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Title: Spain and Portugal

Date of first publication: 1910

Editor: G. (Graeme) Mercer Adam (1830-1912)

Contributor: Wilfred H. Munro (1849-1934)

Editor-in-Chief: Henry Cabot Lodge (1850-1924)

Date first posted: November 3, 2023

Date last updated: November 3, 2023

Faded Page eBook #20231103

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INTRODUCTION

SPAIN PAST AND PRESENT

From the beginning of the Christian era to the close of the fifteenth century the history of the Iberian Peninsula is wonderfully rich in romantic incident. Of this earlier period most readers know little. With the Spain of the “Catholic kings,” of Charles V. and of Philip II. they are familiar, because authors like Irving and Prescott have reproduced the “form and pressure” of those times in their fascinating pages. With just as much fidelity, Dunham has written of the earlier Spain. The object of this preface is to call attention to the points which he has clearly brought out, and also to show the gradual development of the Spanish character and to indicate briefly the possibilities yet in store for the land.

Let us begin with the Roman domination. An incident in connection with the Roman conquest will illustrate the character of the people at that time. Saint Augustine, greatest of all the early Christian writers, deems it worthy of mention in his “City of God.” The legions conquered only when they occupied the land. For six years Numantia defied them. Then the stern edict, “Delenda est Numantia,” was proclaimed, and Scipio, Rome’s greatest general, was sent against the city. His genius brought about its destruction, but its defenders were conquered only by starvation. When the skeletons who patrolled the walls found they could no longer repel the attacking forces they resolved upon self-slaughter. First they set fire to the buildings of the city, and then cast themselves into the flames. Numantia has vanished from the earth. It exists only in legends, yet its story has influenced mightily the character of the Spanish race. That the story is still potent may be judged from the fact that one of the best warships in the Spanish navy to-day bears the name Numantia.

Rome erred in treating its provincials as a conquered people, a mistake which Spain has constantly repeated in her colonies. Yet some of the provincials rose to the highest position in the Roman state. The first to sit upon the imperial throne was the Spanish Trajan, one of the greatest of the “Good Emperors.” The last monarch to reign over an undivided Roman world was the Spanish Theodosius. In him we see many of the traits that still characterize the nation. He was passionate but devout, bigoted yet noble minded. In ungovernable rage he ordered the horrible massacre at Thessalonica, yet with great nobility he, the “Lord of the World,” humbled himself before Saint Ambrose, when that great bishop of Milan showed him the enormity of his crime. The ideas of Theodosius governed many of the Spanish monarchs. He was really the first “Inquisitor,” and his edicts concerning heresy might have been penned by Philip II. In the days of that emperor the people of Spain had become completely Romanized. They fought as soldiers in the legions, were found in the offices of the state, had entered the ranks of the priesthood.

Then the Vandals came down upon the land and conquered it almost without a struggle. The old fighting spirit had well-nigh disappeared. Five causes had brought about this result: First, the unwise system of taxation. The taxes were “farmed” by the publicans, as elsewhere in the empire, and individual independence was thereby crushed out. Second, the Latifundia. These “broad fields” were held by a few owners and were tilled not by a “brave peasantry,” but by serfs. Third, the legions. The men who took service in them never came back. Disease, wounds, and dissipation carried them to their death. Fourth, slavery. The fifth and most potent cause was Christianity. The best men were found within the walls of the churches. Enrolled as servants of the Cross, they did no military service. Happily the domination of the Vandals was short. The regions about Carthage (whence other conquerors of Spain were to come) had for them greater attractions. Their stay is commemorated in the name Andalusia and in not much else. Far otherwise was it with the Visigoths. Ataulphus, the “Moses” who only showed to them the land he was not permitted to dwell in, was their chief. To him not a few Spaniards look as to a model knight-errant. In him they saw displayed the chivalrous characteristics they would fain possess. This “Barbarian’s” treatment of Galla Placidia, his fair Roman bride, was such as would do honor to the highest type of gentleman. No wonder that the proudest boast of the Spanish noble is still the Sangre Azul, the “blue blood,” he inherits from his Visigothic ancestors. Strangely enough the stay of the Visigoths is perpetuated in a word which gives an entirely erroneous impression concerning their character—the word “bigot.” Originally this meant a detested foreigner as well as a heretic. Because they were Arian Christians the Visigoths were heretics to the orthodox people about them; but they were never bigots in our sense of the word. Having once settled in the land they gradually became amalgamated with its inhabitants. Common hatred of the Moor at last welded them together. Two traits especially marked these invaders: their love for fighting and their regard for written laws. When the evil trait was conquered by the good the race perished! Subject to written laws, the warriors surrendered to the priesthood. The Visigothic element was perhaps the most potent in shaping Spanish character.

Then came the Mohammedan conquest. Its story reads like a wild romance. First Tarik appears upon the scene. With five hundred followers “more wicked than himself” this brigand crosses the Strait of Gibraltar and riots in the rich fields along its northern shore. Nothing is farther from his thoughts than the establishment of a new kingdom. Going back to his own, he displays the spoils of his foray, and tells of the rich lands Allah has prepared for their swords. Then the hero of the romance appears with twelve thousand Moors. Tarik lands near the rock which still bears his name. He burns his ships behind him, and in one battle routs Roderic and his more than sixty thousand men. The Visigothic king had apparently every advantage, yet his adversary wiped away all traces of his power. In the tale of the conquest there were some redeeming incidents. Of all the men in Orihuela only its governor and a single page were left. Women masqueraded as sentinels upon the walls. With his one attendant the governor rode into the camp of his foes and arranged honorable terms of capitulation. The Moorish commander was charmed by this resourceful daring. He not only scrupulously carried out the terms agreed upon, but made Theodemir governor of Murcia.

The Spaniards learned much of courtesy from the Moors, and the rule of the Moor was easy. His laws were few, his taxes were light: he tolerated all religions—even the Jews were accorded religious and civil liberty. So, cut off from frequent communication with the rest of Christian Europe, Spanish Christianity developed along lines that were peculiarly its own. The Christians came to be called Mozarabs, and mass was celebrated according to the Gothic ritual (as it is even to this day, four times each year, in one of the chapels of the great Cathedral of Toledo). The conquerors divided with the conquered the use of the churches. They even bought from the Christians the basilicas they sometimes wished to convert into Mohammedan mosques.

Happily the northward march of the Moslem hosts was checked at Tours. The unwisdom of any further attempt at conquest in that direction having been demonstrated, the Moslem leaders set about developing the territory already won. The kingdom of Cordova straightway became the marvel of those ages, as it would have been the wonder of any age. Its rulers governed as did the “Good Emperors” in Rome, and its citizens enjoyed a greater degree of personal liberty than any other people of Europe. The first of the great monarchs who influenced not Christian Spain only, but the Christian world, was Abderahman, a contemporary of Charlemagne, king of the Franks. His realm was not too large for personal government, and he accordingly gave his personal attention to all the business of the state. Toward enemies of his own faith he was fierce and cruel, but was always kind and lenient toward his Christian subjects. In the reign of Hisham, his successor, a man beloved of all men, the Mezquita was begun, and the bridge which still spans the Guadalquivir River was finished. Where now the great cathedral stands had once been a Christian basilica. For many years Moor and Christian used it in common. When a grander structure was determined upon by the conquerors, they bought out their Christian neighbors. He who sees the building to-day can have but a faint idea of its ancient splendor. In the days of the Emperor Charles V. the cathedral chapter pulled down many of its columns that they might erect in the center of the structure a very ordinary Christian church, and yet, disfigured as it is, it is one of the grandest church edifices in the world. Abderahman II. made of Cordova a second Bagdad. When the cities of northern Europe were hardly more than collections of hovels, Cordova was filled with palaces. Through its well-lighted and well-paved streets a man could walk for miles without soiling the hem of his garment, in the years when the people of Paris went staggering in darkness through mud that clasped the ankles. No unarmed man ventured forth alone after nightfall in the streets of Paris or London; but Mohammedan, Christian, and Jew knew no fear in the Moorish capital. When the Christians in the north hardly realized that a bath was ever to be taken, except as a penance, the aqueducts of Cordova were each day bringing rivers within the city walls, and its people were reveling in the delights that come from cleanliness. Later, when Christian conquered Moor, all this was changed. The streets no longer ran with water, aqueducts fell into disuse, fountains ceased to play, the orange trees and flowering shrubs that had made the courtyards beautiful died from lack of moisture; the highways were no longer cared for. Save the great mosque and the bridge no traces of its ancient glories remain. The last of its fountains was destroyed by Philip II., once the husband of Mary Tudor, in the days when Mary’s sister, Elizabeth, sat upon the throne of England.

Abderahman III., who died in 961, was one of the great men of history. His influence was potent for years after his death. He ruled as did Louis XI. of France, choosing men of humble birth as his agents. As these men owed their advancement entirely to him, he found in them most efficient servants. Like Louis, he also formed a bodyguard of foreigners, a guard even more devoted to him than Louis’ Scotchmen were to the French king. Deeds of cruelty are charged against him by the Christian historians, but it must be acknowledged that he had cruel foes to deal with, and that we know him almost entirely through his foes. The Christian barbarians against whom he fought in Leon nailed the head of one of his defeated generals upon a wall and beside it they nailed the head of a pig. Such antagonists would not be likely to speak well of a man. The fact stands that he influenced mightily the character of his adversaries and that under him Cordova became one of the great centers of civilization. Historians are fond of comparing him with Charlemagne, but he was a greater man than Karl. The northern king ruled over a race of barbarians. He was the only prince in a long line who really showed indications of ideas akin to those of modern times. The southern monarch was only one of a line of enlightened rulers. In the realms of the man who on Christmas Day, 800, was crowned emperor at Rome there was no edifice which could for a moment be compared with Ez Zahra, the wonderful palace on the banks of the Guadalquivir. The famous “School of the Palace” at Aachen was far inferior to the Moslem schools at Cordova. Hakam II., Abderahman’s successor, was like the most famous of the Medici in his zeal for learning. Not only did he possess the largest library of his day, but he actually read his books. His passion was not that of the book collector. He loved learning for its own sake, and was accustomed to carry a number of his favorite volumes with him upon all his campaigns.

Of Almanzor, his successor, marvelous stories are told. His resources were endless, no difficulties seemed to trouble him. One instance will suffice for illustration. Once upon a foray in an unfamiliar country he found his troops enclosed within a defile which had but one possible outlet. This was already blocked by the enemy. Provisions to support his troops were lacking. Apparently his fate was sealed, and his foes were correspondingly elated. To their amazement they saw his troops begin the cultivation of the fields about them. And to the emissaries who came to demand his surrender Almanzor calmly made answer that as the season was so far advanced, and as his own land was so distant, he had determined to winter where he was. No wonder that his antagonists eagerly furnished him all necessary supplies in order to rid themselves of the pressure of such an incomprehensible foe. The Christian scribe later disposed of him in concise language. “In 1002 died Almanzor, and was buried in hell.”

The long contest with men like these, who were so much superior in many ways to the rulers of Christian Europe, influenced mightily the character of the Spanish race. We see that most perfectly idealized in the “Cid.” The story of this famous champion, with his steed Babieca and his sword Tizona, has been familiar for centuries to the youth in all lands. The real Cid was a freebooter. Ruthless and cruel, he plundered Moor and Christian alike, as did all the robbers of those days. No man was less worthy to be canonized as a national hero, yet the people endowed him with all the virtues they wished their champion to exemplify, and set their “perfect one” upon a pedestal that all mankind might bow in admiration before him. This was because the real Cid had in his day asserted the rights of the individual against both lord and king. “The person of the Cid is a paean of triumphant democracy.” The legends told respecting the champion illustrate the ideas of the time. From the chest still nailed against the wall of one of the chapels of the Burgos Cathedral are reflected the sentiments entertained toward the Jews. This chest, the Cid told some Jewish money-lenders, was filled with jewels. He proposed to leave it with them as security for money borrowed. It was filled with sand. To plunder the Hebrew was meritorious in the sight of all men.

The crusade against the Moors served to increase the zeal of an intensely religious people, a people always remarkable for orthodoxy. No heresies have ever flourished among them. Even in the days when Europe was almost overwhelmed by the movement with which Luther’s name is connected, hardly a ripple of excitement was felt in Spain. The national reputation for orthodoxy goes back to the first council of the Christian church. In the Council of Nicaea, 325 A.D., Hosius, Bishop of Cordova, was the leading western ecclesiastic. To him the Emperor Constantine especially looked for instruction and guidance. The Eastern church was torn by schisms and the supremacy of the Bishop of Rome was not universally recognized. Until that supremacy was established men turned to Cordova, to Sevilla, and to Toledo for authoritative interpretation of the Christian doctrines. It was not entirely an accident, therefore, that the clause “filioque” was first inserted in the Nicene creed at the Council of Toledo, 589. Later the mantle of Hosius seemed to have fallen upon Isidor of Sevilla, one of the most learned men of the ages. He codified the laws which had been set forth by the Christian church. To this code was given the name of the Isidorian Decretals. Years after his death the sanction of his great name was thrown around that other collection which all men now call the Pseudo-Isidorian Decretals. The national reputation for orthodoxy was not injured by the Moorish domination. If anything, it was intensified. It was long before the old Mozarabic ritual was superseded by that of Rome. The contest for supremacy that was waged between them is one of the most interesting episodes in history.

First two mailed champions fought in the lists, and victory came to the Spanish champion; matters then rested for a time, but the Roman advocates were only waiting. For the second contest two bulls were brought into the arena and the Spanish bull defeated the Roman. Again matters rested. An ordeal by fire was next arranged. Copies of the two missals were cast into raging flames. The Roman massbook was at once consumed, the Mozarabic was plucked out almost uninjured. But the Spanish king was not as persistent as his clergy. He was tired of a contest which was apparently to be endless. He threw the Mozarabic missal again into the flames, and it was at last consumed. Such was the popular test,—picturesque in accordance with the naïveté of the times. Of course when the ecclesiastical authorities subsequently passed judgment upon the subject it was by decrees and pronouncements and not by bull-fights or fiery ordeals.

The religious fervor of the nation found expression in the military orders. These orders were not as famous as those that fought in the Holy Land, because the eyes of all Europe were not turned upon them. Yet the knights of the Order of Santiago, and their compeers, were quite as devoted to the service of the Cross as were the Templars and the Knights of the Hospital of St. John. The shrine of Santiago de Compostella was one of the great pilgrim resorts of the world. Santiago himself, mounted upon a snow-white steed, men often thought they saw leading the Spaniards to victory, when, without his aid, defeat seemed inevitable. It was to be expected then that after the military orders had done their work, other organizations, like those that observed the “rule” of Dominic, should take their place. The “Black Friars” did not intensify, they only reflected, the religious spirit. The inquisition they directed existed elsewhere; it flourished only in Spain. And yet toleration was the rule until the Moor was cast out. The inquisition established in the thirteenth century was designed “to bring all mankind into one fold under one shepherd.” It had no real existence until the days of Ferdinand and Isabella. Thomas de Torquemada was the first great inquisitor. It was intense religious zeal that determined the policy of Isabella. “For the love of Christ and of his Maid Mother” she consented to the deeds which marked her reign in Castile. The policy of her successors was an inherited policy. Philip II. thought it was better not to rule at all than to rule over a nation of heretics.

But religious zeal was not the most noticeable feature in the history of mediæval Spain; constitutional government was there first developed. In 1162 the General Assembly of Aragon and Catalonia met to deliberate concerning measures of public utility. It was not until 1265 that the famous parliament of Simon de Montfort was summoned in England. Free municipal institutions were first developed in Barcelona. Her merchants and tradesmen exercised sovereign rights. In that city also the first bank was established. The “Consulado del Mar” formed the basis of the laws that govern shipping. In Aragon the individual enjoyed such rights as nowhere else were tolerated. One member of the Cortes might veto a bill. The famous oath its king was made to swear asserted in the strongest terms the sovereignty of the people. One need not go far to discover the reason. The pride of the nobles was immense, but their castles could be taken. On the other hand, walled cities were virtually impregnable. Upon them the sovereigns were forced to rely, because with their aid only could they hold the robber-barons in check. So municipal privileges grew. Combinations between citizens led to combinations between cities. The “Hermandad” which was formed in 1295 was an immense power for order and for security of life and property. It had no counterpart in Europe. Isabella wisely adopted its name and methods, when in 1495 she reduced her nobles to submission and gave security to her people by means of the arrows and archers of the Santa Hermandad.

The conquest of Granada took away from the Spanish nobility their stimulus to action. Their energies were dormant until the discoveries in the west roused them once more. It was a new crusade upon which Columbus and Cortéz felt that they had embarked. Their zeal was quite as fervent as was that of the men who in the twelfth century gathered around the standard of the Norman kings of Jerusalem. The intellectual development of the nation kept pace with the discoveries. The Philippian age corresponds with the Elizabethan age in England. The marvels of the New World stimulated the imagination in all lands. But while Elizabeth was wise enough always to yield to the plainly expressed wishes of the English people, Philip regarded the desires of the people of Spain as entirely unworthy his consideration. The Spanish Estates lost power almost in proportion as the Commons of England increased in importance. There was no longer a force working in the Spanish Peninsula similar to that in England which the development of commerce afterwards indicated. The personal government of Philip II. had crushed the last remnants of Spanish liberty.

Modern Spain is a surprise to the traveler who visits it for the first time. He has very likely been told that there is no energy among its people, that it is a land of beggars, that it is governed by the priesthood through the medium of the confessional, that the Octroi throttles commerce, and that its politicians are even more corrupt and unpatriotic than men of the same breed elsewhere. Some of his ideas are well grounded. “Mañana” (to-morrow) is the watchword of many of its people, and the beggar is almost everywhere a horrible pest. The mendicity and mendacity of the lower classes still curse the land, but there is another and very different Spain above these classes. This other Spain is full of energy and of hope, anxious to develop the immense natural resources of the land. You see its thoughts reflected in the newspapers. You find its enterprise manifested in the new buildings that are everywhere going up. The Spain which knew not gas is everywhere lighted by electricity. Cities like Bilbao and Barcelona are hives of industry, growing in a way that would be deemed phenomenal in any country. Soon these overgrown hives must swarm and new manufacturing centers be developed elsewhere. Once all the sugar used in the Peninsula came from abroad; now the beet sugar factories are planning for an export trade. The loss of the colonies which resulted from the Spanish-American War was a terrible blow to the country, but thinking men everywhere now freely admit that it was really a blessing in disguise. The life blood of the land is no longer drained away in the West Indies or the Philippines. The young men are kept at home and are not sent abroad to die as soldiers under tropical suns. Frugal, temperate, and industrious, they are building up a stronger and more powerful Spain than has been known since the earliest years of Philip II. The burdens of taxation are gradually being reduced. The politician is giving place to the statesman. For generations to come there may not be a stable republic in the Peninsula, but the land where modern republican institutions had their earliest development will be ruled by a monarch whose power will be limited by constitutional provisions, and Spain will slowly but surely press forward once more to a conspicuous place among the nations of Europe.

Chapter I

EARLY HISTORY

When, and by whom, the Peninsula of Spain was peopled it would be vain to inquire. The earliest inhabitants whom history makes known to us were the Iberians, a nation whose origin was probably derived from the Asiatic country of that name. The establishment of Iberian colonies along the coasts of the Mediterranean, from Asia Minor to Catalonia, seems to indicate the gradual progress westward of those enterprising adventurers. Beyond doubt they were settled in the country at a period lost in the depths of antiquity; but that they were the first settlers may be reasonably doubted. Its position, climate, and fertility would cause it to be inhabited before most others in Europe.

At a time so remote also that we cannot ascend to it, conjectured by Ocampo as about one thousand years before Christ, the Iberians were disturbed in their possessions by the Celts, a race whose origin is wrapped in impenetrable darkness, and whose migrations have been, and still are, the subject of much ingenious but fruitless disputation. Dissimilar, we are told, in language and manners, the numerous tribes into which the two peoples were split were long hostile to each other. They contended for the possession, or perhaps the supremacy, of the country, until, finding by experience that their strife was fruitless, they consented, perhaps, to amalgamate,—but certainly to share the country between them; and the united people were thenceforth called Celtiberians.

Did the Celts enter the Peninsula by the Pyrenees or cross over from Africa? While the French writers maintain the former hypothesis, Masdeu and other natives as obstinately assert the latter. In the absence of all positive testimony, the fact cannot be ascertained by either. It would, indeed, be more reasonable to suppose that the stream of Celtic migration flowed over Europe from the Bosphorus to the British Isles, or even along the northern shores of the Mediterranean: we do not hear that they ever formed a single settlement on the southern. But who were the Celts? Were they really a distinct race; or was the term employed by the Greeks merely as a generic one, to designate the mountain inhabitants of western Europe as the Scythians of the northern? The latter supposition would be as plausible as the former.

The condition of the Iberians and Celts, prior to the irruptions of other nations, is described with much complacency by most Spanish writers. According to them, governments were instituted; cities admirably policed; the arts and philosophy taught to flourish, when even Greece, the parent of European civilization, was involved in barbarism. Such dreams may amuse a patriotic fancy; but the severe hand of Truth would trace a very different picture: it would show us a country where, from the multitude of fierce and independent tribes, contests must have been frequent and inevitable; and where, from their savage habits, there could be no hope of security, much less of enjoyment.

The character, indeed, of these tribes is represented as favorable to anything but social tranquillity. Wherever there are mountains there will be robbers, until the arts of life are known and practiced and lawless violence is repressed by the strong arm of authority. The mountaineers of the Peninsula, like those of Scotland and Wales, finding that the districts which they inhabited were too barren for their support, descended into the fertile plains and carried away to their retreats both the cattle and the produce of the soil. Such aggressions could not be committed without contention between the plunderers and the plundered. Hence, necessity taught both the use of arms, in which habit rendered them expert. Hence, too, as all history shows us, the inhabitants of the mountains and of the plains adjoining have ever been distinguished by a warlike and ferocious disposition. But, in the mixed condition of man, there are few evils unproductive of partial good. The courage which in a rude state of society stimulated to lawless strife, and fostered martial habits, would, in one more advanced, when the blessings of freedom were known and prized, resist the progress of foreign aggression. Accordingly, we find that the mountains have ever been the strongholds of independence. Those of Wales, Scotland, Switzerland, Calabria, the Asturias, and Greece are renowned as the cradles of national liberty.

The arms of these people were simple, but formidable. Two lances, about three feet in length, a short sword, a pole, hooked at the end to seize the reins of horses, and a sling were the most usual weapons of the combatants on foot. The horsemen were distinguished by sabers, sometimes by hatchets or ponderous mallets, but generally by lances about six feet long. Both were defended by bucklers; and, in addition, the latter cased their thighs in something on which the sword made no impression. When advancing to battle each horseman had usually a foot soldier mounted en croupe, who alighted the moment the contest began and closed with the enemy.

Bull-fights appear to have been their favorite amusement from the earliest times. That this custom was not introduced by the Romans is evident from its representation on ancient medals, and on a monument discovered at Clunia about a century ago,—both unquestionably anterior to the domination of that people.

Their food was very frugal; a few dried acorns or chestnuts, with mead or cider, satisfied the moderate wants of several tribes; and though the inhabitants of the maritime districts were supplied with wine, and the richer portion throughout the country were no strangers to animal food, they observed, even in that barbarous era, a sobriety which contrasted strongly with the intemperance of more northern nations.^[1] On these occasions music was introduced, and sometimes dancing, but from this latter exercise, and indeed from the feasts altogether, the women were excluded.

Their dress was no less simple. A garment of linen or leather, girt round the waist, with a cap for the head, constituted the soldier’s covering: a woolen tunic of a black color, and descending to the feet, sometimes furnished with a hood like some of our modern cloaks for women, was the habit of peace. The females, indeed, were no strangers to fantastic ornaments.

Justice was administered with severity. Capital delinquents were stoned to death, or hurled from the top of a precipice. Parricides were conducted beyond the bounds of the kingdom and there slain, their very bones being considered too polluted to repose in their native soil.

Agriculture was abandoned to the women, as an employment beneath the dignity of a warrior. The fair sex guided the oxen, held the plow, ground the corn, besides attending to their domestic concerns. On them, indeed, the whole drudgery of life rested then, as it does now, in that country. When surprised by the pains of labor they retired into a corner, no matter where; wrapped the infant stranger in a warm covering; and returned to their occupation as if nothing extraordinary had happened. This would appear incredible, notwithstanding the experience of savage life, even in these days, were the facts not attested by authority too strong to be shaken.

There is reason to believe that the Celtiberian nations were not unacquainted with commerce, even before the invasion of the Phoenicians. But their trade was confined to the coasts, and consisted in the exchange of superfluities for the productions of the Mediterranean isles, especially for wine. Certain it is that they knew not the value of the precious metals until the avaricious Syrians compelled them to labor in the mines. From this period the riches of Spain were almost proverbial. Coins and medals of ancient dates—some representing the religious rites or ordinary pursuits of the people, others covered with Phoenician characters—are frequently dug up, and made to throw light on this darkest period in their history. But iron was the mineral for which the country was most renowned. When turned into steel, the excellence of the swords and spears, and the perfection of the workmanship, made foreigners anxious to obtain them.^[2]

The introduction of idolatry into Spain and Portugal was owing, it is said, to the Phoenicians: tradition affirms that before their arrival traces of the patriarchal, if not the Mosaic, dispensation were not wholly destroyed. But the Celts had previously settled in the country, and doubtless introduced a religious system distinct from that of the Syrians, and in many respects similar to that of the Gauls and Britons. If the knowledge and worship of one God ever existed there antecedently to the preaching of Christianity, it was probably confined to the Iberians, or to the inhabitants located in Spain before that enterprising people forsook their native mountains and forests.

The deities worshiped by the Tyrian colonies, and by them made known to the native tribes, were doubtless many in number; yet few remain either in ancient writers or on contemporary medals. Hercules, represented sometimes as a pilot, sometimes as grasping a bow, was an emblem of the sun. The moon was represented under the figure of a head with two horns, evidently intended for that of a bull or a cow. The former was called Baal, the latter Astarte or Astaroth. Probably they are the same as the Isis and Osiris of the Egyptians, who always used the figure of a cow to represent the moon.^[3] Hence the origin of several monuments distributed throughout the Peninsula.

As before observed, the Peninsula, from the earliest known period, was split into a multitude of tribes, originally divided from two great races or nations. The Celts reigned in the north and west; the Iberians in the south and east. A mixture of the two, the Celtiberians, from whom the whole population was named, possessed a great portion of the interior. Under these three general heads we shall class all the tribes of the country which made any figure in ancient history. Those of which the names only remain, and there are many of them, are omitted, since they would form but a barren and useless nomenclature.

It must, however, be premised that though the classification adopted is sufficiently accurate for the present purpose, it is not proposed as strictly so. The expeditions of the Phoenicians, the Greeks, and the Carthaginians, and still more the migration of native tribes, doubtless gave rise to various modifications of society on the coasts, to the amalgamation of some states and the formation of others.

The Celts consisted of five powerful tribes. The Asturians (Astures) inhabited a territory more extensive than the modern principality of the name, for it comprehended also a considerable portion of Leon and Old Castile. By the Romans it was generally confounded with the country of the Callaici or Gallicians. The ultramontane Asturians, like their descendants at this day, dwelt in the gorges formed by the numerous ramifications of the mountains which traverse their country. These branches, called by the Spaniards sierras, sometimes cerros, are so near to one another that many of the ravines between them are scarcely broad enough to serve as beds to the torrents which descend from the snow-clad mountains. The scene is often singularly romantic. In many of the valleys, and on the declivities of the less abrupt mountains, vegetation is flourishing; fruit-trees even are common, and corn is abundant.

The natural position of this country, while it averted from the inhabitants the curse of subjugation by Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Romans, Goths, or Moors, preserved them from the contagion of the social vices and cherished within them an ungovernable spirit of independence. In valor they were surpassed by no people of the Peninsula. Their ordinary clothing was the skin of the chamois. Game, with which the region has always abounded, furnished them with a never-failing diet, and enabled them to undergo the severest labors. At home they cultivated the ground; when occupied in war this duty necessarily devolved on the women. The Romans succeeded in penetrating into such districts as abounded in gold; but the country was only partially known to them, much less subdued.

The Cantabres inhabited a territory comprising Biscay Proper, Guipuzcoa, and Alava. It abounded in the precious metals, and above all in iron. The whole country, in fact, was one continuous series of mines. It was the arsenal of Spain, and even of foreign nations: it was the forge of Vulcan. Its richness in these valuable minerals made it an object of cupidity to the Romans: but the hands which could manufacture weapons could also use them; and the independence of this hardy race was preserved. Passionately fond of their mountains, barren as those mountains are, and no less attached to war—insensible to hunger, heat, and cold,—they were the terror of Rome.

The Vascones inhabited the country which extended over all the present kingdom of Navarre and a great part of Aragon: it was bounded by Cantabria, the Pyrenees, the territory of the Ilergetes, and the Ebro. The warlike spirit of the Basques, their predecessors, was well known to the Carthaginians and Romans. Hannibal enrolled many of them among his troops previous to his invasion of Italy; and many also served to prop for a time the declining fortunes of the republic in Africa. The barrenness of their native soil and their addiction to a military life rendered them willing to fight under the banners of any general who chose to employ them.

What makes this people the most distinguished of any in the Peninsula is their famous language, which, under the name of Basque, has long exercised the ingenuity of the learned. Whether it be the ancient language of Spain, or whether it be identical with the Celtic, are problems of which we need not expect the solution. It seems, however, probable, from the number of Basque words throughout the topography of the Peninsula, that those writers may be right who contend for its universality in Spain at some remote period of antiquity. But, whether Celtic or Iberian, the construction of the Basque is Asiatic, and it is undoubtedly one of the most ancient idioms in the world.

Another tribe, the Callaici, or Gallicians, anciently occupied the whole of modern Gallicia, and a portion of the kingdom of Leon: they possessed the seacoast between the Asturias and Lusitania, and were separated by high mountains from the rest of the Peninsula.

Like all the tribes of Spain, especially the northern, these people were distinguished for their pugnacious disposition. As if nature had not sufficiently defended the country, numerous fortresses were spread over it,—probably intended to guard against the incursions of the pirates, whose depredations were frequent and terrible. From the most ancient times, as at present, their maritime superiority over all other nations of Spain was beyond dispute. The abundance of fish on their coasts, and the fertility of their soil, attracted the Phoenician and Carthaginian merchants to their ports, and rendered their condition uncommonly flourishing. Besides, they had numerous mines of the precious metals, and of tin. Gold, we are told, was so common that the laborers in the fields frequently dug up ingots several ounces in weight. This is exaggerated; but there can be no doubt that the mines were highly productive. The natives worshiped chiefly the sun and moon; but that they had many other gods in common with the neighboring tribes is incontestable from the inscriptions still extant. Fifteen neighboring tribes owned their supremacy.

A fifth tribe called Lusitanians inhabited the western portion of the Peninsula, which was more extensive than the present kingdom of Portugal. It comprised, in addition, the two Estremaduras, and a portion of Castile and Leon. The tribes scattered over this extensive district were many, but all apparently derived from one common stock, the Celts. The most formidable of these were the Catones, the Turdetani, the Turduli, who were probably a tribe of the latter, and the Lusitani, from whom the country derived its name.

To the south and east of these reigned the second great race, the Iberian nation. Their territory was so extensive that from them the whole of Spain was sometimes called Iberia. These also were divided into numerous tribes.

Proceeding from the Straits of Gibraltar along the coast of Baetica, and passing the Bastuli, we come to the Bastitani. Their country comprised most of Murcia, and was intersected by the Tadder, now the Segura. It contained fifteen towns, exclusive of the ports.

The Contestani extended from Carthagena to the River Xucar, formerly Sucro, and westward to the mountain range of Idubeda: their territory, consequently, embraced a portion of Murcia and Valencia. It had several ports, of which the most famous was Carthagena, built by the Carthaginians.

To the north of this tribe were the Edetani. Their maritime coast was but small, extending only from the Sucro to the Uduba; but to the north and west their territory stretched much more considerably. It comprised a portion of Valencia and Aragon. Its ports were numerous, the principal of which were the Salduba, now Saragossa on the Ebro; Valencia, and Saguntum, now Murviedro.

The Ilercavones lay on the coast from the Uduba beyond the Iberus or Ebro, comprising a considerable portion of Valencia. From the Greeks, who at an early period entered into communication with them, they learned the advantages of commerce.

The Cosetani were also a maritime tribe, on the seacoast of Catalonia, as far as the River Llobregat: their capital was Tarrago, now Tarragona.

The Laletani lay nearer to the Pyrenees, and extended to the Ter: their capital was the renowned city of Barcino, now Barcelona, built by the Carthaginians.

Between this people and the Pyrenees lay the Indigetes. On this coast the Greeks founded two flourishing colonies, Emporium, now Ampurias; and Rhodia, now Rosas.

To the west of these and of the Laletani were the Ilergetes, whose capital was Ilerda, now Lerida, and who were the most valiant of the tribes inhabiting Catalonia and Aragon. The Ausetani and the Laletani either formed a portion of the same tribe or were dependent on them.

The Celtiberians were a third and mixed race which seems at different periods to have possessed very different dimensions. In the most ancient times, on the junction of the Iberians and Celts, it must have comprised the greater part, if not the whole, of Spain. But when Celtiberia was restricted to the country inhabited by a central people, as at the time of the Roman invasion, it comprised the Two Castiles; subsequently, when the various tribes combined under Viriatus to shake off the Roman domination, it was still further circumscribed. But even in this period it was very powerful. It was bounded on the east by Aragon and Valencia, on the south by the Bastitani, and on the north by the tribes bordering on Cantabria. The western boundary is not so clear: their country must have stretched to the very frontiers of Lusitania, or at least to those of Estremadura, which indeed formed a part of Lusitania.

As the Celtiberians were an amalgamation of the Iberians and Celts, their character and habits may be naturally expected to partake of both. This was, indeed, the case, but not in an equal degree: the characteristic features of the Celts were more predominant.

The Celtiberians were a brave nation. They did not wait for the enemy, but sought him out; they did not fight from behind entrenchments, but openly and manfully. Strong, vigorous, hardy, and full of courage, they are represented by their countryman, the celebrated epigrammatist, Martial, as a perfect contrast to the voluptuous Roman. They had not, however, the unbending resolution, persevering energy, and native grandeur of the Cantabrians.

The Phoenicians were the first who, attracted by the never-failing instinct of gain, directed their course to a country which promised the highest advantages to their commerce. The precise period of their entering into relations with the inhabitants is unknown; doubtless it was before the foundation of either Carthage or Rome. For some time their settlements, of which Gades, now Cadiz, was the first and most powerful, were confined to the coasts of Baetica, whence they supplied the natives with the traffic of Asia Minor and the shores of the Mediterranean, in exchange for the more valuable productions of the Peninsula, such as gold, silver, and iron. Cadiz, Malaga, Cordova, and other places of minor note were monuments of their successful enterprise and proofs of their intention to fix their permanent abode in a country on which nature had lavished her choicest gifts. In time they penetrated into the interior, and arrived in the heart of the mountainous districts of the north, probably to superintend the operations of the mines which they had prevailed on the natives to open. Almost everywhere have they left traces of their existence, not only in medallic and lapidary inscriptions, but in the religion, language, and manners of the people.

It is possible, however, that the residence of this people in Spain may have been confounded with that of the Carthaginians. The similarity in language, manners, and superstitions might naturally have diminished the distinction between the two nations, and in time destroyed it. About eight or nine hundred years before Christ the Rhodians arrived on the coast of Catalonia, and founded a town, which they called Rhodia (Rosas) from the name of their island. They were followed by the Phocians, to whose maritime enterprise the Father of History bears testimony. These also founded a town on the same coast; and as their resources increased so did their ambition: they dispossessed their countrymen of Rosas, and extended their settlements along the shores of Catalonia and Valencia.

The African republic had long watched with jealousy the progressive prosperity of the Tyrians, and waited for an opportunity of supplanting them. In 840 B.C. that opportunity came. A dispute arose: both parties recurred to arms; and, after a short struggle, the lords of the deep were forced to give way before their martial enemies. Several of the Phoenician settlements fell into the hands of the victors, who appeared bent on rescuing their soil from these all-grasping strangers. Seeing Cadiz itself threatened, the latter implored the assistance of the Carthaginians, who had already a settlement on the little island of Iviza. The invitation was eagerly accepted; perhaps, as has been asserted, the Carthaginians had fomented the misunderstanding, and urged it to an open quarrel. However this be, they landed a considerable force on the Baetican coast; and, after a few struggles, the details of which we should vainly attempt to ascertain, they triumphed over both Phoenicians and natives, and seized on the prize they had so long coveted. Thenceforth Cadiz served as a stronghold whither they could retreat whenever danger pressed too heavily, and as an arsenal where fetters might be manufactured for the rest of Spain.

Few new conquests were made until 235 B.C. under the general, Hamilcar, father of the great Hannibal. He had need of all his valor—and few captains ever had more—to quell the perpetual incursions of tribes glorying in their independence, and strangers to fear. For this purpose he built several fortresses (the important city of Barcelona is said to have been among the number), in which he distributed a portion of his troops to overawe the surrounding country; while, with another portion, he moved from place to place, as occasion required his presence. He was, however, checked in the career of his conquests by the Edetani and Saguntines, who openly revolted, and made vigorous preparations for their defense. He fell upon them; but neither the number of his forces nor his own bravery could succeed against men to whom the hope of freedom and of revenge gave irresistible might. Two-thirds of his army perished, and himself among the number. His son Hannibal being too young to succeed him, the administration of the Carthaginian provinces and the conduct of the war devolved, by a decree of the senate, on his son-in-law, Hasdrubal.

The city of Carthagena, which Hasdrubal founded on the modern gulf of that name, and which he furnished with an admirable harbor, was the most glorious monument of his administration. The success of his arms, the nature of his designs, which evidently tended to some great end, his talents, his ambition, roused the fears both of the Greek colonies on the coast of Catalonia and Valencia, and of several independent nations in the interior. Both viewed with alarm his rapid strides towards the universal subjection of the Peninsula, and as they were too feeble to oppose him with any force they could muster (some of the most powerful native tribes were his tributaries or allies), they resolved to call in a third power, which had long regarded with jealousy the growing prosperity of Carthage, and envied that republic the possession of a country so admirably adapted to the purposes of commerce and war, and so rich in resources as to appear inexhaustible.

Rome eagerly embraced the cause of the discontented states—probably, indeed, she had secretly fomented that discontent. In the character of ally and protector of the confederate states she sent a deputation to Carthage, which obtained from the senate the important concessions that the Carthaginians should not push their conquests beyond the Ebro, and that they should not disturb the Saguntines and the other Greek colonies.

Though Hasdrubal was made acquainted with these concessions, and even promised to observe them, nothing was further from his purpose than to relinquish the gigantic designs he had formed. He silently collected troops, and resolved to make a final effort for the entire subjugation of Spain before Rome could succor the confederates. In three years, his formidable preparations being completed, he threw off the mask, and marched against Saguntum. On his way, however, he was assassinated by the slave of a man whose master, a native prince, he had put to death. The attachment of this slave to his master’s memory could be equalled only by the unshaken firmness with which he supported the incredible torments inflicted on him by the fierce Hannibal.

This famous Carthaginian was in his twenty-fifth year when he succeeded to the post of his deceased brother. He was more to be dreaded than all his predecessors united. To military talents and personal valor perhaps unexampled in any age, he joined astonishing coolness of judgment and inflexibility of purpose. While Hasdrubal was actuated only by selfish considerations, Hannibal had as the great principle of his actions, revenge—revenge against the bitter enemy of his country, and still more against the destroyers of his kindred. There is a moral grandeur in this all-engrossing purpose which, notwithstanding its fell malignity, unaccountably rivets our admiration.

The young hero lost no time in extending his conquests, and amassing resources for the grand approaching struggle with the Romans. Having subdued some warlike tribes of modern Castile and Leon, and brought into full activity some rich silver mines at the foot of the Pyrenees, he marched at the head of 150,000 men against Saguntum, which he invested in due form. Unfortunately, however, for the Saguntines, they had to do with a man whom disappointment only nerved to greater exertions. To place his soldiers on a level with those who fought from the ramparts he invented moving towers on which the Carthaginians were wheeled to the walls, and from which they were able to oppose the citizens on equal terms. The latter, at length, retired into the midst of the city to await the final struggle with the Africans. But it appeared dishonorable to themselves thus to flee from the enemy: their destruction they knew to be inevitable, but they resolved that the last act of this fearful tragedy should be a suitable consummation of the preceding horrors. Having amassed all their valuable effects, and everything combustible, into one pile, and placed their wives and children around it, they issued from the gates, and plunged into the midst of the surprised enemy. The slaughter was prodigious on both sides; but, in the end, numbers and strength prevailed against weakness and desperation: the Saguntines were cut off almost to a man.

Thus perished one of the most flourishing cities of Spain, and one which will be forever memorable in the annals of mankind. Its destruction hastened, if it did not occasion, the second Punic war.

Rome, whose neglect in succoring her ally drew on her the execration of the Peninsula, now equipped her powerful armaments for a grand struggle on the soil of Spain with her ambitious and vindictive rival. Hannibal mustered his forces for the invasion of Italy. While the Carthaginian hero is spreading destruction around him, and the towers of “the eternal city” themselves are tottering, our task must be to cast a hurried glance at the transactions which, after the invasion of Scipio, happened in the country he had left behind.

Chapter II

THE ROMANS IN SPAIN, 218 B.C.-409 A.D.

No sooner was the fall of Saguntum known at Rome than ambassadors were again dispatched to the Peninsula, to form a confederation of the tribes adverse to the Punic yoke. They were coolly received. Meanwhile, Cnaeus Scipio, the lieutenant of his brother Publius the consul, landed at Ampurias in Catalonia, with 10,000 infantry and 700 horse (at the same time Hannibal was marching through Gaul on the way to Italy, to destroy the very name of Rome, and to free the world), an armament evidently inadequate to the importance of the expedition. His first object was to gain over the Iberian tribes north of the Ebro. This he at length effected by his personal influence, rather than by that of his country. He was soon strong enough to contend with Hanno, the Carthaginian general, who commanded in Catalonia, and whom he defeated with heavy loss.

The campaigns that followed corresponded with this auspicious beginning. A naval victory gained over the Carthaginian fleet at the mouth of the Ebro placed at Scipio’s command the whole maritime coast from Murcia to the Pyrenees. The plunder of the Punic colonies incited his soldiers to more vigorous operations; the adhesion to his cause of the Celtiberian tribes, and the arrival of his brother Publius Cornelius Scipio, his superior in command, with a considerable reinforcement, were still more encouraging. They defeated Hasdrubal, the Punic general in chief, in three decisive engagements, and forced him to take refuge within the walls of Carthagena. So rapid and so complete were the triumphs of the Romans that Spain was now regarded as a province of the republic. And well it might; for of the numerous fortresses on the coast, not more than three or four now held for the Carthaginians.

But Hasdrubal had many great qualities in common with Hannibal, his heroic brother. Not the least of these were the fortitude with which he bore reverses, and the activity with which he sought to repair them. Having procured two reinforcements from Carthage, 218-215 B.C. and strengthened himself, in imitation of the two Scipios, with alliances in the interior of the country and from Africa, he resolved to make a vigorous stand for the preservation of the Punic possessions still remaining, or at least to fight his way to the Pyrenees, and proceed as he had been ordered by his government, to join his brother in Italy, the sun of whose fortunes was now beginning to decline. This junction the Scipios dreaded. To oppose his passage, as well as to strike a final blow for the undisputed supremacy of the Peninsula, they collected a formidable host, chiefly by admitting into their ranks, on regular pay, the warlike nations of Celtiberia. Elated with this advantage, they divided their forces, and advanced, confident of success, against Hasdrubal and Mago. Cnaeus was opposed to the former, and Publius to the latter.

But the tide of events changed for a season. While Cnaeus retreated before the now triumphant Hasdrubal, Publius was routed and slain by Mago, and his army almost exterminated. The victor united with Hasdrubal, and the two went in pursuit of the fugitive Roman. They found him entrenched on a little hill. At the first shock his troops were dispersed: many were slain; but a number fled, with their general, to a neighboring tower, which was soon stormed, and all within put to the sword. The rest effected their escape to the camp of their countrymen, near the Ebro.

The despair of the Roman soldiers at the fall of their chiefs inclined them to submit with indifference to the will of the victors. But Lucius Martius, one of their generals, exhorted them to revenge the death of the Scipios, or meet their own. Already were the Carthaginians under Hasdrubal (the son, not of Hamilcar, but of Gisgo) near their fortified camp, when they were roused from their despondency, and drawn up to receive the enemy. Their determined attitude was not lost on the latter; who, as if seized by a panic, fell back to the Punic entrenchments. In the silence of night Martius led them to the camp of Hasdrubal, and penetrated into the tents without opposition. With a loud shout they commenced the work of destruction. Some killed the enemy, but half-awakened; some set fire to the tents; others guarded the gates, to intercept the flight of the alarmed fugitives. When this dreadful massacre was over the Romans proceeded to the camp of Mago, to renew the same bloody scene. They forced the gates, and penetrated into the tents; but dawn appeared, and though they killed many, more escaped.

Grateful to the man who had preserved them from utter destruction, the Roman army proclaimed Martius their captain;210-206 B.C. but an authority not conferred by the senate gave umbrage to that jealous body, and Martius was superseded. The incapacity, however, of the new general was so glaring that he was soon compelled to resign his authority into the hands of the famous Publius Cornelius Scipio, afterwards surnamed Africanus, son of the hero of that name whose fate has just been noticed.

When Scipio landed in Spain at the head of a considerable armament, he found that the renown of his father and uncle smoothed the rugged path which lay before him. Like them, he appeared among the people more as a friend than as a master. The latter renewed their alliances with the republic, and promised their support.

The Carthaginians watched his progress with much anxiety; and prepared to sustain the storm, burst wherever it might. When the campaign opened, Hasdrubal, the brother of Hannibal, lay at Saguntum, which had been rebuilt by the Scipios; the other Hasdrubal was in Baetica, opposite to Cadiz; and Mago was between New Castile and Andalusia. To divide their forces at such a time, and when called to oppose such a man, was a fatal error. Without seeking out any one of the three, as his predecessors would have done, he marched to Carthagena, the metropolis of the Punic possessions in Spain, and closely invested it. So bold a stroke was little anticipated by anyone. In vain did Mago advance to relieve it: it fell, after a short but vigorous siege. Its riches became the prey of the new general; and Mago himself was among the numerous prisoners made on that occasion.

The progress of Scipio was now rapid. He penetrated into Baetica, overthrew Hasdrubal (who however succeeded in crossing the Pyrenees and reaching Italy); and in another battle took Hanno, the brother and successor of Hasdrubal, prisoner. In another campaign he reduced several places in the same province, the last stronghold of the Punic forces. In a third he forever broke the power of the enemy by a decisive though dearly bought victory over the heroic Hasdrubal, the son of Gisgo.

The Carthaginians were now driven to the last extremity. Having severely chastised the natives who had dared to aspire after liberty, Scipio proceeded to attack Cadiz, the first and last possession of the African republic in the Peninsula. Seeing that resistance 201-133 B.C. would be useless, and pressed by the repeated letters of Hannibal for new reinforcements, the senate at length gave orders that the city should be abandoned and the troops conveyed to Italy. Thus ended the Punic domination in Spain, after an eventful struggle of thirteen years with the armies of Rome.

At length an event occurred of which the consequences were well-nigh proving fatal to the unprincipled sway of the republic in the Peninsula. The consul Lucullus and the praetor Galba had penetrated into the heart of Lusitania, to extirpate, one by one, the warlike tribes of that country. Their enormous exactions and unheard-of cruelties were too glaring to be wholly passed over even by the historians of their own nation. While on this expedition the latter received a deputation from various people on the banks of the Tagus, who offered to submit to the Romans on the conditions formerly ratified by the two parties. He readily accepted their proposal, spoke to them with the utmost kindness, and expressed his anxiety to better their condition by removing them to more fertile seats, where they might enjoy undisturbed the fruits of their industry under the protection of Rome. Transported by this cheering prospect, and sick of the miseries of anarchy, 30,000 poor Spaniards resorted to his camp. Having secured their arms, under the pretext that such weapons would be useless in the peaceful life on which they were about to enter, swift as lightning he fell on them thus separated and helpless, massacred above 9,000, and made 20,000 prisoners, whom he sold for slaves throughout the provinces of Gaul. But few escaped, and among these were Viriatus; the most wonderful man in the ancient history of Spain.

This man (Viriatus) was only a shepherd when he set out on his heroic and patriotic career, but he won battle after battle, and the Lusitani soon made him their king. For many years he fought against the Romans, and even forced them to make peace. But in the end the Roman general Quintus Coepio bribed three of the friends of Viriatus to murder him while he was asleep. So, too, in the north of Spain the city of Numantia refused to open its gates to the Romans, and fought against them for many years (144-133 B.C.). At last the Romans had to send their greatest general, Scipio Aemilianus; and he could only take the city by digging a ditch all round it, so that no one could go in or come out, till at last the Numantines almost died of hunger. Before they surrendered 123-82 B.C. the chief men killed themselves, and when the gates were opened a few only came out, and they were nearly starved to death. Numantia was taken in 123 B.C., and after this Spain was made into Roman provinces.

The destruction of Numantia was the forerunner of the submission of three-fourths of the Peninsula. It inspired so much dread into all the native tribes, except those who from the position of their country had little to fear from hostile aggression, that they dispatched deputies to the conqueror, either to acknowledge the dominion or to solicit the alliance of Rome. Thenceforth their struggles for independence were neither frequent nor simultaneous. During the whole period, indeed, from the fall of Numantia to the usurpation of Sylla, Spain presents the same unvarying picture of dull uniformity.

In the list of proscriptions consequent on the triumph of Sylla was the name of Quintus Sertorius, who had previously served in Spain in the capacity of tribune of the people.

This general was fortunate enough to escape the bloody sword of the dictator, to land in Hither Spain, and to win the favor of the Iberian tribes. Nine thousand men flocked to his standard, and enabled him to contend on the soil of Spain with the forces of his vindictive enemy.

His first efforts were not successful. A great portion of his troops, through the treachery of his lieutenant, were routed by the general of Sylla, and he himself forced to seek safety on the deep. With the aid of some Cilician corsairs he gained possession of Iviça; but that place also he was constrained to abandon. While he was deliberating whether it would not be his wisest course to abandon fighting, there came to him a deputation from the Lusitanians, who offered him the chief command of their forces, on the condition of his protecting them against the ravages of Sylla’s partisans. Accompanied by near 3,000 of his veterans, he landed in Lusitania, where his forces were immediately increased to 8,000.

The tide of his fortunes had now changed. The praetors of Sylla, Didius and Domitius were the first to feel the weight of his arm. His victory had a wonderful effect on the Lusitanian and Celtiberian tribes, who henceforth became his warmest supporters. They opened to him the gates of their towns, swelled the ranks of his army, and enabled him to triumph over the numerous forces which advanced to crush him. In a few short months he found 79-77 B.C.his power so completely established that he succeeded in forming the two nations into one great state, solely dependent on himself.

The astonishing success of Sertorius awakened the jealousy no less than the fears of Sylla. The consul Metellus Pius put his legions in motion to crush the aspiring rebel; but victory smiled on his opponent, whose forces were rendered more formidable by the arrival of Perpenna, at the head of 16,000 Roman soldiers. The blood-thirsty dictator had ceased to exist; but his party remained, headed by Metellus. That general being evidently unable to contend single-handed with Sertorius, the famous Pompey was dispatched to his aid by the republic.

Henceforth the fortune of the war was various. For some time Sertorius triumphed over Metellus and Pompey; but in their turn they reduced several of his strongest places, and defeated his lieutenant Perpenna. At length the two chiefs met near the banks of the Xucar. Both exhibited great valor; but victory, after an obstinate and bloody struggle, declared for Sertorius. This advantage, however, was useless: having effected a junction with Metellus, Pompey again made head against the victor, who sought refuge within his entrenchments. Though he routed Pompey, his lieutenant Perpenna was defeated by Metellus with a loss nearly equal. On both sides, indeed, the fortune was nearly balanced: the victory of to-day was neutralized by the defeat of to-morrow. But the generals of the republic suffered the most, because their losses could not be repaired either so soon or so efficaciously as those of Sertorius, who wielded at pleasure the resources of Lusitania and Celtiberia, and who had for allies the warlike tribes of Cantabria and the Asturias.

The war would still longer, perhaps, have been prosecuted with the same indecisive character had not some peculiar circumstances hastened the catastrophe of Sertorius. The price set on his head by a decree of Metellus, and the success of Pompey against some of the towns which had declared for him, made some of his Roman soldiers stagger in their fidelity to him. Some deserted, the rest were suspected by him. A conspiracy was formed by Perpenna, who had long been jealous of his authority. Perpenna, in pursuit of his purpose, raised a cup full of wine, and let it fall on the floor. This was the preconcerted signal. At the same moment one of the traitors aimed a blow at Sertorius, who attempted to rise; but his hands were forcibly held, while a dozen poniards found 77-61 B.C.a way to his heart. With Sertorius expired the last faint glimmer of national independence.

The towns which had obeyed the deceased chiefs now submitted to the Romans. Pompey prosecuted his successes from Andalusia to the Pyrenees: Pampeluna, in Navarre, rose at his command. After his departure the praetors had to deal with only partial insurrections, which were occasioned by their own rapacity, and were repressed without difficulty, until the wars between Caesar and Pompey shook the Peninsula from the center to the extremities, and rendered it the theater of horrors too painful to be contemplated.

Caesar first visited Spain as quaestor: nine years afterwards he returned as praetor of Farther Spain. Galicia, and such parts of Lusitania as had hitherto preserved their liberty, were the first to feel the weight of his arm, and to submit to the yoke. When the three lieutenants of Pompey, to whom, as triumvir, the government of Spain and Africa had been assigned, arrived, they found little to do until Caesar returned a third time to snatch these rich provinces from their hands.

The plan of this great captain was to attack Spain at two points. While his lieutenant, Fabius, crossed and penetrated into Hither Spain, he landed at Ampurias, and marched on the Ebro. Before, however, he could effect a junction with Fabius, that officer had sustained a reverse near Lerida, from the united forces of Afranius and Petreius, two of Pompey’s lieutenants. But that loss must have been heavy which the genius of Caesar could not repair.

To re-establish his communication with the opposite bank of the Segra, and thereby to intercept on both sides all supplies coming to Lerida and the enemy’s camp, he resolved to adopt an expedient which surprised as much as it dismayed them. That river being too deep and rapid to admit of a bridge from the place where he lay encamped, he was preparing to divert a portion into a reservoir, so that it might be forded. The two generals of Pompey, however, whose situation was already sufficiently critical, did not wait for the success of this unexpected scheme: they left Lerida, in the intention of crossing the Ebro and making Celtiberia the future seat of war. They were soon overtaken by the indefatigable Caesar and blockaded among the mountains which lie between the Ebro and the Cinna. In vain did they attempt to break his lines and return to 61-45 B.C. Lerida: they were soon in want of necessaries, and were at length compelled to capitulate.

Thus ended the first campaign of this able captain, who, without risking the safety of his troops, succeeded, by his masterly movements, in reducing the enemy to the last extremity.

Of the armies of Pompey, 25,000 men still remained under Varro, who commanded in Baetica. The victor marched against him, and compelled him to surrender also. Having thus caused his authority to be acknowledged throughout the Peninsula, he appointed his lieutenants, Cassius and Lepidus, over the two great provinces, and returned to Rome.

The fall of Pompey in Africa did not restore peace to the Roman world. The son of that famous man selected Spain as the fittest scene for opposing the dreaded dictator. Thither many of his father’s partisans had fled from Africa; and there the memory of that father was still cherished by many of the native tribes. An army sprung up on his arrival; Baetica declared for him, and the successor of Cassius was forced to escape. A fourth time did Caesar hasten to the Peninsula to support his ambitious projects by the destruction of his antagonists.

After reducing several towns which had declared for young Pompey, Caesar pitched his camp, within sight of the enemy, on the plains of Monda, about twenty-four miles from Malaga. At first the action which ensued was unfavorable to the dictator; his ranks, after an obstinate struggle, began to waver. His agitation was extreme: he alighted from his horse, raised his helmet, and rushing into the midst of his soldiers, exclaimed, “Soldiers, I am your Caesar! Veterans! after so many victories, will you suffer yourselves to be conquered by a youth?” Their courage was renewed; they rushed against the enemy; the victory was decisive. Pompey fled, after losing 30,000 of his followers. The remnant of this once formidable host threw themselves within the walls of Monda, which, after a bloody siege, acknowledged the conqueror. To complete the success of Caesar, Pompey himself was overtaken and slain, after a vain effort to escape by sea from the port of Carteia.

The towns of Baetica, which were still held by the adherents of Pompey, were now reduced by Caesar with great celerity. No sooner, however, had he left the country than Sextus Pompeius renewed the war in Lusitania, and afterwards carried it into 38 B.C.-14 A.D. Baetica. Again might the flames of war have spread over the country had not the death of the dictator allayed the fury of the adverse party; and the policy of Lepidus and Augustus, to whom it successively belonged, succeeded in tranquillizing it. Some partial disturbances, indeed, broke out before the latter assumed “the sovereignty of the Roman world”; but they were quelled by the vigorous measures of his generals.

Under the emperors Spain had no history distinct from that of the empire itself, of which it became a peaceful province. Some domestic events, however, which have been comparatively neglected by the historian of the Roman world, may occupy a passing consideration.

No sooner was Octavius raised to the monarchy of the Roman world than all Spain was declared forever tributary to the emperors. This subjection of so many tribes to one supreme head; this consolidation of so many territories, of which some had been independent, others in alliance with Rome, was justly considered important enough to serve as the basis of a new system of chronology. Hence the Spanish Era, which began thirty-eight years before Christ, and from which the national writers computed until the fourteenth century, when it was superseded by the Christian.

One of the first acts of Augustus was to decree a new division of the country. The administration of Baetica, as being the most submissive of the provinces, the artful emperor abandoned to the senate, retaining to himself that of the other two, on the pretext that they required the strong arm of military authority to keep them down: he thus reserved in his own hands the sole disposal of the Roman armies in the Peninsula.

The importance of his possessions in Spain was a sufficient reason why he should visit them in person. On his arrival in Catalonia he found his soldiers hotly engaged in the Cantabrian war. That fierce people, as well as the Asturians, had hitherto scorned submission to the Romans, and had frequently lent their assistance to the Vaccaei in the contests between them and the invaders. To penetrate into the very heart of the Cantabrian mountains was the purpose of Augustus; but after a few unimportant operations, he found that no laurels were to be gained by him in such a war, and he left the prosecution of hostilities to his lieutenant Antistius. The Roman armies then marched triumphant over these wild regions, which thus owned a temporary allegiance to the 14-69 A.D. emperor. The same success attended the arms of Carisius among the Asturians.

But northern Spain was rather overcome than subdued. Some districts of Navarre and Biscay were never trod by Roman foot, and even those who had submitted to the lieutenant of Augustus revolted as soon as their oppressors retired. Twice did the Asturians and Cantabrians rise against the Romans; and twice were they obliged to submit. Both parties, at length, seem to have become weary of the war: so long as the natives paid a nominal obedience to the Romans, and forbore from harassing their neighbors of the plains, they were left to the enjoyment of considerable freedom. Thus were the blessings of peace restored to the whole country, 200 years after the invasion of the first Scipio.

However selfish the policy of Augustus, it was often beneficial to his subjects. If he held them in the condition of slaves, he was—not perhaps from principle so much as calculation—a clement and magnificent protector. To rescue Spain from the rapacity of the local governors,—the curse of all conquered countries,—he decreed that in future they should extort no contributions from any province on the conclusion of their administration. He permitted any province, indeed, to testify its gratitude to deserving governors, but not until sixty days after their departure. This law was an admirable one.

The reign of Tiberius (14-37 A.D.) was a scourge to Spain, as it was to most other provinces of the empire. His own rapacity was bad enough; that of his praetors and proconsuls was infinitely worse. To this was added a cruelty which never relented, and which accounted the lives of thousands as nothing when vengeance or avarice was to be gratified.

Caligula was still worse. After exhausting the Roman treasury, by the most shameful excesses, he looked towards Spain for the means of replenishing his coffers, and actually set out from Rome chiefly with that view. His tragic end, however, saved the Peninsula from the infliction of his presence. Claudius and Nero succeeded to the vices of their predecessors, and added considerably to the stock. Galba, the governor of Tarragona, at the entreaty alike of the Gauls and Spaniards, raised the standard of revolt, was declared emperor by both Romans and natives, and his election was confirmed by the senate, on receiving the news of Nero’s assassination. But treason is not often successful. His own assassination, 69-272 A.D. after seven short months of empire, might be a warning to posterity, if indeed ambition were capable of profiting by any lesson.

Vespasian, and after him Titus, successfully labored to repair the evils which anarchy, rebellion, and continual bloodshed had brought on the country. Domitian undid their noble work; his praetors and proconsuls, accommodating their manners to his own, left no place free from their monstrous rapacities. The life of Nerva was too short for the welfare of the province, no less than for that of humanity. His adopted son and successor Trajan, a Spaniard by birth, and the first stranger invested with the imperial diadem, was fortunately not less mindful of both. Well may Spain boast of having given to the world one of the greatest princes that ever swayed a scepter. Under him (97-117 A.D.) peace and the arts flourished in the Peninsula. His successor, Adrian, who was also his countryman, inherited, not indeed his talents or his elevated qualities, but certainly his attachment to the country which gave birth to both. The same prosperity signalized the reigns of the great and good Antoninus Pius, and the Spaniard Marcus Aurelius, whose memory was long held in the same grateful affection. These four emperors, of whom three were Spaniards and one a Gaul, may also claim the glory of having rendered the world happier during the eighty-two years of their administration from 97 to 180 than at any other period of history.

Of more than thirty emperors who grasped the scepter from the accession of Commodus to that of Honorius, few had any immediate connection with Spain; nor was the country distinguished by much that would interest a modern reader, if we except the introduction and progress of Christianity, which will soon be noticed. As the imperial authority weakened, the tyranny of the local governors increased; the sinews of administration being relaxed, and the laws disregarded by corrupt magistrates and a licentious soldiery, there was little security either for persons or property. To these evils was added, under the reign of Galienus, the terrific scourge of foreign invasion. An irruption of the Suevi, the Franks, and other barbarians from the north of Europe passed the Pyrenees about the year 260 and laid several flourishing towns in ashes. During twelve years the destroying flood was poured over the opulent and defenseless country; when by the valor of Posthumus, the rival of Galienus, who held Gaul and Spain under his sovereign sway, it was diverted against the shores of Mauritania. 272-409 A.D. Traces of its blind fury were discernible in the time of Orosius, who wrote in the fifth century. One hundred and fifty years of peace, however, were amply sufficient to repair the mischiefs it had done, but not to give internal tranquillity. The Christian religion undoubtedly produced its natural effect in Spain as everywhere, softening the ferocity of a fierce people; but then its progress was gradual, and it had to encounter every species of opposition before its authority was established. Constantine the Great is said to have owed his conversion to a Spaniard.

From the reign of Constantine to that of Honorius there is still less in the history of Spain to distinguish it from that of the empire.

Chapter III

POLITICAL AND RELIGIOUS STATE UNDER THE ROMANS

It has been already observed that Augustus divided Spain into three provinces, Baetica, Lusitania, and Tarragona. Fifty-four years after his death, Otho added to Baetica, or rather incorporated with it, the African province of Tingitania. This division subsisted until the reign of Constantine the Great, who introduced important changes into the empire. He not only separated Tingitania from Baetica, but dissevered from the Tarraconensian province the governments of Carthagena and Galicia: hence he formed six provinces, Tarragona, Carthagena, Galicia, Lusitania, Baetica, and Tingitania. Theodosius the Great added a seventh, the Balearic Isles.

The ancient governors of the two provinces of Hither and Farther Spain had the supreme control over both civil and military affairs, and were termed consuls or praetors. As these dignities were by their institution annual, those who remained more than one year were called proconsuls or propraetors. On the accession of Augustus, the governors of Lusitania and Tarragona assumed the title of Imperial Legates (Legati Augustales), while the Baetican was still styled proconsul. Each of these great dignitaries had two or three deputies or vice-legates, who resided in the great towns of each government. Such was the general system until the time of Constantine the Great. That emperor divided the Roman world into four vast dioceses, each governed by a praetorian prefect. Spain was subject to the prefecture of Gaul, and was governed by a vicar (vicarius), on whom the local governors were dependent.

It must not, however, be supposed that the authority of these officers extended at first over all the cities of the Peninsula. Some cities were governed even in the last resort by their own laws; some depended immediately on the metropolis of the Roman world; some were free, and left to their ancient laws and tribunals. They were colonial, municipal, Roman, allied, tributary; and others there were which enjoyed the right of Latium.

The colonies were peopled by the citizens of Rome, chiefly by soldiers. The inhabitants of these establishments forfeited not the slightest of their privileges by their location in the provinces; they were governed by the same laws as the parent city, and were considered, like the non-resident freemen of our boroughs, as essentially belonging to it; their exemptions from the jurisdiction of the local governors and judges was not the least of the advantages they possessed. The municipal cities were those which were admitted to the honor of Roman citizenship, which were in like manner exempted from the jurisdiction of the provincial governors, and the inhabitants of which could aspire to the highest dignities even in the “eternal city.”

But the distinctions between these various classes were not long maintained. By Otho many Spaniards were admitted to the rights of citizenship; by Vespasian, such of the cities as had not the privilege already were presented with the right of Latium; and by Antoninus every remaining barrier was removed, all his subjects throughout his vast empire being declared citizens of Rome: from this moment the civil constitution of that empire was of necessity uniform.

The cities which obeyed the constitution of Rome were governed in a manner similar to those of Italy. Each had its municipal council or curia, the members of which (decuriones), were chosen from the principal inhabitants of the provinces. Their office, however, appears to have been unenviable, because it was in all probability gratuitous, and because they were responsible for the due payment of the customs. Some severity was required to make men of consideration undertake its numerous duties, from which the favor of the emperor only could exempt them.

The military state of Spain under the Romans is a subject little understood. That a considerable number of troops for foreign wars was furnished by this important province is attested by numerous inscriptions; but, except in cases of difficulty and danger, the Roman troops in the Peninsula seldom exceeded three legions.

So long as the empire continued prosperous, Spain, notwithstanding the evils it was made to endure, could not but participate to a certain extent in the general prosperity. The arts of life, the most elegant no less than the useful, were taught to flourish: that architecture had reached a high degree of perfection is evident from the numerous remains of antiquity which time had spared; that agriculture was cultivated with equal success is no less apparent from the testimony of that most excellent of judges, the naturalist Pliny. The riches of the soil, in corn, in oil, and in fruits, were almost inexhaustible; and the sheep were held even in higher estimation in those days than in the present. The vine was cultivated with so much success that the juice of the grape produced in the environs of Tarragona was pronounced equal to the best wines of Italy. These productions, with those of the mines, and the demand for native manufactures, gave rise to an extensive commerce; more extensive, indeed, than that which had existed under the Carthaginians. There was this important difference between the two conquering nations: while the African, with the characteristic selfishness of a trader, engrossed every advantage to himself, the noble-minded Roman admitted others to a free participation in those advantages.

But the most important subject of the present chapter is that of religion,—not paganism, which, as its state in Spain is in no respect different from that of Italy, need not be described here; but—Christianity, the introduction, progress, and condition of which must be regarded with attention.

If tradition as an authority had not long ceased to be recognized on this side the Pyrenees, the historian would have little difficulty in fixing the period of the introduction of the Christian faith into Spain. During eighteen centuries its uninterrupted voice has named St. James the Elder as the first herald of the Gospel to the idolatrous people of that country. That the apostle traversed the Peninsula, from Lusitania and Galicia to the heart of Aragon; that while at Saragossa he was honored by a visit from the Virgin, and that by her express command he erected on the spot a church in her honor; that after his martyrdom at Jerusalem his body was brought by his disciples from Syria to Iria Flavia (now El Padron), in Galicia, and thence transferred to Compostella, to be venerated by the faithful as long as the world shall endure, no orthodox Spaniard ever doubted. With equal assurance of faith, and certainly with greater appearance of reason, it is believed that St. Paul, in person, continued the work of his martyred fellow-disciple, and sowed the seeds of the new doctrine in Catalonia, Aragon, Valencia, and, above all, in Andalusia.

But whether these apostles or their successors propagated the Gospel in the Peninsula, certain it is that Spain can adduce her martyrs as early as the second century,—perhaps even in the first.

It was during the reign of the fierce Diocletian that the fires of persecution blazed with the greatest fury throughout the Peninsula, but their violence was cooled after the death of Diocletian. During the civil wars which ravaged the empire under Maximian and Constantius Chlorus, the Christians began to breathe. Constantine followed; and, after his conversion the church had peace from without; but within, the partisans of Athanasius and Arius clouded the horizon of her tranquillity.

Like the other Christian provinces of the empire, Spain had its heresies. On that of Arius we shall have to dwell in the reign of the Gothic kings, which, during the time of Constantine and his sons, so much distracted the Christian world, and against which Osius, the bishop of Cordova, signalized himself with a zeal only inferior to that of Athanasius himself. Far more remarkable was the heresy of the Priscillianists, with their mixture of Christianity and the ancient Oriental philosophy of dualism.

So long as Maximus lived the numerous adherents of Priscillian were pursued with unrelenting severity by Idatius; but soon after the death of that emperor this turbulent prelate, whose cruelties had long revolted his episcopal brethren, was banished, and the heat of persecution began to abate. Yet Priscillianism was not extirpated: notwithstanding its renewed condemnation by the first council of Toledo, it continued to distract the church of Spain long after the accession of the Gothic dynasty.

Though the effects produced by Christianity on the moral condition of the Spaniards were in the highest degree beneficial, yet they were not universal; paganism had shot its roots too deeply and too widely into the soil to be plucked up with facility. Many of the converts were but nominally so: if, for the sake of the advantages attending the profession of the new faith after it had become the religion of the state, they outwardly conformed to it, either their hearts yearned after the superstitions of old, or their lax morality proved that they were still infected with the vices of idolatry. By degrees, too, the fervor of those who embraced Christianity from conviction cooled, and the former severity of their manners gave way to licentiousness. The bloody combats of the Circus and the obscene representations of the theater—representations which, according to a contemporary writer, could not be witnessed without pollution—were not the only signs of a rapidly increasing demoralization: the rich neglected their wives for their handsome servants and others; not, indeed, to the extent assigned by the same morose writer, but certainly to one fearfully indicative of the prevailing corruption. The priesthood, no less than the laity, were infected by it. “Clergymen,” says Salvian, “who had wives, and even those living in concubinage, are raised to the dignities of the church, to the great scandal of the faithful.”

One of the noblest effects of Christianity was the diminution of slavery. Under the pagan Romans many vexatious formalities were required before manumission could be given to a slave. Constantine allowed the act to be in all cases legal and binding, provided it took place in the church, in presence of the priests and congregation. Subsequently Jews and heretics were forbidden to have Christian slaves; and if the slaves of the latter were pagan also, they became free by embracing the religion of the Gospel. A third regulation conferred the right of Roman citizenship on all thus publicly manumitted, and also legalized the mere intention of a master to free his slave, provided that intention were expressed in presence of witnesses.

Chapter IV

HISTORY OF THE GOTHS, 409-755 A.D.

From the accession of Honorius the Roman empire existed only by sufferance. The fierce hordes of northern Europe now prepared to inundate the fertile provinces of the south, and the more powerful local governors to secure themselves an independent sovereignty. Spain was soon agitated by the spirit which spontaneously burst forth from Britain to Thrace. While Constantine, who had assumed the purple, raised England and the Gauls against the feeble successor of the Caesars, his son Constans passed the Pyrenees to gain over the natives of the Peninsula. The youth found or made adherents, and was for a time successful; but in the sequel he was compelled to return to Gaul for reinforcements. The appearance of another candidate for empire (Jovinus) distracted the attention and weakened the efforts of the kindred adventurers; and ultimately all these became successively the victims of imperial vengeance; chiefly by means of the warlike tribes whom the minister of Honorius had marched from the shores of the Baltic to crush the new insurrections. But the policy of that minister was, if not perfidious, at least shortsighted. The barbarians whom he had thus introduced into the heart, and to whom he thus betrayed the weakness of the empire, from allies soon became masters. They looked with longing eyes on the rich plains of southern France and of Spain. At length, finding the Pyrenean barrier but negligently guarded, the Suevi, under their king, Hermeric, the Alans under Atace, and the Vandals, or Silingi, under Gunderic,^[4] burst through it, and poured the tide of destruction over the Peninsula.

The ravages of these barbarians, we are told, were dreadful. Towns pillaged and burned, the country laid waste, the inhabitants414-419 A.D. massacred without distinction of age or sex, were but the beginning of evils. They divided it by lot: Baetica fell to the Vandals, Lusitania to the Alans, and Galicia, with a great portion of Leon and Castile, to the Suevi.

A fourth people, more formidable than the rest combined, came to trouble the new settlers in their possessions. These were the Goths under Ataulphus, whom Honorius had the address to remove from Italy, by ceding to them the fertile provinces of southern Gaul, and the Peninsula. Having established the seat of his kingdom at Narbonne, where he married his imperial captive Placidia, he passed the Pyrenees, made a triumphant entry into Barcelona, and from there undertook several expeditions against the Vandals. A conspiracy was formed, however, against his life, and the sword of a dwarf pierced his body, as he was conspicuously watching the evolutions of his cavalry, in the courtyard of his palace at Barcelona.

Sigeric succeeded in 415 and his ruffianly conduct instantly drew on him the detestation of the Goths. Scarcely had he put to death the six surviving children of Ataulphus, and compelled the widowed Placidia to adorn his triumph by walking barefoot through the streets of Barcelona, than another conspiracy deprived him of his throne and his life. His fate excited no commiseration: he had dealt in blood, and there was evident retribution in his end.

The election of the Goths now fell on Wallia, a chief every way worthy of their choice. His first expedition, however, against the Roman possessions in Africa was disastrous. A violent tempest destroyed his fleet, and forced him to relinquish his design. The news of this disaster soon reached Gaul, and brought Constantius, the general of Honorius, at the head of a numerous army, towards the Pyrenees. Wallia collected the remnant of his troops, and hastened to receive him. Fortunately for the Gothic king, love rather than ambition occasioned the hostile approach of Constantius. That general was more anxious to gain possession of Placidia, whose hand had been promised him by the emperor, than to effect the destruction of the king. No sooner did the two armies encamp in sight of each other than he proposed peace on conditions too advantageous to be rejected. Wallia had only to surrender the royal widow, and promise to march against the Suevi and the other 420-438 A.D. nations who held possession of the Peninsula, to secure not merely the neutrality but the favor of the Romans.

He therefore advised his soldiers to deliver up Placidia, to march against the fierce northern tribes, who were located in a country which of right belonged to them alone, and promised that, after the conquest of the enemy, he would renew hostilities with Rome. A shout of approbation followed; Placidia was restored, and peace made with the Romans.

Under the reign of Theodored, Wallia’s successor, in 420, the Vandals made war on the Suevi, who, two years before, had received them as brothers. The latter retreated to the fastnesses of the Asturias, where they bade defiance to their ungrateful pursuers. The Vandals forsook Galicia, and fought their way to their former settlements in Baetica, whence Wallia had expelled them. To that province they communicated their name—Vandalicia, which was subsequently changed into Andalusia. There they maintained themselves, in opposition to the imperial generals. The ports of Andalusia and Granada presented them with facilities for pushing their successes on the deep. They constructed a fleet; infested the Balearic Isles; pillaged the coast of Valencia; sacked the city of Carthagena; laid waste the shores of Mauritania; and returned to Seville, where the last act of their king, Gunderic, was to despoil the opulent church of St. Vincent. They then tranquilly returned to the seacoast; and, to the number of 80,000, passed over to Africa, in March, 427, eighteen years after their arrival in Spain.

The retreat of these restless barbarians did not ensure tranquillity to Spain. The Suevi, under their new king, Hermeric, issued from their dark mountains, and bore down on the peaceable inhabitants of Galicia. Having easily reduced them, the ambitious monarch pushed his successes into the neighboring provinces, and in ten years became formidable alike to the Romans and the Goths. But it was reserved for his son Richilan, to whom in 438, he resigned his scepter, to raise the fame of the nation to the highest pitch. He descended into Andalusia, routed the Romans on the banks of the Xenil, and seized on Merida and Seville. Over his new conquests he held a firm sway until the period of his death.

In the meantime Theodored was no less occupied in humbling the Roman power in southern Gaul. He was at length induced to grant peace to his prostrate enemy. While meditating hostilities 451-483 A.D. against the triumphant Suevi, he was summoned to encounter a far more formidable antagonist—the renowned Attila, king of the Huns. His well-known valor placed him at the head of the right wing of the Franks, Romans, and Goths, who combined to arrest the progress of the tremendous torrent. His death on the plains of Châlons, where the pride of the barbaric king was humbled, endeared him still more to his subjects, who gratefully elevated his son Thorismund to the vacant throne. But the reign of the new king was brief and his end tragic. In one year, at the hands of his two brothers, he was deprived of empire and of life, in his capital of Toulouse; and Theodoric I., the elder of the fratricides, was elected in place.

The reign of this prince was diversified by alternate success and disaster. He first turned his arms against the Suevi, whom he vanquished, and made their king, Richiarius, prisoner; but being recalled to France, the army which he left in the Peninsula was routed by the natives of Leon, who were indignant at the excesses it committed. The whole country was now in the most miserable condition. Goths and Romans and Suevi traversed it in every direction, and everywhere left melancholy vestiges of their barbarous fury. At length, while preparing to conduct a new army across the Pyrenees against Remismund, king of Suevi, he was assassinated, it is said, by his brother Euric, in his capital of Toulouse. Not even the virtues of this prince, and he had many, could shield him from the vengeance of Heaven.

One of the first acts of Euric was to dispatch an army to humble the pride of the Suevi. His arms were eminently successful. He died in Arles A.D. 483, after engaging his subjects to elect for their king his son Alaric.

Euric was the founder of the Gothic kingdom of Spain. The extinction of the Roman sway and the subjection of the Suevi rendered him absolute lord of the country. The six kings, his predecessors, were rulers in Gaul, not of Spain; however they might regard its provinces as rightfully their own, they could obtain possession only by force of arms. Their conquests, however, had been partial and temporary; before Euric, the Peninsula was overrun, not subdued. He was also the first legislator of his nation.

But Alaric was unable to tread in the steps of so great a prince as his father. Whether through pusillanimity or prudence, 483-522 A.D. he labored to secure peace for himself and people, and patiently put up with affronts which would have fired most princes of his nation. In vain did his father-in-law Theodoric, who had just founded the kingdom of the Ostrogoths in Italy, interpose in his behalf; the fierce Clovis marched towards Poitiers, where Alaric then lay, resolved, as he said, to expel the heretical Arians from the soil of Gaul. In vain did the king of the Visigoths endeavor to fortify himself in his camp until he received succors from Italy; his own soldiers, incensed at the haughtiness of the Franks, who braved them in their very trenches, compelled him to run the risk of a battle. The Visigoths, after a sharp conflict, were routed with great loss, and their king left dead on the field. Clovis pursued his successes, and soon reduced the greater part of their possessions in the south of France and entered victorious into their capital of Toulouse.

Alaric left a son, but as he was too young to be entrusted with the government, his bastard brother, Gensaleic, had the address to procure the elective crown (506-511). He was unable to make head against the Franks, and still less, when the Burgundians also entered the field, to share in the partition of the rich spoils of the Goths. But the king of the Ostrogoths now armed in defense not only of a kindred nation, but of his grandson, whom he considered as unjustly supplanted by Gensaleic. His armies invested Gaul, overthrew the Franks, who were pressing the siege of Carcassonne, and forced Gensaleic to seek for safety in Barcelona. The humbled Clovis was glad to sue for peace from the formidable Theodoric, who arrived in person to direct the operations of his generals. The success of his arms seems to have roused his ambition; for, regardless of his grandson’s rights, he united the two kingdoms of the Ostrogoths and Visigoths under his own scepter. The unfortunate Gensaleic was pursued, and defeated in Catalonia, whence he contrived to escape into France; but he was overtaken and slain by the victor.

Though Theodoric II. never established his court in Spain, he was not regardless of her interests. To Theudis, one of his ablest generals, he entrusted the administration of the country and the guardianship of his grandson.

Amalaric in 522 was the first Gothic king who established his court in Spain, in the city of Seville. To Athalaric, the successor of Theodoric, he ceded that portion of France which lies between 506-560 A.D. the Rhone and the Alps, and received in return his father’s treasures, which Theodoric had removed from Carcassonne to Ravenna: in the rest of Gothic Gaul, with all Spain, he was solemnly confirmed by Athalaric.

To secure his possessions in Gaul against the formidable Franks, Amalaric demanded and obtained the hand of Clotilda, the sister of the royal sons of Clovis. But the union was unfortunate.

With Amalaric ended the royal line of the mighty Alaric. Theudis was unanimously elected to the vacant throne. He appears to have been engaged in hostilities for some years with the vindictive or ambitious sons of Clovis. Gothic Gaul he was compelled to abandon to its fate, but he vigorously defended his peninsular dominions, which were invaded and laid waste by Childebert and Clothaire.

Of the next two princes who successively swayed the Gothic scepter very little is known. The former, Theudisel, who had been the general of Theudis, and had acquired considerable fame in the war with the Franks, was a monster of licentiousness. This second Sardanapalus had scarcely reigned eighteen months before his destruction was effected by his enraged nobles. He was supping with them one evening in his palace at Seville, when the lights were suddenly extinguished, and a dozen swords entered his body. He was succeeded by Agilan, whose reign was one continued series of commotions. Many cities of southern Spain refused to recognize his election. Among these was Cordova, which armed against him. He marched to chastise them, but was vanquished, with the loss of his son and treasures; and was ignominiously forced to seek shelter within the walls of Merida. From Cordova, the insurrection spread to other provinces; it was headed by Athanagild, a Gothic noble, who aspired to the throne. To strengthen his party, this ambitious man called in the assistance of the imperial troops, and with these combined forces the king was again defeated, and ultimately slain by his own soldiers, in his retirement at Merida.

During the reign of Athanagild, the Suevi, who had abandoned paganism for the errors of Arius, in the time of their king Richiarius, about a century before, were converted to the orthodox faith. Though subject to the Goths, they had still preserved their kingly form of government.

The reign of Leovigild (570 to 580) is more interesting than that of his predecessors. His first war was against the imperialists,570-582 whom he chased from Granada, and from whom he took Malaga, Medina-Sidonia, Cordova, and some other towns. Nor was he less successful against the rebels, who, for what reason the chroniclers of the time do not inform us, had arisen in various parts of the country, especially in Castile and Leon, to resist his authority. The money and persuasions of the imperialists is said to have been the chief cause of these insurrections. There is, however, more reason to believe that the difference of religion between the Goths and the Spaniards may have contributed to them in a degree at least equal. However this be, his arms were triumphant in every direction. The soldiers of the empire were again compelled to take refuge in their fortresses on the coast, and the fierce inhabitants of Biscay, Alava, and even Cantabria, to surrender at discretion. These successes were not obtained without loss both of troops and of time: ten years, at least, does he appear to have been occupied in this great work of establishing peace in his dominions, from the straits of Gibraltar to the mountains of Biscay.

But the most painful, if not the most formidable, of his enemies he found in his eldest son Ermenigild. Yet few sons had ever more reason for filial gratitude. By an affectionate father, on his marriage with the Princess Ingunda, daughter of the famous Brunichilda and of Sigebert (which was celebrated in Toledo in 582,) he had been associated in the royal dignity, and in every other respect treated with the utmost liberality. But Ingunda was orthodox, and Gosvinda, the second wife of Leovigild, a professor of the Arian sect. The two queens could not long agree: the one was resolved that her stepdaughter should embrace the religion of the Goths; the other, that no force on earth should induce her to do so.

Ermenigild had not long been established in his new palace before he abjured Arianism, and embraced the Catholic religion. His conversion was chiefly the work of his consort, who had acquired great ascendency over him; but it was doubtless hastened by the arguments of his uncle, St. Leander, the bishop of Seville (his mother, Theodosia, the first wife of Leovigild, is celebrated as the sister of three saints). Leovigild, though of a soul naturally elevated, had yet something of the violence which characterized his queen. He heard with indignation of what he termed his son’s 582-586 recreancy; and it is probable that, in the first movements of his anger, he declared that the crown of the Goths should never adorn the brow of an apostate. The breach was doubtless widened by their respective queens, until it ended in open hostility.

What gives confirmation to the suspicion that Ermenigild led the way to the disasters which followed is the fact that he opened an intercourse with the enemies of his father immediately after, perhaps at the time of, his conversion. He allied himself with the Greeks, and dispatched Leander to Constantinople to obtain the ratification of the treaty,—a commission which that prelate was not ashamed to execute. He again connected himself with the Greeks, the most faithless and most formidable enemies to the repose of Spain; instigated the natives to rebellion, and at the head of this combined force made an irruption into Estremadura. The indignation of Leovigild may well be conceived. Then it was that the king, whose inflammable temper seldom required the torch of excitement, broke out into a fit of ungovernable fury, and gave orders for the execution of the youth. The order was but too promptly obeyed: the ministers of vengeance hastened to the dungeon, and a hatchet cleft the head of the prince of the Goths.

After the news of Ermenigild’s death in 584 the brothers of Ingunda armed in the cause of their widowed sister. At the same time the Suevi showed a disposition to be restless, and prepared to descend from the mountains of Galicia, on the plains of central Spain. Nothing could exceed the promptitude with which Leovigild met these threatening disasters. While he himself marched to subdue his rebellious vassals, whose nationality he had long resolved to destroy, he dispatched his son Recared into Gaul to oppose the Franks. Both expeditions were eminently successful. In the former he was materially aided by the dissension which prevailed among the Suevi, of whom a considerable number were hostile to their reigning monarch, the usurper, Andeca. The new king was served as he had served the lawful ruler, Eboric,—his head was shaven and he was consigned to a monastery. All Galicia submitted, and a final period was put to the domination of the Suevi, 177 years after their arrival in Spain. In the latter expedition Recared, after various successes, expelled the invaders from Gothic Gaul.

This great prince was now undisputed master of the Peninsula, 587-610 with the exception of some maritime fortresses still held by the Greeks. Unfortunately, however, for his fame, he stained the luster of a splendid reign by persecuting the orthodox or Catholic party.

Leovigild died in 587, very shortly after his successes over the Suevi. A year before his death he associated his son in his royal dignity, probably as a reward for the abilities and courage which that prince had exhibited in the war with the Franks. His character will be best learned from his acts. His greatest glory, in a Spaniard’s eye, is his suspected conversion to the Catholic faith a few days before his death. If the alleged change were less disputable, we should hear no more of his defects; they would be carefully covered by the veil of orthodoxy.

On the death of his father Recared I. was unanimously acknowledged sole king of the Goths.

In about a year after his accession this prince conceived the hardy project of reclaiming his subjects from heresy. Scarcely had the Gothic monarch effected the conversion of his subjects when he was called to defend those of southern Gaul against Gontram, king of the Franks, who burned to retrieve the honor of his arms, so sullied during the last war with Leovigild. A force of 60,000 men seemed sufficient to extinguish forever the Gothic power in Gaul. Not less signal was his success over the Basques, who, with their characteristic restlessness, had long harassed the neighboring provinces. The imperialists, too, he humbled, and compelled them to seek refuge in their fortresses.

The rest of this monarch’s reign was a continual effort to promote the happiness of his people; his administration was beyond example prosperous, and he enjoyed to an unrivaled extent their confidence and affection. He died in 601.

Of the eleven succeeding sovereigns little is known, and that little is not interesting. In general their reigns were brief, and their actions unimportant, so that we have the less reason to regret the scantiness of our historic materials. Liuva, the eldest son and successor of Recared, gave the most favorable promise of a wise and happy reign, but ere two years were passed he was assassinated by the same Witeric whom his father’s clemency had pardoned. Witeric obtained the object of his guilty ambition, but had little reason to congratulate himself on his success. In his wars, too obscure to be noticed, he was uniformly unfortunate, and 610-653 in his family he was not more to be envied. He had one advantage,—an advantage not always enjoyed by the Visigoth monarchs of Spain,—that of dying a natural death. Sisebert, whose brows were next adorned with this dangerous diadem, was much superior to his immediate predecessors. His successes over both the Basques and the Imperialists were more signal; they were also more solid, since he reduced and retained several fortresses belonging to the latter; those which lay near the straits of Gibraltar were lost to them forever. But he deserves greater praise for his humanity than for his valor or skill in war. Strange that this prince, who was thus indulgent to his very enemies, should so rigorously have persecuted his Jewish subjects! He published an edict which left them no alternative but baptism or scourges and utter destitution. Eighty thousand of the poor wretches submitted to the rite; a great number escaped into France; such as remained and were obstinate in their faith were treated with great cruelty. He died in 621. His son, Recared II., reigned only three months. Swintila, the next in succession, is represented as a strange compound of great and vicious qualities; at least his life exhibited, at two different periods, a strange contrast with itself. On the one side he had the glory of effecting what his predecessors had attempted in vain,—he reduced all the fortresses held by the imperialists, and forever ended their influence in the Peninsula; he was thus the first Gothic monarch of all Spain. With equal success did he quell the commotions of the Basques, to arrest whose future ravages he built a town and fortress, now called Olite. Nor was his reputation as a monarch inferior to his fame as a warrior. On the death of this monarch the choice of the Goths fell on Chintila, who, in conformity with the regulation just mentioned, convoked the prelates at Toledo to confirm his election. His successor, Tulga, who was elected in 640, was also a model of the peaceful virtues. His easiness of disposition, however, and his youth appear to have been fatal to internal peace. To deter his restless nobles from their favorite inclination to treason, he is said, on authority, however, somewhat disputable, to have punished with peculiar severity even the relations and descendants of such as were known to have plotted against the former sovereigns. Of the fear inspired by his rigor, no better proof could be adduced than the fact that, in opposition to the custom and wishes of the Goths, he associated with him in the royal dignity his son Receswind, and 653-673 that on his death in 653 that prince remained in secure possession of the crown. Not that no efforts were made to snatch it from this prince’s brow. The Gothic nobles could not see with much complacency any advance towards the hereditary transmission of a dignity which each might hope one day to possess. Receswind died, at an advanced age, in 672.

After the death of Receswind the eyes of the Gothic electors were turned on Wamba, whose wisdom and virtues were well known to the whole nation. But this excellent man, who had filled some of the most honorable posts in the monarchy, and had found little happiness in greatness, was little inclined to accept the proffered dignity. He alleged his advanced age, and his consequent incapacity to undertake duties requiring such labor and activity. Prayers and tears were vainly employed to move him. At length one of the dukes of the palace placed a poniard at his breast and bade him choose between the sepulchre and a throne. Such a choice was no longer difficult, and Wamba reigned.

But though Wamba was so strongly attached to the tranquil scenes of retired private life, he was eminently fitted for the duties of royalty and was fully equal to the difficulties of his new situation. With inconceivable rapidity he first proceeded to reduce the northern mountaineers, whom he soon compelled to implore his mercy. He was now consequently at liberty to march against a more formidable enemy.

In the meantime an artful Greek, Duke Paul, had prevailed on the Goths to proclaim him king. By representing Wamba as disgusted with the cares of the scepter, and anxious to return to private life; by exaggerating the number and force of the rebels on various parts of the frontiers; by loudly asserting the inutility of any efforts to restore them by the lawful ruler; and, above all, by flattering alike the prejudices and passions of the people, and by union of interests with some powerful leaders, the crown of Recared had been placed on his head in the Gallo-Gothic capital of Narbonne. This intelligence flew to the camp of Wamba in Cantabria. The prudent Wamba, after the successful issue of the Cantabrian war, marched towards Catalonia. On the confines of that province he divided his forces into three considerable bodies, of which, while one was conveyed by sea, the other two proceeded towards the Pyrenees by two different routes. Barcelona submitted almost without resistance; Gerona offered none; two of his generals 586-702 speedily reduced the fortress of Clausina, on the site of the modern Clusas, and made Hilderic and Ranosind prisoners. The victorious king now marched on Narbonne, in the hope of ending the war by the reduction of that capital and the seizure of the rebel.

The reduction of Narbonne was followed by that of other strong places in the neighborhood. Wamba pacified the whole of Gothic Gaul, deposed some governors, and created others, and having repaired the towns which had been injured, and banished the Jews, returned to his capital triumphant.

After those glorious exploits he applied his undivided cares to the interests of his subjects. By cultivating the arts of peace, by bettering the temporal condition of the people, by encouraging the clergy to greater diligence, by strengthening the walls of Toledo, and by causing justice to be administered in mercy, he secured the confidence of his kingdom. The bases of his character seem to have been incorruptible integrity, an ardent zeal for his country’s good, and a rare union of moderation with firmness. He was also unrivaled for prudence,—he provided for everything. Foreseeing the enterprises to which the fanatic ambition of the Saracens would inevitably impel them, he prepared a fleet for the defense of the coast. He had soon to congratulate himself on his prophetic caution. About the year 677 a fleet of 170 barques filled with these barbarians passed the straits of Gibraltar and attempted to land; they were assailed, dispersed, or taken by the ships of the king, whose vigor long kept the Mussulmans in awe. Though masters of nearly all northern Africa, from the Nile to the Atlantic Ocean, they wisely respected for many years the territories of the Goths. Had Wamba’s successors Ervigius and Ergica had equal prudence and activity, the scourge of Saracenic domination, the greatest, perhaps, that ever afflicted any people, would probably have been forever averted from Spain.

Of Witiza, to whom we now pass, we know little that is certain, but much that is apocryphal. Over his character, his actions, and even his death there rests a cloud of uncertainty which will probably never be removed. It is, however, agreed that in the beginning of his reign he evinced many great qualities; that he redressed many grievances inflicted by his father Ergica and restored their possessions and liberty to many who had been unjustly deprived of both, and that he remitted the heavy arrears of taxes 702-711 due at his accession,—nay, that, to prevent the possibility of their being collected, he caused the books in which the names of the defaulters were contained to be publicly burned. On the other hand, it appears no less true that the excellent qualities deducible from such acts were associated with others of a very different description or that his character must soon have changed.

Amid the darkness, however, which covers this period of the national history it appears certain that the vices of Witiza drew on him the indignation of the Goths, and that he was actually driven into exile by King Roderic. Probably, however, the two princes reigned at the same time, the one at Toledo, the other in Andalusia, until the arms of the latter triumphed and secured him the undivided possession of the country. But at this distance of time nothing is left us but conjecture; and the chief actions of Witiza, like those of his more famous successor, must remain forever veiled from the knowledge of man; all that we can certainly know is that Roderic ascended the throne of the Goths in 709.

The circumstances which accompanied the elevation and fall of this prince, who appears to have been a descendant of Chindaswind, are as doubtful as any other events of this dark period. The amour of Roderic with Count Julian’s daughter, and its fatal consequences, must be rejected by historic criticism,—not so much that they are at variance with probability as that they have no authentic foundation in ancient chronicles.^[5]

Throughout this cloud of darkness and of doubt some events are faintly visible which may be admitted as facts. It appears certain that Roderic owed his crown to a party which rose against Witiza, that the dethroned monarch was blinded, or driven into exile, that the two sons of Witiza, with their relations, Count Julian and Oppas the archbishop, still kept alive the embers of civil strife; and that, finding they were unable to contend any longer with the victorious king, they resolved to call in the Arabs, with the design, not of delivering the country to those infidels, but of humbling the pride of Roderic and of replacing him by one of the sons of the late monarch.

The generals of the caliph had long cast a greedy eye on the rich provinces of the Peninsula, and their joy was extreme on learning the deadly divisions of the Goths, and on receiving so 711 unexpected an invitation to interfere between them. The emir, Muza ben Nozeir, on whom the caliph Abdelmelic ben Meruan had conferred the command of the troops destined to finish the subjugation of the western provinces of Africa, and who, for his great exploits, had been confirmed in his authority by the succeeding caliph, Walid Abul Abbas, was the general to whom the party of Witiza applied for aid.

No sooner was Muza satisfied that the Gothic monarchy, however splendid in its outward appearance, was all rottenness within, than he hastened his preparations. From the port of Ceuta he dispatched a chosen body of 1,500 horse, under the command of his valiant lieutenant Tarik ben Zeyad. This insignificant force could not be intended for conquest, but merely to sound the disposition and courage of the inhabitants and the fidelity of Count Julian and his associates. The invaders landed on the coast of Andalusia and ravaged the country with perfect impunity: not the slightest opposition was made to their carrying away their plunder and captives. Tarik returned in triumph to Tangier, and was soon afterwards dispatched a second time, at the head of a much more formidable armament, to strike a decisive blow for empire and the faith. Some opposition was attempted to his landing at Algeziras, but it was speedily dissipated. He entrenched himself at the foot of the rock Calpe, the projecting portion of which has since been called Gibraltar.^[6] This memorable disembarkation took place on the 5th day of the moon Regeb, A.H. 91, which corresponds to April 30, A.D. 711.

The governor of Andalusia, Theodomir (the Tadmir of the Arabs), seeing that his handful of troops would be utterly useless in arresting the tide of invasion, hastily demanded succor from Roderic. Startled at this unexpected danger, the king, who appears even still to have been occupied in reducing the adherents of Witiza’s family, immediately dispatched a strong body of cavalry to reinforce his general. Theodomir now advanced towards the enemy, who are said to have been alarmed at first by the number of the Goths, and even to have meditated returning, when Tarik set fire to the vessels which had conveyed them, and thus left them no escape but in their own valor. Again were the Christians defeated; troops of Moorish cavalry now scoured the country in all directions and reduced with incredible rapidity the unprotected towns which they assailed.

Roderic, like the rest of his nation, was convinced that the warfare was too serious to be intrusted to a minor hand, or to be710-711 met by partial measures. At the head of the whole force of the Goths, amounting, it is said, to 90,000 men, he advanced against the audacious invaders. He encountered them on the plains of the modern Xeres de la Frontera, about two leagues from Cadiz and on the western bank of the Guadalete. The battle commenced on one of the latter days in July, that is, about three months after the disembarkation at Algeziras. The fight had continued some time, to the disadvantage, we are told, of the Mohammedans, whose ranks were gradually giving way, when Tarik rode among them, showing them that flight could not avail them, destitute as they were of ships to convey them back, and cut off, as most of them would inevitably be, in the retreat. He added that to rush against the enemy was less hazardous than flight: that courage was their only resource, Allah their only hope. Bidding them imitate his example, he plunged among the Gothic squadrons and with his scimitar opened a way before him. The example was not lost: a new ardor seized on the Mohammedans, who rushed after him, sure either of victory or of paradise. Roderic, who had valiantly maintained his post throughout this terrific struggle, was easily known by the ensigns of his dignity, and was cut down by the weapon of Tarik. Before the king fell, however, Oppas and the sons of Witiza are said either to have abandoned the field or to have joined the invaders. Treachery, the death of the royal Goth, and the renewed vigor of the Mohammedans were fatal to the already wearied Christians, whose slaughtered bodies soon covered the plain. The head of the king was sent to Muza, and by that emir forwarded to the court at Damascus.

Thus fell the monarchy of the Goths, after one of the best contested and most sanguinary battles in all history. That the Christians would have remained victors had not treachery destroyed them may reasonably be inferred from their superiority in number. It is impossible, however, to feel much sympathy for their fate: their cruel despotism over their slaves, their horrible persecution of such as differed from them in religion, must brand the memory of these tyrants and bigots with everlasting infamy. The Visigothic monarchy was founded in usurpation and blood, and its end was correspondent.

Success so signal and unexpected astonished Muza, and perhaps 711 displeased him. In his letters, indeed, he affected great satisfaction at it; but the base envy which had taken possession of his heart was but too apparent in his ordering Tarik to remain for a time inactive, on the pretext that the army required reinforcement before new conquests were attempted. His object was now to pass over to the Peninsula and reap the laurels which another had merited; laurels, indeed, which, in his letter to the caliph, he modestly attributed to himself. The motive for this required suspension of hostilities was seen and despised by Tarik. Tarik, with true Mussulman duplicity, feigned reluctance to disobey the commands of his superior, and seemed to yield only in compliance with the expressed wishes of his officers, and with the urgency of circumstances. He now rode among his troops, praised them for their past valor, and promised them new conquests. To his honor it must be added that he enjoined moderation. Having divided his army into three bodies, he sent one, headed by Mugueiz el Rumi, to besiege Cordova; another, under the orders of Zayd Aben Kesadi, was directed to move on Malaga; with the third he hastened towards Toledo.

In the meantime the Goths, or rather some of the more valiant nobles, in 711 acknowledged Theodomir as the successor of Roderic; not, perhaps, with the view of offering any successful resistance, but of obtaining more favorable terms from the victors. Roderic was therefore not, strictly speaking, “the last of the Goths.” After his fall the scepter was swayed, though with sadly diminished splendor, by Theodomir and Athanagild.

Mugueiz el Rumi, on his arrival under the walls of Cordova, summoned the inhabitants to surrender. Confiding, however, in the strength of their fortifications and in the valor of some soldiers who had escaped from the massacre of Xeres, the Cordovans refused to obey the summons. When night arrived the Moorish general is said to have ordered 1,000 horsemen, each with a foot soldier behind, to swim over the Guadalquivir. The passage was no sooner effected than the infantry marched in profound silence to the walls, which they scaled with little difficulty, and having opened one of the gates, they admitted the cavalry, followed by another detachment from the enemy. The governor with 400 men fled to a church, in which they entrenched themselves, while the rest of the inhabitants submitted without opposition. They were treated with clemency, but the unfortunate governor and his party were put to 713 the sword. Malaga and Elvira also received Moorish garrisons, and the victor was thus at liberty to join his troops with those of Tarik under the walls of Toledo.

This opulent city had but few defenders: some of the nobles had fled; some had joined the banners of Theodomir in Murcia and Granada; others were too hopeless of success to dream of taking up arms. It was evident that an honorable capitulation only could save the place from the horrors consequent on a forcible entry. The conditions were accepted, hostages were given, and Tarik with a portion of his troops made a triumphant entry into Toledo. He took possession of the royal palace, in which, among other riches, he is said to have found twenty-five crowns of gold, corresponding with the number of Gothic kings from Alaric to Roderic.

At this period Muza arrived in Spain, breathing vengeance against the man who, by disobeying his commands, had reaped so rich a harvest of glory to his prejudice. Besides 18,000 men, he brought with him many noble Arabic chiefs. He laid siege to Seville, which he reduced in a month. Carmona and other neighboring cities shared the same fate. Thence he passed into Lusitania, and almost without halting in his rapid march seized on Libla, Ossonoba, Beja, and Mertola. Nothing obstructed his victorious passage until he arrived under the walls of the proud Merida.

The opposition which Muza encountered even in pitching his tents, as well as the formidable appearance of the works, convinced him that the reduction of Merida must be a work of difficulty and time. Before closely investing it he wrote to his son Abdelasis, whom he ordered to assemble as many troops as possible and to join him with them immediately. He soon found that he had not overrated the valor of the inhabitants. At length Abdelasis arrived with a reinforcement of 7,000 horse and a considerable number of Berbers, or Mohammedan natives of Barbary (the ancestors of the modern Moors), and enabled the emir to press the siege more vigorously. The inhabitants now began to despond; their numbers were alarmingly diminished, their provisions exhausted, and they had no hope of succor. They resolved to capitulate. The conditions which he imposed were honorable to both parties. The inhabitants were at liberty either to leave the city or to remain in undisturbed security; to be guaranteed in their religion, their persons, and substance. The treasures of the churches, however, he claimed, and 713-755 the property of such as had either fallen during the siege or fled to some other place. Among the hostages which were given on this occasion was Egilona, the widow of Roderic.

The career of Arabian conquest was now more rapid than ever: the Goths appear to have abandoned all intention of resistance. Tarik, with amazing rapidity, seized on Tortosa, Murviedro, Valencia, Xativa, and Denia. Muza, in his passage to the Pyrenees, took Huesca, Tarazona, Lerida, Calahorra, Tarragona, Barcelona, Gerona, and Ampurias. From Ampurias he appears to have directed his course into Galicia, and thence into Lusitania, indulging his ruling propensity by the acquisition of enormous wealth. His behavior in this respect was opposite to that of the equally valiant Tarik. The latter general always reserved the fifth part of the booty for the treasury of the caliph; the rest he is said to have generously abandoned to his officers and soldiers.

The inglorious reigns of Theodomir and his successor,—inglorious because enslaved,—need not be much noticed; indeed, they would afford little to interest the reader. Whether the death of Theodomir was natural or violent is unknown: we only read that in 743 he was succeeded by Athanagild. Of Athanagild we hear little more than that he was cruelly oppressed by a viceroy of his time; that on some frivolous pretext or other he was fined in a heavy sum, and that he would have been compelled to comply with the rapacious demand had not the Mohammedans themselves, especially the soldiers, interfered, and forced the viceroy not only to be more just, but even to indemnify the Christian prince for the persecution he had endured. The kingdom of Murcia ended about the year 755, after the arrival of Abderahman. The fate of Athanagild is unknown. Probably he betook himself, with many thousands of his subjects and fellow-Christians, to the Asturian mountains, when the victories of the new kingdom were borne on the wings of fame, and when the civil commotions of the misbelievers rendered it impossible for him to expect security or even life in the afflicted province which he had ruled.

Before, however, we proceed to relate the exploits of Pelayo who reigned at the same time, or the rise and decline of the Mohammedan empire in Spain, a separate chapter must be devoted to the political, civil, and religious condition of the people subject to the Gothic monarchy.

Chapter V

CONDITION OF THE PEOPLE UNDER THE GOTHS

When the northern barbarians, at the beginning of the fifth century, commenced their destructive irruptions into the Peninsula, the number of provinces was five, exclusive of Tingitana in Africa, and of the Balearic Isles,—Tarragona, Carthagena, Galicia, Lusitania, and Baetica. To these was soon added Narbonensian Gaul, called also Septimania, which, from its occupation by the Goths, was in the sequel denominated Landgothia, and at length Languedoc. The Balearic Isles, in 466, were seized by the Vandals, in whose possession they remained until Belisarius reduced them to the sway of Justinian. Tingitana also submitted to that renowned general; but in the seventh century we again find that province an appendage of the Visigothic crown. The period of its reconquest is unknown; but there is reason to believe that it was in the reign of Swintila, who had the glory of forever ending the Greek domination in the Peninsula. Hence the number of provinces was still seven. At one time, indeed, there were eight. Carpetania was divided into two: Contestania, of which the capital was the city of Carthagena, held by the imperialists; and Carpetania, which, with its capital Toledo, belonged to the Goths. From Swintila to the invasion of the Moors the two provinces were reunited, and Toledo, the royal residence, acknowledged not only as the capital of the whole province, but as the metropolis of the kingdom.

It must not, however, be forgotten that the metropolitan honor was enjoyed by Seville long before Toledo, apparently from the time of Constantine the Great. Amalaric was the first Visigothic king who established his court in Spain, and he naturally selected the former city as the seat of his government. Athanagild translated it to Toledo. The Suevi had also their capital, Braga in Galicia. Each of the seven provinces enumerated had the same local capital as during the dominion of the Romans. In fact, the geography of the whole country underwent little change, either in its divisions or its nomenclature, until some time after the descent of the Mohammedans.

The government of the Visigoths was, in appearance, an absolute monarchy; yet the power of the chief was so restrained in its exercise by the controlling influence of the prelates that it might, with equal propriety, be termed a theocracy. In the infancy of their office the Gothic kings were no less controlled by their nobles; they were, in fact, but primi inter pares; they had no royal descent, no hereditary honors, nor, indeed, much transmitted wealth, with which to captivate or influence their rude companions. Every fierce chieftain considered himself as good as his king, and might become one himself. As the dignity was originally military, and conferred on superior address and valor, so the same qualities might assuredly lead to the same success: the electors were, indeed, too barbarous to form any notion of other qualifications; the sword had opened them a way, from the very bosom of the north, to their fertile abodes of the south, and by it only could their dominion be preserved.

Soon after the establishment of the Visigothic monarchy at Toledo the power of the crown seems to have been bounded by two restrictions only: First, the king could not condemn without legal trial, without being guided by the provisions of the national code; but he had power to soften the rigor of severe justice; he could pass a more favorable sentence on, or entirely absolve, the delinquents brought before his tribunals. The second restriction related to the decrees of the king, which were received as binding during his life; but which had no force in perpetuity, unless sanctioned at the same time by the signatures of the bishops and barons in council assembled. In other respects he was unshackled. He could make war or peace at pleasure; he could issue proclamations which had the force of law, subject to the restriction just mentioned; he commanded in the field and presided in the court of justice.

In their social state, as exhibited in the Latin original of the Visigothic code, we cannot fail to be struck with the national pride of the Goths: they alone were styled nobiles, while the rest of the community were viliores. Under the latter humiliating term were included not merely servi and liberti, or slaves and freedmen, but even the ingenui, or free-born, whatever might be their wealth or consideration; and to preserve the privileged caste uncontaminated, marriages were rigorously forbidden between the victors and the vanquished, until Receswind abolished the prohibition. Again, the slave is forbidden to ally himself with a free family; and if even the freedman, however rich or respected, should aspire to the honor of an alliance with any female by whom he has been enfranchised, he must return to his former state of slavery. Not only was the slave who presumed to marry a free woman put to death, but the free woman who either married or sinned with a slave was burned at the stake with him. Again, the relative importance of the three classes, nobles, freedmen, and slaves, was carefully graduated by the laws. For the same crime a greater punishment was awarded to the second than the first, and to the third than the second. It must not, however, be supposed that society in the Peninsula consisted only of the three classes just named; if these constituted the great bulk of the population, and were separated from each other by barriers almost impassable, there were others necessarily generated by the state of that society whose lines of demarcation were less strongly drawn. For the most part these classes were the same with those of ancient Rome. There were nobles and plebeians, masters and slaves, patrons and freedmen: the nobles were divided into primates and seniores, corresponding with the ancient senatores and equites, and with the modern grandees and caballeros. Of slaves there were also various kinds, such as the idonei or boni, who appear not to have been much below our own domestic servants, except that their servitude in their master’s house was perpetual; and the viles, a term sufficiently indicative of their humiliating condition.

If from the civil we pass to the military state of the country, we shall find that the Goths were one vast nation of soldiers, the words soldier and man being considered almost as synonymous. The obligation of service was imperative on all freemen; nor were the sons of the king admitted to his table until they had made their essay in arms. Slaves were also admitted to join the levies, since every owner was required to take with him to the field one-tenth of the number he possessed. All Goths capable of bearing arms, whether lay or clerical, were subject to military duty; and heavy were the penalties with which he was visited who absented or hid himself to escape the conscription; if he were a noble filling some high employment, he was deposed and banished; if a common noble, he was beaten and branded; the officer who for a bribe excused any one from the service was compelled to pay four times the amount of the money he had received, besides a heavy fine to the king. The captain who forsook his post in time of war was beheaded; or, if he took sanctuary in a church, he was fined in six hundred crowns, to be divided among the soldiers of his company.

But in the present chapter the most extensive and by far the most interesting place must be assigned to the church of Spain.

The hierarchy of the Spanish church under the Goths differs in one or two important respects from that of the first four centuries. The pope was acknowledged as supreme head of the church; and metropolitan sees were formed which exercised an ecclesiastical jurisdiction over the suffragan bishops. The papal authority seems to have been exercised in four ways: 1st, in remitting the pall (pallium) to such metropolitans as he considered fit for the honor; 2d, in deciding on appeals from the ecclesiastical courts; 3d, in sending pontifical judges into Spain to decide for him, where the nature of the disputes which arose could be best ascertained by an eyewitness; 4th, in nominating legates to watch over the discipline of the national church. The cases, however, in which these prerogatives were exercised were extremely rare, probably through regard for the ancient independence of the Spanish bishops, who, during the first four centuries, were vehemently opposed to any appeal which involved the supremacy of the pope, and who, even when induced to acknowledge that supremacy, would not permit dispensations to be procured from Rome. So far were the Gothic prelates from acknowledging the infallibility of the pontiff that they more than once disputed his authority in points of faith.

In the ancient Spanish church the bishops were equal in dignity, and the most aged presided in the national councils. But during the domination of the Goths, metropolitans, possessing the jurisdiction though not the title of archbishops, occur. This novelty seems to have arisen from the practice of the popes addressing in their letters the prelates who held the capital sees of each province as metropolitans of that province. Towards the close of the fifth century we find one for every province, in conformity with the long-established usage of the universal church. The duties of this new dignitary were: 1st, to convoke provincial councils; 2d, to consecrate the suffragan bishops; 3d, to appoint some one suffragan to act in case of his absence; 4th, to hold a court for the decision in the first instance of disputes relating to ecclesiastical persons or affairs; 5th, to watch over the conduct of bishops and rectors of parishes.

Matrimony, the last of the sacraments mentioned in the Visigothic canons, was considered of unrivaled importance among a people so tenacious of their privileges and so jealous of the purity of their blood. As before observed, marriages between the victors and the vanquished were rigorously prohibited, until Receswind repealed the obnoxious law. The damsel could not give her hand to anyone unless he were not merely approved, but selected for her, by her parents; or if an orphan, by her natural guardians; and if she married contrary to their wishes, she not only forfeited all right to her share of her future property, but both she and her husband became slaves,—the slaves of the man for whom her relatives had intended her.

The laws concerning marriage, etc., may not improperly be added to this list of the Visigothic sacraments. Unlike the custom of modern times, the dowry was given by the bridegroom, not by the guardians of the bride, and was carefully preserved by them. It could not exceed one-tenth part of his substance; but at the expiration of a year from the marriage either party was at liberty to make any present, however valuable, to the other. Of this tenth the wife could claim no more than one-fourth; the rest was for the children, and, if none, it returned to her husband’s house. The impediments to matrimony were numerous. 1. The male was always to have the advantage of years over the female. 2. He or she who had been betrothed to anyone could not marry another before the expiration of two years; if this prohibition was disregarded, slavery was the doom of both. 3. He who forced a woman could not marry her. 4. If a Christian married a Hebrew, both were banished to different places. 5. The monastic orders, public or devotional penitents, virgins veiled and vowed, were naturally excluded from this sacrament; so also were kindred to the sixth degree. A married couple could at any time separate by mutual agreement; but they could not return to each other, much less remarry. It was only in case of adultery, or when the husband committed the most abominable of sins, or when he wished his wife to commit adultery, that the vinculum matrimonii was declared forever dissolved, and she was at liberty to marry another man. Adultery was reputed so enormous a crime among the Visigoths that the person who committed it became the slave of the injured partner.

Under the Goths, Spain was no more exempt from heresies than she had been under the Romans. The first is that of Nestorius, respecting the mysterious union of the divine and human natures in Christ; but it was speedily repressed. The Manicheans and Priscillianists were not more successful; both Arians and Catholics united in banishing them; extirpation was reserved for later times. After the accession of Recared, when the Catholic religion became the only one in Spain, severe penalties were decreed against all who presumed to differ from the established faith.

Under the Roman domination no monasteries were known in Spain; but widows and virgins, even in their father’s house, could consecrate themselves to God by vows of chastity, of abstaining from pleasure, and living retired from the bustle of the world. Under the Goths the same custom existed, but not to the same extent, as religious houses were established for the reception of such of either sex as resolved to escape from the temptations of life. Before the establishment of monasteries men who aspired to superior sanctity fled to the solitudes or deserts of the kingdom, where they alternately cultivated the ground, pored over books of devotion, and meditated on the example of preceding hermits. Their number was considerable until the beginning of the sixth century, when monasteries were first opened in Spain. The famous rule of St. Benedict is beyond doubt the most ancient ever used in Spain, but the precise period of its introduction cannot be ascertained: we know that it was in full vigor early in the seventh century.

Such religious houses in the early stage were distinguished alike for useful industry, for learning, for piety, and the exercise of the social virtues. And even at a later period,—when the monks from laymen were transformed into clergy, when allowed by their diocesans to build churches, to confess and preach, and consequently when unable to occupy themselves much in the cultivation of the ground,—it may be doubted whether they did not amply return to society the benefits they received from it. If they no longer lived by the labor of their hands, but on the endowments of the rich, they were active clergymen in their own immediate neighborhoods; they exercised hospitality without grudging; they fed the poor; they clothed the naked; they instructed the ignorant; they kept alive the lamp of knowledge, the rays of which, by their scholastic establishments (and they were the most usual instructors of youth), they distributed over a whole kingdom.

Under the Arian kings of the Suevi and the Visigoths (and this heresy continued ninety-six years in Galicia and one hundred and twenty-five in the rest of Spain), the Catholic faith can boast of few martyrs, but of numerous confessors. The latter were chiefly prelates who, on refusing to embrace the Arian doctrines, were dispossessed of their sees, driven into exile, or made to endure the greatest persecutions. Of the former none are sufficiently striking to deserve a place here. But the saints, who, whether confessors or allowed to pass their days in tranquillity, must not be wholly passed over in silence. Of these, one of the most famous was St. Aemilianus, or, as he is commonly named, St. Milan, who lived in the time of Leovigild, and whose actions and miracles were written by St. Braulio, bishop of Saragossa, in the following century.

Of theologians there are a much greater number, but their works either slumber in the dust of libraries—never, let us hope, to be disturbed!—or have perished. Out of the fifteen pompously enumerated by Masdeu, not more than two or three appear worthy of notice. St. Leander, the elder brother of St. Isidore, must occupy the first place. This extraordinary man—extraordinary rather for his actions than for his talents—soon arrived at the bishopric of Seville. Equally ambitious and stern, he led the van of the Catholic clergy in opposition to the established faith of the Arians.

But if the Goths, the Suevi, and the Vandals were no great admirers of civilization, if they held learning and the elegant arts of life in open contempt, they had many good qualities; they were devout, temperate, frugal, honest, sincere, and open-hearted. If any faith is to be had in the invectives of the priest of Marseilles, St. Salvianus, who lived at the time of the barbaric invasion, these Northern strangers by their virtues put to shame the conduct of the natives. Though this is doubtless declamation, we may readily believe that the Spanish character had been deplorably lowered by the corruptions of the Roman world, and that this corruption would be more manifest when contrasted with the austere virtues of the Northmen. The latter preserved their moral superiority so long as they lived isolated from the natives—so long as a difference of religion and the prohibition against intermarriages separated them from the subjugated people. But when first Recared, next Receswind, and still more the altered circumstances of the two nations, threw down the barriers which had separated them, the Goths began to acquire some of the vices of their Spanish brethren; their character rapidly declined from its original integrity; they became luxurious, effeminate, averse to the fatigues no less than the dangers of war, and consequently insensible of honor. That the depravity of manners under three or four monarchs immediately preceding the Mohammedan invasion was very great, notwithstanding the severity of laws and canons, is indisputable from the chroniclers of the times, who represent the destruction of the monarchy as the work of offended Heaven.

Chapter VI

DOMINION OF THE ARABS. 711-1031

Tarik and Muza, whose exploits have been already related, are usually ranked among the Mohammedan viceroys of Spain. The authority of the former naturally expired on the arrival of his superior; and when Muza at length obeyed the imperial summons to Damascus, Abdelasis, his son, became the lieutenant of the vicar of the prophet of God. The assassination of that prince in the mosque of Seville left the new conquests without a governor.

Dispatching Habib to the court of Damascus with the head of the unfortunate emir, the Arab sheiks assembled to invest one of their body with that high dignity. The virtues and wisdom of Ayub ben Habib, the nephew of Muza, commanded their unanimous suffrages. Nor did he prove unworthy of their choice. His justice, his mildness, his anxiety to receive and redress complaints, were gratefully witnessed by Mohammedans and Christians, especially by those of Toledo and Saragossa; and the erection of the fortress of Calat Ayub,^[7] near the site of the ancient Bibyllis, has also given perpetuity to his name. But Omar II., the successor of Suleyman, disdaining to recognize a governor not appointed by the sovereign authority of the caliph, and bearing, perhaps, much of his predecessor’s ill will to the family of Muza, deposed Ayub, and nominated Alhaur ben Abderahman to the viceregal dignity. The new governor, by his severity, or by his rigorous, unsparing justice, caused the people to regret the mild firmness of his predecessor. Not even the rich booty which he collected during an irruption into Gothic Gaul could, it is said, satisfy his rapacity, and he extorted heavy sums from the people.

In 721 A.D. Abderahman ben Abdalla was invested with the government of Spain, and the election was confirmed by the emir 721-732 of Africa. This celebrated emir commenced his second administration by punishing such local governors as had been guilty of injustice; by restoring to the Christians the property of which they had been deprived by Alhaitam,—thereby perfecting the work of the caliph’s envoy, and by distributing justice so impartially that the professors of neither faith could find reason to complain. But these cares, so honorable to his understanding and heart and in their effects so useful to his people, could not long divert him from the great design he had formed,—that of invading the whole of Gaul.

Just before the Mussulman army commenced its march, Othman, who still continued at his station in Gothic Gaul, very near to the Pyrenees, received orders to lay waste the province of Aquitaine. But Othman, or Manuza, was in no disposition to execute the order: he had seen with envy Abderahman preferred to himself, and his marriage with one of the daughters of Eudes, duke of Aquitaine, whom he passionately loved, rendered him more eager to cultivate the friendship than to incur the hostility of the Franks.

Abderahman now commenced his momentous march (732 A.D.) in the hopes of carrying the banner of the prophet to the very shores of the Baltic. His progress spread dismay throughout Europe; and well it might, for so formidable and destructive an armament Europe had not seen since the days of Attila. Conflagrations, ruins, the shrieks of violated chastity, and the groans of the dying rendered this memorable invasion more like the work of a demon than of a man. The flourishing towns of southern and central France, from Gascony to Burgundy and from the Garonne to the Loire, were soon transformed into smoking heaps. In vain did Eudes strive to arrest the overpowering torrent by disputing the passage of the Dordogne; his army was swept before it and he himself was compelled to become a suppliant to Charles, the mayor of the Franks. That celebrated hero, whose actions, administration, and numerous victories commanded the just admiration of the times, was no less anxious to become the savior of Christendom; but he knew too well the magnitude of the danger to meet it by premature efforts, and he silently collected in Belgium and in Germany the elements of resistance to the dreaded inundation. When his measures were taken, he boldly advanced at the head of his combined Franks, Belgians, Germans, etc., towards the enemy, who had just reduced Tours and who was soon drawn up to receive him in the extended 733-736 plain between that city and Poitiers. Neither captain was at first very willing to commence the combat: the Christian through a consciousness of his alarming inferiority in numbers, the Mussulman through an apprehension that his followers would be more intent on preserving their plunder than their reputation. But both felt that it was inevitable, and after six days’ skirmishing both advanced to the shock. The contest was long and bloody; the utmost valor was displayed by the two armies and the utmost ability by the two captains; but in the end the impenetrable ranks, robust frames, and iron hands of the Germans turned the fortune of the day: when darkness arrived, an immense number of Saracen bodies, among which was that of Abderahman himself, covered the plain. This far-famed victory, which was obtained in the year 733, spread consternation throughout the Mohammedan world. Fortunately for Christendom, the domestic quarrels of the Mussulmans themselves, the fierce struggles of their chiefs for the seat of the prophet, prevented them from universally arming to vindicate their faith and their martial reputation. This glorious event must be no less interesting to the lover of romance than the reader of history. The twelve peers of France and Britain, the renowned names of chivalry, the splendid creations of the Italian muse, owe their origin to this almost miraculous success of the Christians.

Abdelmelic ben Cotan was nominated by the African emir to succeed Abderahman, and was soon afterwards commanded by the caliph to revenge the late disasters of the Mohammedan arms; but such orders were more easily given than executed. The emir, indeed, passed the Pyrenees, but a complete panic seemed to have seized on his followers, who soon retreated, but were pursued and destroyed in the defiles of those mountains. He was superseded by Ocba ben Albegag, an officer who had acquired considerable celebrity in suppressing the revolts of the Mauritanians.

Scarcely had Ocba landed in Spain than the restless barbarians of Mauritania again revolted, defeated and slew their governor, who hastened to subdue them, and triumphed over a new emir, at the head of a powerful reinforcement from Egypt. Of this reinforcement the Syrians, under Thalaba ben Salema, and the Egyptians, under Baleg ben Bakir, were expelled from the country and induced to seek refuge in Spain. Their arrival boded no good to the tranquillity of the Peninsula. In vain did Abdelmelic desire them not to advance farther than Andalusia, but disregarding 736 this they marched on Toledo and Cordova, which they hoped to seize before the emir, who was then at Saragossa, could oppose them. By forced marches, however, Abdelmelic reached Toledo in time to save it; the assailants instantly raised the siege, and were pursued by his son, who cut off a considerable number in the retreat. Cordova also held out through the heroic resistance of Abderahman, son of the virtuous Ocba, who appears to have inherited the noble qualities of his sire.

But here the emir found the term of his success. The young Abderahman, listening only to his bravery, issued from the gates of Cordova and after an obstinate struggle was defeated by Baleg. Abdelmelic now tried negotiation in vain; the Africans invested him in his last hold, and the inhabitants, hoping to obtain favor by his destruction, tied him to a post on the bridge of Cordova, and opened their gates to Baleg. The unfortunate emir was speedily beheaded, and the inhuman victor tumultuously proclaimed the governor of the faithful.

Baleg did not long enjoy his usurped honors. Thalaba loudly asserted that the elevation of Baleg was illegal, since to the caliph alone belonged the right of nomination, and with his Syrians he retired towards Merida. At the same time the son of Ocba rallied the dispersed troops of the murdered Abdelmelic and marched against the usurper, thus critically weakened by the defection of Thalaba. The two armies met on the plains of Calatrava, midway between Cordova and Toledo. In the heat of the action the furious Baleg performed prodigies of valor. In the end justice triumphed; Baleg fell, pierced by the scimitar of Abderahman; the tyrant’s forces fled, and the victor was hailed by the honorable surname of Almansor. But this event did not bestow tranquillity to Spain. Thalaba, no less ferocious than his rival, still remained, and was closely investing Merida. Being joined by the remnant of Baleg’s troops, he soon forced the inhabitants to capitulate. Hence he returned to Cordova, where, in order to celebrate his success, he commanded the massacre of a thousand prisoners. But his thirst for blood was not to be gratified on this occasion. The approach of Husam ben Dhizar, surnamed Abulchatur, whom the caliph had sent to govern and tranquillize Spain, saved the destined victims, and Thalaba from his viceregal throne was removed to a dungeon in the fortress of Tangier.

Above forty years had now elapsed since the first descent of 755 the Mohammedans, and in the whole of that period there had been but few intervals of tranquillity, or even of individual security. So mutable had been the government that twenty different emirs had been called, or had raised themselves, to direct it. Jealousy, hatred, distrust of one another, open revolt, successful rebellions, forced submission, and a longing for revenge, with regard to the viceroys, had perpetually signalized the administration of the Arabs. The caliphs were too remote and too much occupied with nearer interests to apply a reasonable remedy to those evils; the governors of Almagreb had lost their delegated jurisdiction; yet, at this very time, when no sheik or wali would recognize a superior—when the Mohammedan society of the Peninsula was thus fearfully disorganized—the Christians of the Asturias were consolidating their infant power, and were naturally alive to every advantage that could be gained over the odious strangers. The sober-judging chiefs of the latter saw the danger of their situation, and resolved, if possible, to avert it. About eighty of them secretly assembled at Cordova, when, laying aside all private ambition, they consulted as to the means of ending the civil war. They decided to establish a monarchy and offer the crown to Abderahman.

The prince immediately accepted the proposal. “Noble deputies,” said he, “I will unite my destiny with yours; I will go and fight with you. I fear neither adversity nor the dangers of war; if I am young, misfortune, I hope, has proved me, and never yet found me wanting.” The youth of the whole tribe were eager to accompany him, but he selected seven hundred and fifty well-armed horsemen for this arduous expedition.

Abderahman landed on the coast of Andalusia in the early part of the year 755. The inhabitants of that province, sheiks and people, received him with open arms and made the air ring with their acclamations. His appearance, his station, his majestic mien, his open countenance, won upon the multitude even more perhaps than the prospect of the blessings which he was believed to have in store for them. His march to Seville was one continued triumph. Twenty thousand voices cheered his progress; twenty thousand scimitars, wielded by vigorous hands, were at his disposal. The surrounding towns immediately sent deputies with their submission and the offer of their services. Yussuf, the chief emir, was in consternation at this desertion of the people; and he was no less indignant that the sheiks, his former creatures, should 755 so readily surrender their fortresses to the stranger. He was, however, far from intimidated. One of his sons he intrusted with the defense of Cordova; another he placed over Valencia; a third he sent into Murcia, to maintain the Christian subjects of Athanagild in obedience; while he himself, with his friend Samail, flew from province to province to raise troops. The son of Yussuf attempted to impede the march of Abderahman on the capital; but he was defeated, and compelled precipitately to re-enter the city, which the conqueror invested. Hearing that Samail was advancing with 40,000 men to the relief of Cordova, the king left one-half of his army to prosecute the siege; while with the other half, consisting of no more than 10,000 horse, he advanced against the enemy, now joined by Yussuf. The disproportion of numbers in no way alarmed him, and on the day of battle he did not fail to raise the spirits of his followers by bold assurances, and promised them, before nightfall, a glorious victory over the army of Yussuf. That emir, from his superiority in force, was no less confident of success. Though he and Samail fought with intrepidity, they had to oppose one more intrepid than themselves,—one who rushed wherever the danger was greatest, and who at length forced both to seek safety in flight, the former in the west, the other in Murcia. Cordova capitulated with the victor: a great number of other cities voluntarily surrendered. But two victories had not decided the fate of this martial country. Yussuf quickly repaired his losses, and with another army appeared on the field, though with diminished hopes. After some maneuvering the two enemies again encountered each other near Almuñecar. Yussuf and Samail fought for life, Abderahman for empire. The emir sustained a third defeat, more fatal than either of the two preceding: he and Samail were pursued to the rugged rocks that skirt the boundary of Elvira. Perceiving that longer resistance would be useless, the latter induced the emir, with much difficulty, to allow negotiations for peace. The king readily granted an amnesty and oblivion for the past on the condition that within a given time the fortresses which still held out should be surrendered.

Abderahman had thus, in the short space of a year, triumphed over enemies formidable alike from their valor and numbers. His satisfaction was not a little increased by the birth of a son, whom he called Hixem, after his ancestors of that name. The peace which his arms had won allowed him leisure for the improvement 758 of his capital. By stupendous embankments he narrowed the bed of the Guadalquivir; and the space thus rescued from the waters he transformed into extensive gardens, in the center of which a tower arose commanding a vast prospect. He is said to have been the first who transplanted the palm into the congenial climate of Spain; and by the Arabic poets of that country much credit is given him for verses written while contemplating that graceful tree.

From such occupations the king was summoned by more active cares. The arrival of some illustrious Saracens, partisans of his house, and therefore obnoxious to Abul Abbas, whom he had specially invited, strengthened his hands. Them he appointed to honorable posts; as also Samail, because the latter had inclined the emir to sue for peace. But Yussuf regretted his former power: and that regret was not diminished on finding that many sheiks were still attached, if not to his person, at least to his government, under which they had enjoyed more impunity than they could ever expect under the firmer administration of a king. Besides, the usual passions of our nature—mortification at being overlooked in the distribution of court favors; jealousy, and even hatred, of the more successful—would induce not a few in behalf of any change which promised to favor their ambition. Yussuf now took advantage of this state of peace; he conspired with his old supporters; lamented that he had given up Elvira and Granada, but resolved to retain possession of the fortresses he still held. He next raised troops and seized on the fort of Almodovar. Abdelmelic, governor of Seville, was sent by the king in 758 to crush the rebellion. After a series of unsuccessful maneuvers, Yussuf, whose preparations were not yet completed, fell in a battle near Lorca, and his head was sent by the victorious general to the king. According to the barbarous custom of the times, it was suspended from an iron hook over one of the public gates of Cordova.

During the succeeding four years one insurrection only, and that of no moment, disturbed the repose of Abderahman. But he was now menaced by an enemy more powerful than any which had yet assailed him, and one of the last perhaps he would ever have dreamed of opposing. This was no other than Charlemagne, who poured his legions over the Pyrenees into the valleys of Catalonia. The motives which brought this emperor into Spain have been matter of much dispute between the historians of the two countries. 777 Indeed, it is not easy to say what occasioned Charlemagne’s extraordinary irruption into Navarre and Catalonia. The Arabian writers mention the fact, but they are evidently ignorant of the cause, so that all the information that can be found on the subject must be sought among the Christian historians.

The life of Charlemagne, by his own secretary, Einhard or Eginhard, and other contemporary authorities prove beyond doubt that (probably in 777) an embassy arrived at the court of Charles requesting his aid for the viceroy of Catalonia against the Mohammedans, and offering him in the event of success the feudal supremacy. By whom that embassy was sent is not very clear, but apparently it was dispatched by one Ben Alarabi of Saragossa. What is undoubted is that the offer was accepted, and that a powerful army, in two columns, passed the Pyrenees. The glory of humbling the Mohammedan faith in Spain would doubtless have much weight with this Christian emperor, but from his subsequent acts we may be excused for suspecting that policy, and even ambition, had as much influence over him as the interests of religion. He himself headed the division which passed into Navarre through Gascony, and his first conquest was the Christian city of Pampeluna. The walls he leveled with the ground, and thence proceeded to Saragossa to effect a junction with the other divisions of his army, which had marched by way of Roussillon. That city quickly owned his supremacy, and so also, we are told, did Gerona, Huesca, and Barcelona, the government of which he confided to the sheiks who had invited him into the Peninsula and had aided him with their influence. If the testimony of Eginhard be admissible, the whole country, from the Iberus to the Pyrenees, in like manner owned his authority. How far he might have carried his arms had not the revolt of the Saxons summoned him to a more urgent scene, it would be useless to conjecture, but that he meditated the subjugation of the Peninsula,—of the portions held by the Christians, as well as those subject to the misbelievers,—may be reasonably inferred both from his immense preparations and from the admission of the most ancient historians of that period. The inaction of Abderahman shows plainly enough that he was unable to cope with the imperial forces; but the result of this expedition must be acknowledged as inglorious to Charlemagne. Scarcely had that monarch passed the Pyrenees when Abderahman recovered Saragossa and the other places which had 787 yielded and Abderahman was freed from the formidable invader, though still subject to the curse of domestic sedition.

Towards the close of his reign Abderahman convoked at Cordova the walis of the six great provinces, Toledo, Merida, Saragossa, Valencia, Granada, and Murcia; the walis of the twelve cities next in importance, with the wazirs of both, and his chief counselors, for the purpose of naming his successor. As had been long anticipated, his choice fell on Hixem, the youngest and best beloved of his sons, who received the homage of the assembled chiefs. Solyman and Abdalla, who were present at the ceremony, showed no discontent—doubtless because they dared not—at this preference of a younger brother.

Abderahman died in 787. The chief features of his character were honor, generosity, and intrepidity, with a deeply rooted regard for the interests of justice and religion. His views for a Mussulman were enlightened, and his sentiments liberal. Misfortune had been his schoolmaster, and he profited by its lessons. He was an encourager of literature, as appears from the number of schools he founded and endowed; of poetry, in particular, he must have been fond or he would not have cultivated it himself. In short, his highest praise is the fact that Mohammedan Spain wanted a hero and legislator to lay the first stone of her prosperity, and that she found both in him.

Hixem ben Abderahman, surnamed Alhadi Rhadi, the Just and the Good, was immediately proclaimed at Merida, whither he had accompanied his dying father, and his elevation was hailed by the acclamations of all Spain. His mildness of manner, his love of justice, his liberal and enlightened views afforded his people good ground to hope for a happy reign. But its commencement did not correspond with the general wish, though that commencement could scarcely be unexpected. Both his brothers revolted, notwithstanding the anxiety of the king to live with them on terms of fraternal affection.

The success with which Hixem had crushed these formidable insurrections roused within him the latent sparks of ambition; he now aspired to conquests not only in the Asturias, but in Gothic Gaul. He proclaimed the Algihed, or Holy War, which every Mussulman was bound to aid, if young, by personal service, if rich and advanced in years, by the contribution of horses, arms, or money. Two formidable armies were immediately put in motion; 798-808 one 39,000 strong, which was headed by the hagib or prime minister, marched into the Asturias; the other, which was still more numerous, was under the orders of Abdalla ben Abdelmelic, advanced towards the Pryenees.

His ill or, at most, very partial success seems to have damped the ambition of Hixem. He now applied himself exclusively to the arts of peace,—to the encouragement of science, of religion, and of learning, and to the welfare of his people. In the seventh year of his reign he caused his son Alhakem to be recognized as his successor, and died in a few months afterwards (in 796), universally lamented by his subjects.

The reign of Alhakem was one of extreme agitation. No sooner were his uncles acquainted with the death of the able and virtuous Hixem than they resolved to assert their rights of primogeniture. Without difficulty Abdalla seized on Toledo, while Solyman, from his residence at Tangier, caused his gold to be lavishly distributed among such chiefs as he knew were friendly to his cause. Toledo was immediately invested, but as the king suddenly departed for Catalonia, to recover some conquests made by the Franks, the siege was prosecuted with little vigor. On his triumphant return, however, and on his obtaining a signal victory over his rebel uncles, the place capitulated to his general, Amru. After this defeat Solyman and Abdalla retreated through the mountains to Valencia. They were pursued by the king, who again triumphed over them, and more signally than before, Solyman being left dead on the field.

During this revolt, as just stated, the Franks, after reducing Narbonne, invaded Catalonia. They were invited by some Moorish rebels, who sighed after independence, or at most a nominal dependence on the emperor. The wars which followed were to both parties diversified in success, and were frequently suspended by mutual agreement.

While these transactions were passing in Catalonia, Alfonso the Chaste, king of the Asturias, was eager to profit by the division in his favor. To punish his revolt in 801, Alhakem ascended the Ebro from Saragossa and ravaged his eastern territories. In 808 Alfonso crossed the Duero, invaded Lusitania, and took Lisbon. Alhakem hastened to the theater of war and obtained some successes, but as Alfonso probably retired before him, and as the operations became tedious and indecisive, he at length returned to his capital, 821-850 leaving the command of the army to Abdalla ben Malchi and Abdalkerim. This was the time for the Christian king to assume the offensive: he gained first a signal victory over Abdalla in Galicia, who fell on the field, and next over the other general, whom he routed in like manner, and whom in a second action he not only defeated, but slew. Abderahman now advanced, defeated Alfonso on the banks of the Duero, took Zamora, and compelled that king to sue for peace.

Internally the reign of Alhakem was no less troubled. Scarcely was the rebellion of his uncles repressed when the tyranny of Yussuf ben Amru occasioned great disorders in Toledo.

About the same time a conspiracy was formed in Cordova itself, the object of which was to assassinate Alhakem and to raise a grandson of the first Abderahman to the vacant throne. The fatal secret was revealed to the monarch’s private ear by one of the sons and hostages of his uncle Abdalla, whose fortunes it was intended to raise. The very day on which this tragedy was to be perpetrated three hundred gory heads were exhibited in the most public part of Cordova. Had his own been there, instead of them, no public sorrow would have been manifested. His severity, we may add, his cruelty, and still more, perhaps, his recent treaty with Alfonso, rendered him no favorite with the people.

From this moment Alhakem, who acquired the surname of the Cruel, was torn by incessant remorse. His imagination was continually haunted by the specters of his murdered people. Solitude was intolerable and sleep almost impossible. In 821 the tyrant breathed his last.

Abderahman II. had long made himself beloved, both in a private capacity and as the deputy of his father: happiness was as much hoped from his reign, and as much was it alloyed by many misfortunes. The first was the hostile arrival of his great uncle, Abdalla, son of Abderahman I., who, though on the verge of the tomb, resolved to strike another blow for empire. With his treasures this restless old man had raised troops, and caused himself to be proclaimed king. He was speedily defeated by his active kinsman, and was pursued to Valencia, within the walls of which he took shelter.

In his transactions with the Christians of the Asturias and Catalonia Abderahman was more fortunate than his two predecessors. Barcelona was recovered by the Mohammedan forces; and the influence of the Franks was still farther weakened by the revolt of 850-859 Aizo, one of their counts. Three armies of Franks successively appeared in Spain, but effected nothing; while a Mohammedan fleet burned the suburbs of Marseilles. In fact, most of the petty sovereignties which France had founded were either subject to the Moors or were aiming at independence.

In 850 Abderahman caused his son Mohammed to be acknowledged wali alhadi. In 852 he died, universally lamented by his people. The reign of Mohammed I. contains little to strike the attention. He was always at war, either with the Asturians or his own subjects. Ramiro, Ordoño, and Alfonso III. successively defeated his best troops and gradually enlarged their dominions. Not that no victories were gained by him or his generals. Two are especially named, one in Navarre, the other in Alva; but they were without result, while those of the Christians were generally followed by the reduction of some town or fortress. Alfonso amplified the Christian states nearly one-half: to Galicia and the Asturias he added the rest of Leon, Old Castile, Estremadura, and a considerable portion of Lusitania. To account for this increased success we must take into consideration the increased strength of the Christian monarchs, who were acknowledged lords paramount over Castile and Navarre,^[8] and the weakness of the kingdom of Cordova, occasioned by its internal dissensions.

Mohammed was ultimately more successful in his contests with his subjects than with his natural enemies. Of the difficulty, however, with which this success was obtained, Muza ben Zeyad, the wali of Saragossa, and Omar, a bandit chief, afford us abundant proof. Muza and his son, who was wali of Toledo, withstood a siege of five or six years within that ancient Christian capital, and when it was compelled to capitulate (in 859) they contrived to effect their escape. Mohammed now advanced to chastise the daring rebel. Omar, seeing that open resistance would be unavailing, had recourse to cunning. By his messengers he persuaded the king that his only object in arming was to fall on the Christians, his allies, that he was still a true professor of Islam, and loyal to his legitimate ruler. Mohammed praised him for his policy, promised to reward him with a good government, and actually sent his nephew, Zeid ben Cassim, with a body of Valencian cavalry to strengthen Omar. The prince and his followers were received with respect, 859-888 but were assassinated the very night of their reaching the camp of their treacherous allies. Mohammed swore to be revenged, and ordered his valiant son Almondhir with the chief force of his kingdom to crush the perfidious outlaw. Omar escaped into the Pyrenees, exhorting his remaining followers to submit, but promising that if his life were spared he would again be in the field with a new army. He kept his word. He offered his services to the Navarrese, gained them many fortresses, and received from them the title of king. He defeated the united forces of the wali of Saragossa and the alcaid of Huesca, and conquered the whole country as far as the Ebro. This time the king in person, with his son Almondhir and his best officers, hastened to the field. Omar endeavored to avoid an open engagement, but was forced to defend himself, and was defeated and slain.

If to these agitating scenes we add a drought of a year’s duration, the third which had visited Spain within the short period of twenty years; an earthquake which swallowed several towns, and another invasion of the Normans, who ruined the places on the coast of Andalusia and plundered the superb mosque of Algeziras, some idea may be formed of the disasters of this reign.

The death of Mohammed was sudden. One summer evening he was seated in his garden, conversing with several of his ministers and servants. “How happy is the condition of kings!” exclaimed Hixem ben Abdelasis, the courtly wali of Jaen; “for them the pleasures of life are expressly made.” “The path of kings,” replied the more experienced monarch, “is indeed, in appearance, strewed with flowers; but thou seest not that these roses have their thorns.” While uttering these commonplace truths,—and little above commonplace observation is to be found in the whole range of Mohammedan wisdom,—he little thought his own term was so near. He retired to rest, but awoke no more on earth.

Almondhir, who in his father’s lifetime had been declared wali alhadi, ascended the throne with the prospects of a happy reign, but these prospects were soon to be blasted, for in the second year of his reign he fell in battle with the formidable Calib ben Omar.

The reign of Abdalla, the brother and successor of Almondhir, was destined to be as troubled as any of his predecessors. One of the first revolts was headed by his eldest son Mohammed, who was dissatisfied, first with the restoration of the sons of Hixem, his 888-918 personal enemies, to the favor of the king, and next, perhaps, with his own dependent situation. He was joined by his brother Alkassim and by the chief walis of Andalusia. After various alternations of fortune he was defeated by his younger brother Abderahman, was severely wounded in the battle, and was consigned to a dungeon by the victor, until the king’s pleasure could be known. There he died, whether in consequence of his wounds or by violence is uncertain. Alkassim was pardoned, but ere long he engaged in another rebellion and lost his liberty.

Abdalla died in 912, leaving behind him the character of a mild, just, and enlightened ruler.

On the death of Abdalla the throne of Mohammedan Spain was filled by Abderahman III., son of the rebel prince Mohammed who had so mysteriously died in prison, and, therefore, grandson of Abdalla. Why the deceased king did not procure the elevation of his own son Abderahman, surnamed Almudafar, or the Victorious, surprised many, but grieved none. Though Almudafar was a hero and had even been the firmest support of the throne, his disposition was stern and his heart unrelenting; while the young Abderahman, from his mildness of manner, his generosity, and his astonishing progress in learning, was the universal favorite of the nation. All testified unfeigned joy when Abdalla, from his bed of death, set aside the dark and gloomy Almudafar from the succession and caused the hopeful Abderahman to be acknowledged as wali alhadi.

The pacification of his kingdom allowed Abderahman leisure to dream of ambition, which opportunity seasonably aided. Yahia ben Edris, the eighth sovereign of Fez, besieged in his capital by Obeidala, the first caliph of the Fatimites, could escape subjugation only by the offer of all his treasures and by renouncing his independence. But this inglorious security was of short duration: the emir of Mequinez, Aben Alafia, entered his capital, and compelled him to flee. But the most memorable of the warlike exploits of this king were against the Christians of Leon and the Asturias. Soon after the accession of Abderahman, Ordoño II. invaded the Mohammedan possessions, and, if any faith is to be had in the chroniclers of his nation, he ruined Talavera, and obtained many other advantages, of which, however, not the slightest mention is made by the Mohammedan writers.

In his internal administration Abderahman was distinguished 912-961 for great capacity of mind, for unbounded liberality, for unrivaled magnificence, and for inflexible justice. The foundation of the palace and town of Medina-Azhara, about two leagues from Cordova,—the former distinguished for all the splendor of art and wealth, the latter for a mosque which rivaled that of Cordova,—attested his taste and luxury.

The years of Abderahman III., from 912 to 961, are called the most brilliant period in the history of the Spanish Arabs. That commerce flourished, and riches were accumulated in an unexampled degree; that a powerful navy was formed and maintained in full activity; that the arts and sciences were cultivated with ardor, because their professors were rewarded with princely liberality; that many splendid public works were undertaken in the principal towns of Mohammedan Spain; that the king was the friend of industry, of merit, and of poverty; that his fame was so widely diffused as to bring even rich embassies from Constantinople;—are undoubted and indisputed facts. But if this reign was the most magnificent, was it also the most powerful era of Arabian domination? Nearly one-half of it was spent in subduing rebels, who set that power at open defiance; and if the Christians made no new conquests, they suffered none to be taken from them. The military force of the kingdom was as great, and that kingdom itself much more extended, in the reign of Abderahman I., who will scarcely suffer by a comparison 965-1002 with his more renowned successor in any of the qualities necessary to form a great monarch. But each, though sometimes in a different way, sought the prosperity of the country, and each had reason to exult in his success.

Alhakem II., the son and successor of Abderahman, inherited all the great qualities of his father. He was, however, averse to war, fond of tranquillity, and immoderately attached to literature. His agents were constantly employed in the East in purchasing scarce and curious books: he himself wrote to every author of reputation for a copy of that author’s works, for which he paid royally; and wherever he could not purchase a book, he caused it to be transcribed. By this means he collected an extensive library, the unfinished catalogue of which, in the time of Aben Hayan, reached forty-four volumes. His reign is the golden age of Arabian literature in Spain.

As Hixem II., the son and successor of Alhakem, was but eleven years old when he ascended the throne, the regency was conferred by the queen-mother on her secretary, Mohammed ben Abdalla, a man of great genius, valor, and activity. Mohammed, better known as Almansor, may, in fact, be regarded as the king, for he alone throughout life governed the realm. Hixem was too feeble, too despicable, too much addicted to slothful pleasures, to command even the passing notice of the people. The wars of Almansor with the Christians, which proved so fatal to them, occupy the most prominent part of the administration. In the year 1001 the Mohammedan army, in two formidable bodies, ascended the Duero and encountered the Christians in the vicinity of Calat Añosor, a place between Soria and Medina Coeli. That the loss on both sides was immense may well be conceived from the desperate valor of the two armies. If Almansor by his frequent and impetuous assaults broke the adverse line, it was soon reformed, and the next moment saw the Christians in the very heart of the infidels.

Almansor died August 14, 1002. He was formed for a great sovereign. He was not only the most able of generals and the most valiant of soldiers, but he was an enlightened statesman, an active governor, an encourager of science and the arts, and a magnificent rewarder of merit. His loss was fatal to Cordova. In limited monarchies, where the empire of the laws is supreme, and where the higher dignities may be attained by the meritorious, however humble in their condition of life, the chasm occasioned 1006-1009 by the loss of such a man is filled up by a suitable successor; but in a despotic state, where the person is everything and the laws nothing, and where, as there are no certain rewards for merit, merit will seldom be found, the removal of the guiding hand of an able ruler may precipitate the whole machine into the gulf of ruin. The Cordovans, and, indeed, the whole Mussulman population of Spain, seem to have been seized with just apprehensions for the fate of the monarchy. Their hero and father was no more, and his loss was little likely to be repaired under so imbecile and despicable a ruler as Hixem. The national sorrow, indeed, was mitigated for a moment by the appointment of Abdelmelic, his son, to the vacant post of hagib. This minister promised to tread in the steps of his illustrious father: his administration both in Africa and Spain was signalized by great spirit and valor. On his return from one of his predatory inroads—for such were his expeditions—into Estremadura, he was seized with excruciating pains—the effect, probably, of poison, and died in 1006, in the seventh year of his administration. With him ended the prosperity of Mohammedan Spain.

Abderahman, the brother of Abdelmelic, was next advanced to the post of hagib. Vain, thoughtless, and dissipated, his kindred qualities made him dear to the worthless Hixem who made him his successor; but the race of the Omeyas was not extinct, and Mohammed, a prince of that house, hastened to the frontier, collected partisans, and returned to Andalusia. Abderahman, who was not deficient in courage and whose pretensions had gained him many adherents, left Cordova, to crush the dangerous rebellion. But Mohammed was too wily for the minister. Hearing that the capital was left undefended, he divided his forces into two bodies, left one to oppose Abderahman, while with the other he rapidly marched on the city, forcibly seized on the palace and king, and proclaimed the deposition of the hagib. The latter furiously hastened to Cordova, and attempted to enter the town in opposition to the entreaties of his officers; but his entry was disputed not only by the troops of Mohammed, but by the fickle mob, who to-day characteristically joined in breaking the idol they had worshiped yesterday. He endeavored to retreat, but in vain. He was speedily surrounded, was wounded, taken, and crucified by the barbarous victor on the 18th day of Jumadi I., A.H. 399.^[9]

Mohammed was appointed hagib, but aspiring to be king, 1012-1015 secretly imprisoned Hixem, announced his death, and proclaimed his own succession. But the dangerous example which he himself had set of successful rebellion was too attractive not to be followed, and his own acts hastened the invitation. Incensed against the African guard which had supported the factions of Abderahman, he dissolved that formidable body, and ordered them to be expelled the city. They naturally resisted, but with the aid of the populace he at length forced them beyond the walls, and threw them the head of their chief. The exasperated Africans swore to be revenged, and proclaimed Solyman, or Suleiman, of the royal blood of the Omeyas, the successor of Hixem.

Solyman began his reign—for so long as Hixem lived he cannot be properly ranked among the kings of Cordova—by rewarding his adherents in the most lavish manner. He confirmed them, as he had promised, in the hereditary possession of their fiefs, thus engrafting on a strangely foreign stock the feudal institution of more northern nations. This was the signal for the creation of numerous independent sovereignties, and consequently for the ruin of Mohammedan Spain.

The hagib Hairan, who had escaped to his government of Almeria, swore to be revenged on this new usurper. As, however, no forces which he could bring into the field could contend for a moment with those of Solyman, he passed over to Ceuta, to interest the governor, Ali ben Hamad, in his project. He represented to that wali the odium in which the usurper was held by the Mohammedans, intimated his belief that Hixem yet lived, and urged Ali to arm in favor of suffering royalty. The latter swore to avenge his injured monarch, and with his brother Alcassim he commenced hostilities in Andalusia. After some rapid successes they and Hairan were met by Solyman in the environs of Almuñecar. Seeing their numbers, and perhaps distrusting the fidelity of his troops, the king endeavored to avoid a general action, but being forced by Ali into an unfavorable position, he was compelled to fight. The contest was indecisive; nor in the desultory twelve-months’ warfare which followed could either boast of much advantage. In the end, however, Solyman was forsaken by most of the walis, his allies—they can no longer be called subjects; his troops deserted to swell the ranks of his enemy, and in a battle near Seville his Andalusian adherents turned against him, and thereby decided his fate. He perished by the hands of the victor in 1015.

By his followers Ali was proclaimed king of Mohammedan Spain, but not until search had been vainly made for Hixem. The1018-1023 crown was not destined to sit more lightly on his head than on that of his immediate predecessor. The walis of Seville, Merida, Toledo, and Saragossa did not condescend to answer the letters announcing his succession; and even Hairan, who had zealously labored for his elevation, forsook him. This restless man, intent on breaking the work of his own hands, joined the disaffected walis; called all the faithful to arms, to restore some one of the immediate descendants of the great Abderahman. The multitude began to feel some affection for their ancient kings, or rather to contrast the advantages once possessed under their scepter, with the anarchy, the desolation, and the misery of the present condition. The wali of Jaen, Abderahman Almortadi, was proclaimed king in that city, and measures were taken to depose the reigning usurper. For some time, indeed, these measures were vain; Hairan was thrice defeated, and, on the last occasion, beheaded by Ali. The victor returned triumphant to Cordova, but he found an enemy where he least expected one; he was stifled in the bath by his Slavonic attendants, and the report circulated that his death was natural.

If the murderers of Ali committed the deed at the instigation of the walis in the interests of Abderahman, their object was not gained, for Alcassim ben Hamud, brother of the deceased king, seized on the throne. Alcassim, on his entrance into Cordova, was welcomed by none of the inhabitants, who justly dreaded his vindictive character. While wreaking his vengeance, as before, on such as he even suspected, a powerful conspiracy was silently formed to dethrone him. When this intelligence was known at Cordova, the Almeris, or party of the family of the great Almansor, which acted a conspicuous part in all these commotions and which adhered to the fortunes of the Omeyas, proclaimed as king Abderahman ben Hixem, brother of the usurper Mohammed.

Abderahman V. (the IVth was the sovereign of Jaen, Abderahman Almortadi, of whom little is known) had virtues worthy of any throne, but in an age so licentious as his they could not fail to hasten his ruin. His first object was to reform his guards, whose disorders had long been unrepressed, and whose worst atrocities none of his immediate predecessors dared to punish. They became discontented and mutinous. Mohammed ben Abderahman, cousin of the king, a man of boundless wealth, fomented their dissatisfaction: 1023-1026 he succeeded, too, in corrupting the chief nobles of the city. In the silence of night he armed a resolute band of his creatures, who hastened to the palace and massacred the soldiers on duty. The king awoke, but before he had time to escape his bedchamber was entered, and he was pierced with a thousand wounds, after a reign of only forty-seven days. The conspirators, displaying their bloody poniards, tumultuously ran along the streets of Cordova and proclaimed their employer.

While Mohammed II. thus reaped the reward of his crime, Yahia, who had received the expected aid from Africa, resumed his activity. He besieged Xeres and took his uncle, whom he threw into prison. Meanwhile Mohammed II. imposed contributions on the inhabitants of the capital: in return, the mob demanded a certain number of heads, and concluded by threatening both him and his hagib. In a panic of fear he made a final adieu to the delicious abode of Azhara, and with his family reached the province of Toledo. By the Alcaid of Ucles he was received with much outward respect, but in a few days poison ended his guilty life, after a despicable reign of seventeen months.

No sooner was Yahia acquainted with the flight of Mohammed than he received a deputation from the inhabitants of Cordova, who offered him the vacant throne. He testified some, probably seeming, reluctance to accept it; but the eagerness with which the people of that capital welcomed his approach made him anticipate a more peaceful reign than had fallen to the lot of his late predecessors. He was soon undeceived: several walis refused to do homage; the wali of Seville openly insulted his authority. This powerful and ambitious governor, by name Mohammed, heard without apprehension that the king was marching to punish him. He drew Yahia into an ambuscade in the vicinity of Ronda, where the latter, after a desperate struggle, perished on the seventh day of the moon Muharram, A.H. 417.^[10]

The next prince on whom the choice of the Cordovans fell, Hixem III., brother of Abderahman Almortadi, was naturally loath to accept a crown which had destroyed so many of its wearers. Besides, he was unaffectedly attached to private life. In the end, however, forced rather than persuaded to relinquish his scruples, he left his retirement. Knowing the inconstancy of the populace—the real sovereign of the state—he proceeded, not to 1031-1238 Cordova, but to the frontiers, to repel an invasion of the Christians. It was, indeed, time to oppose an enemy which, during the recent troubles, had reduced a considerable portion of Lusitania and much even of New Castile. The kings of Leon and Navarre, and the count of Barcelona, seemed by tacit compact to have suspended their own animosities and resolved to share the spoils of their falling rival. Hixem might for a time reduce the Leonese to inaction, but he could scarcely hope to obtain any decided success; and we accordingly hear nothing of his exploits during the three years he remained on the frontiers. At the end of that time the murmurs of his subjects, who insisted on seeing their king, compelled him to visit Cordova. He was received by the giddy populace with the accustomed shouts of applause. But the walis resisted his authority. To reduce them to obedience he took the field, but though he was at first victorious, he soon found they were too powerful for him, and he was compelled to treat with open rebels. Unhappily, he had but too much reason to find that neither private virtues nor public services have much influence over the bulk of mankind, and that the absolute king who has not the power to make himself feared will not long be suffered to reign. During the night of the 12th day of Dilcagiad, A.H. 422,^[11] a licentious mob paraded the streets of Cordova and loudly demanded his deposition. He did not wait the effects of their violence: with unfeigned satisfaction he retired to private life, in which he passed unmolested the remainder of his days. The remembrance of his virtues long survived him, and by all the Arabic writers of his country he is represented as too good for his age.

With Hixem III. ended the caliphat of the West and the noble race of Omeya. If the succession was interrupted by Ali, and Alcassim, and Yahia, who, though descended from a kindred stock, were not of the same family, that interruption was but momentary, especially as Abderahman IV. reigned at Jaen, while the two last princes were acknowledged at Cordova. From this period (A.D. 1031) to the establishment of the kingdom of Granada in A.D. 1238 there was no supreme chief of Mohammedan Spain, if we except the fleeting conquerors who arrived from Africa and the fabric of whose dominion was as suddenly destroyed as it was erected. The portion of the country free from the progressive approaches of the Christian sovereignty was to be governed by 1031-1238 independent petty kings, whose reigns occupy the first portion of the ensuing chapter.

Vicious as is the constitution of all Mohammedan governments, and destructible as are the bases on which they are founded, the reader cannot fail to have been struck with the fate of this great kingdom. It can scarcely be said to have declined; it fell at once. Not thirty years have elapsed since the great Almansor wielded the resources of Africa and Spain and threatened the entire destruction of the Christians, whom he had driven into an obscure corner of this vast peninsula. Now Africa is lost; the Christians hold two-thirds of the country; the petty but independent governors, the boldest of whom trembled at the name of Almansor, openly insult the ruler of Cordova, whose authority extends little further than the walls of his capital. Assuredly, so astounding a catastrophe has no parallel in all history. Other kingdoms, indeed, as powerful as Cordova have been as speedily, perhaps, deprived of their independence; but if they have been subdued by invading enemies, their resources, their vigor, to a certain extent their greatness, have long survived their loss of that blessing. Cordova, in the very fullness of her strength, was torn to pieces by her turbulent children.

Chapter VII

DOMINION OF THE AFRICANS. 1031-1238

The decline and dissolution of the Mohammedan monarchy, or Western caliphat, afforded the ambitious local governors throughout the Peninsula the opportunity for which they had long sighed,—that of openly asserting their independence of Cordova and of assuming the title of kings. The wali of Seville, Mohammed ben Ismail ben Abid, whose victory over Yahia has been already recorded, appears to have been the first to assume the powers of royalty; and he showed that he knew how to use them with as much impunity as sovereigns of more sounding pretensions: without condescending to inquire whether the throne of Cordova was filled or vacant, he declared war against the self-elected king of Carmona, Mohammed ben Abdalla, on whose cities, Carmona and Ecija, he had cast a covetous eye.

But Cordova, however weakened, was not willing thus suddenly to lose her hold on her ancient subjects: she resolved to elect a sovereign who should endeavor to subdue these audacious rebels and restore her ancient splendor. The disasters which had accompanied the last reigns of the Omeyan princes had strongly indisposed the people to the claims of that illustrious house. After a deliberation proportioned to the magnitude of the interests involved, the inhabitants threw their eyes on Gehwar ben Mohammed, a chief of great prudence and of considerable enterprise, who was persuaded to undertake the arduous duties of government. But Gehwar had seen too much of popular inconstancy to incur the same fatal responsibility as his immediate predecessors. To diminish the odium invariably attached to failure, he surrounded himself by a council which comprised some of the most distinguished citizens, and without the advice of which he undertook no one thing, not even the nomination to public offices. Of that council he was but the president, possessing but one vote like the remaining members; so that Cordova presented the appearance rather of a republic than of a monarchy. But the same success did not attend him in 1043-1060 his efforts to restore the supremacy of Cordova. Some of the walis whom he summoned to take the usual oath of fidelity excused themselves on various grounds; others plainly replied that he must not expect to rule over any other city than the one he inhabited: the wali of Toledo advised him to be grateful to the moderation of men who allowed him to retain Cordova.

After triumphing over some neighboring kings who dreaded his increasing power, the sovereign of Seville prepared to invade the possessions of Gehwar; but death surprised him before those preparations were completed. His son, Mohammed Almoateded, who succeeded him, was as ambitious as himself, but more luxurious. But this ostentatious luxury did not divert him from treading in the steps of his able father. He seized on Huelva, Niebla, and Gibraltar, and aimed at the reduction of Carmona, which his father had been unable to effect. Though the fate of the last-named place was suspended for some years by the energetic resistance of its ruler, in 1052 it capitulated. All southern Andalusia was now in the power of Almoateded, yet his ambition was far from satisfied. For some time he remained in alliance with Mohammed, the son and successor of Gehwar on the throne of Cordova; but he had resolved to gain possession of that ancient capital,—whether by force or stratagem imported him little. That opportunity arrived in 1060. The troops of Mohammed had just been defeated by Aben Dylnun, who followed up the success by investing Cordova. The king was too much weakened by sickness to meet the impending danger, and Abdelmelic was too feeble to avert it by his own unassisted arm. The latter prince hastened to Seville and implored the immediate aid of his friend. That friend arrived at the head of a considerable army and with the aid of the citizens totally routed the forces of Dylnun. But while Abdelmelic was pursuing the fugitives the unprincipled ally moved his army on the city, took it, and made the unsuspecting Mohammed prisoner. The shock was too great for the shattered nerves of the son of Gehwar, who soon expired of a broken heart. The fate of Abdelmelic was no less melancholy. On returning to the capital which his valor had been instrumental in saving, he was refused admission, and was at the same instant surrounded and made a prisoner by the troops of his perfidious ally. Being consigned to a dungeon in one of the city towers, his wounds, and still more the indignation which he felt at hearing Almoateded loudly hailed as sovereign by 1064-1085 the despicable populace,—or perhaps a violent death,—soon reunited him with his unfortunate father.

The king of Toledo was eager to erase the shame of his defeat under the walls of Cordova, but he dreaded the power of Almoateded and endeavored to strengthen himself by alliances. His son-in-law, the king of Valencia, refused to aid him—doubtless through fear of the Sevillian king. In a transport of fury he departed for Valencia at the head of his cavalry, surprised the place, deposed and exiled his son-in-law, and caused himself to be proclaimed (1064). But though he triumphed over some allies of Mohammed, the son and successor of Almoateded, though he vanquished the general of that prince, though during the absence of Mohammed he surprised both Cordova and Seville, his success was transient: he was besieged in the latter city by his active enemy, and died there at the moment Mohammed was advancing to take it by storm. The troops of the deceased king precipitately left the place; Cordova was recovered with little difficulty; Murcia, the ally of Toledo, was soon occupied by the conquering Mohammed; Baeza, and other neighboring cities, shared the same fate: in short, after so many years of continued warfare, the king of Seville and Cordova became, not merely the most powerful, but almost the only independent sovereign of Mohammedan Spain.

Yahia Alkadia, the son and successor of Aben Dylnun on the throne of Toledo, inherited neither the courage nor the abilities of that prince. Sunk in the lowest sensuality, he regarded with indifference the growing success of Mohammed. He became at length so contemptible that his very subjects rose and expelled him. He applied for aid to the ally of his father, Alfonso VI., king of Leon, but that prince, though under the greatest obligations to the memory of the father, was persuaded by the king of Seville to adopt a hostile policy towards the son. Though Yahia was restored to his throne by the king of Badajoz, his destiny, as a Mohammedan would term it, was not to be avoided. His states were laid waste and his capital invested by the Christian king. His situation was now critical: in vain did the king of Badajoz advance to his assistance. The victorious Alfonso triumphed over all opposition, and prosecuted the siege with a vigor which might have shown the misbelievers how formidable an enemy awaited them all, and how necessary were their combined efforts to resist him. But Mohammed, the only enemy whom the Christian hero had to dread, was no 1085-1086 less occupied in deriving his share of the advantages secured by the treaty,—in reducing the strong towns of Murcia and Granada. After a siege of three years Toledo was reduced to the last extremity and was compelled to capitulate. On the 25th of May, 1085, Alfonso triumphantly entered this ancient capital of the Goths (Yahia retired to Valencia), which had remained in the power of the misbelievers for about three hundred and seventy-four years.

The conquest of Toledo was far from satisfying the ambition of Alfonso: he rapidly seized on the fortresses of Madrid, Maqueda, Guadalaxara, and established his dominion on both banks of the Tagus. Mohammed now began seriously to repent his treaty with the Christian, and to tremble even for his own possessions. He vainly endeavored to divert his ally from the projects of aggrandizement which that ally had evidently formed. The kings of Badajoz and Saragossa became tributaries to the latter; nay, if any reliance is to be placed on either Christian or Arabic historians, the king of Seville himself was subjected to the same humiliation. Against the Christians these princes sought an ally in the person of Yussef ben Taxfin, the African conqueror who, after subjugating Fez, became the first emir of the Almoravides, now willingly joined to defend Mohammed Spain and set out to attack Alfonso.

Alfonso was besieging Saragossa, which he had every expectation of reducing, when intelligence reached him of Yussef’s disembarkation. He resolved to meet the approaching storm. At the head of all the forces he could muster he advanced towards Andalusia and encountered Yussef on the plains of Zalaca between Badajoz and Merida. The two armies engaged the thirteenth day of the moon Regeb, A.H. 479 (April 17, 1086). The onset of Alfonso at the head of the Christian cavalry was so fierce that the ranks of the Almoravides were thrown into confusion; not less successful was Sancho, king of Navarre, against the Andalusians, who retreated towards Badajoz. But the troops of Seville kept the field and fought with desperate valor: they would, however, have given way had not Yussef at this critical moment advanced with his reserve and his own guard, consisting of his bravest troops, and assailed the Christians in the rear and flanks. This unexpected movement decided the fortune of the day. Alfonso was severely wounded and compelled to retreat, but not until nightfall, nor until he had displayed a valor worthy of the greatest heroes. Though his own loss was severe, amounting according to the 1086-1091 Arabians to 24,000 men, that of the enemy could scarcely be inferior, when we consider that this victory had no result: Yussef was evidently too much weakened to profit by it.

Not long after the battle, Yussef being called to Africa by the death of a son, the command of the Almoravides devolved on Syr ben Abi Bekir, the ablest of his generals. That general advanced northwards, and seized some insignificant fortresses; but the advantage was only temporary, and was more than counterbalanced by the disasters of the following year. The king of Saragossa, Abu Giafar, had hoped that the defeat of Zalaca would prevent the Christians from attacking him; but that of his allies, the Mohammedan princes, in the neighborhood, and the taking of Huesca by the king of Navarre, convinced him how fallacious was his fancied security. Seeing that no advantage whatever had accrued from his former expedition, Yussef now proclaimed the Alhiged, or holy war, and invited all the Andalusian princes to join him. In 1091 he landed a third time at Algeziras, not so much with the view of humbling the Christian king as of executing the perfidious design he had so long formed, for he openly threw off the mask and began his career of spoliation.

The king of Granada, Abdalla ben Balkin, was the first victim to African perfidy. In the conviction that he must be overwhelmed if resistance were offered, he left his city to welcome Yussef. His submission was vain: he was instantly loaded with chains, and with his family sent to Agmat. Timur ben Balkin, brother of Abdalla, was in the same violent manner despoiled of Malaga. Mohammed now perceived the grievous error which he had committed, and the prudent foresight of his son Al Raxid. It seemed as if fate had indeed resolved that this well-meaning but misguided prince should fall by his own obstinacy, for though his son advised him to seek the alliance of Alfonso, he refused to do so until that alliance could no longer avail him. He himself seemed to think that the knell of his departing greatness was about to sound; and the most melancholy images were present to his fancy even in sleep.

But if Mohammed was superstitious,—if he felt that fate had doomed him, and that resistance would be useless,—he resolved not to fall ignobly. His defense was indeed heroic, but it was vain, even though Alfonso sent him an aid of 20,000 men: his cities fell one by one; Seville was constrained to capitulate; he and his family were thrown into prison until a ship was prepared to 1093 convey them into Africa, whither their perfidious ally had retired some weeks before. His conduct in this melancholy reverse of fortune is represented as truly great.

After the fall of Mohammed the general of Yussef had little difficulty in subduing the remaining princes of Andalusia. Valencia next received the African yoke. The king of Saragossa was more fortunate. He sent ambassadors to Yussef bearing rich presents and proposing an alliance with a common league against the Christians. Yussef accepted the proposal; a treaty of alliance was made; and the army of Abu Giafar was reinforced by a considerable body of Almoravides (1093), with whom he repelled an invasion of Sancho, king of Aragon. A third division of the Africans, which marched to destroy the sovereignty of Algarve and Badajoz, was no less successful. Badajoz capitulated; but, in violation of the treaty, the dethroned Omar, with two of his sons, was surrounded and assassinated by a body of cavalry as he was unsuspiciously journeying from the scene of his past prosperity in search of another asylum. A third son was placed in close confinement.

Thus ended the petty kingdoms of Andalusia, after a stormy existence of about sixty years, and thus commenced the dynasty of the Almoravides. The name Almoravides was given by the Spaniards to these Berber fanatics as a corruption of the Arabic title they had chosen for themselves, signifying those “bound to the service of God.”

For some years after the usurpation of Yussef peace appears to have subsisted in Spain between the Mohammedans and the Christians. Fearing a new irruption of Africans, Alfonso contented himself with fortifying Toledo; and Yussef felt little inclination to renew the war with one whose prowess he had so fatally experienced. But Christian Spain was, at one moment, near the brink of ruin. The passion for the crusades was no less ardently felt by the Spaniards than by other nations of Europe: thousands of the best warriors were preparing to depart for the Holy Land, as if there was more merit in contending with the infidels in a remote region, for a barren sepulchre, than at home for the dearest interests of man—for honor, patriotism, and religion. Fortunately for Spain, Pope Pascal II., in answer to the representations of Alfonso, declared that the proper post of every Spaniard was at home, and there were his true enemies.

In 1102 Yussef visited his new possessions in the Peninsula. At Cordova, which in imitation of the Omeyas he wished1102-1116 to honor as the capital, he convoked his walis and sheiks, and caused his second son Ali to be proclaimed heir of his vast empire. The latter soon afterwards returned to Morocco, where he died on the third day of the moon Muharram, A.H. 500 (1106), after living one hundred Arabian, or about ninety-seven Christian years.

Ali was only in his twenty-third year when he succeeded his father, whose military talents he inherited, and whom he surpassed in generosity. The readiness with which he pardoned his nephew, the son of his elder brother, who aspired to the throne, made a favorable impression on his subjects. One of his first acts was to visit Cordova, to receive the homage of the people: this was followed by a declaration of war against the Christians, the conduct of which he intrusted to his brother Temim. Near Ucles an army of Castilians was cut to pieces, and the infant, Don Sancho, the son of Alfonso, slain. But the Christian hero, though sorrowful, was not dismayed; he raised new levies, strengthened his fortifications of Toledo, and so imposed on the misbelievers that they dared not attack him. They obtained, indeed, some temporary success in Catalonia, but this was more than counterbalanced by subsequent reverses. On the death of Alfonso, however, in A.D. 1109, Ali again entered Spain at the head of 100,000 men, to prosecute in person the war against the Christians. But though he laid waste the territory of Toledo, and invested that city, he soon abandoned the siege in utter hopelessness, devastated the country as far as Madrid and Guadalaxara, and destroyed Talavera. These were poor results from such vast preparations. In the north the Christians were more fortunate. Under Alfonso I. of Aragon they defeated and slew Abu Giafar in battle and took Tudela. With this able Mohammedan prince ended the greatness of the kingdom of Saragossa. His son, indeed, Abdelmelic, surnamed Amad Dola, was proclaimed in his place; but though the young prince was valiant, he was unable to contend with his formidable neighbor of Aragon. His independence being threatened on the one hand by the Almoravides, who appear to have destined him to an African fortress, and on the other by the king of Aragon, in 1116 he entered into an alliance with the latter, as the nearer and more dangerous of his enemies. In the same year Alfonso defeated and slew Mezdeli, 1118-1120 the wali of Granada, and seized on Lerida. A second army sent by Ali had no better success; it was routed and compelled to retreat by the Christian king, who now openly expressed his resolution of besieging Saragossa, though the unfortunate Amad Dola did not deserve such treatment from an ally. In 512 (A.D. 1118) that important city, after a siege of some months, fell into the power of the Christians, and the north of Spain was forever freed from the domination of the Mohammedans, though Amad Dola was permitted to reign over a diminished territory as the tributary of the Aragonese. The following year the Aragonian hero destroyed 20,000 of the Africans, who had advanced as far as the environs of Daroca; while another division of the Almoravides, under Ali in person, was compelled to retreat before the army of Leon and Castile.

At this time (1120) the empire of the Almoravides was tottering to its fall. Even while Ali remained in Spain, an open revolt of the inhabitants, who could not longer support the excesses of the barbarian guard, showed him on how precarious a basis his empire was founded. They now took righteous justice into their own hands: they rose against the Almoravides, of whom they massacred a considerable number.

But the cause which most menaced the existence of Ali’s throne, and which was destined to change the whole face of western Africa and southern Spain, originated, like the power of Yussef ben Taxfin, in the deserts bordering on Mount Atlas. Mohammed ben Abdalla, the son of a lamplighter in the mosque of Cordova, was distinguished for great curiosity and an insatiable thirst for knowledge. After studying for some years in the schools of his native city, he journeyed to Bagdad, to continue his studies under the celebrated doctors of the capital, among them being the heretical writer, Algazali.

Whether Mohammed was a fanatic or a knave, or composed of a large mixture of both, is not easy to be determined. On his return from Bagdad to Mauritania he had no wish to revisit his native city, where he could expect little honor: he wandered from place to place zealously preaching the doctrines of Algazali. With a friend, Abdelmumen, he traveled to Fez, and thence to Morocco, to inculcate the new doctrine. One day they entered the grand mosque, and Mohammed immediately occupied the most prominent seat. He was informed that the place was reserved for 1130 the imam and the prince of the faithful. “The temples belong to Allah, and to Allah alone!” was the reply of the bold intruder, who, to the surprise of the audience, repeated the whole chapter of the Koran following that passage. In a few moments Ali entered, and all rose to salute him, with the exception of Mohammed, who did not even deign to cast a glance on the dreaded chief of a great empire. When the service was concluded he approached Ali, and, in a voice loud enough to be heard by those around him, said, “Provide a remedy for the afflictions of thy people! one day Allah will require thee to account for them!” The artful rebel was permitted to follow his vocation until the excitement produced by his fanatic appeals to the ignorant populace was too great to be overlooked, and he was ordered to leave Morocco. At a short distance from the city, however, probably in its public cemetery, he built a hut among the graves as a residence for himself and his faithful Abdelmumen. As he anticipated, he was soon followed by crowds, who venerated his prophetic character, and who listened with pleasure to vehement denunciations which fell with terrific effect on their superiors. His tone now became bolder: he inveighed against the impiety of the Almoravides, who appear not to have been more popular in Mauritania than in Spain. Ali now ordered the rebel to be secured. Mohammed, who had timely notice of the fate intended him, fled to Agmat, accompanied by a host of proselytes; but finding that his liberty was still in danger, he hastily retreated to Tinmal in the province of Suz. His success in this region was so great that he had soon an army of disciples, all devoted to his will, because all believed in his divine mission. One day, in conformity with a preconcerted plan, as he was expatiating on the change to be effected by the long-promised teacher and ruler, Abdelmumen and nine other men arose, saying: “Thou announcest a mehedi; the description applies only to thyself. Be our mehedi and imam; we swear to obey thee!” The Berbers, influenced by the example, in the same manner arose and vowed fidelity even unto death. From this moment he assumed the high title of mehedi, and proclaimed himself as the founder of a new people. He instituted a regular government, confiding the administration to Abdelmumen, his minister, with nine associates, but reserving the control to himself. Seventy Berbers or Alarabs formed the council of the new government. An army of 10,000 horse, and a far greater number of foot, was speedily organized, 1130 with which he took the road to Agmat just as Ali returned to Morocco from Spain.

The wali of Suz, Abu Bekir, was ordered to disperse the rebels. But the appearance of the warrior prophet was so imposing that the general forbore to attack him; from his truly representing the danger as much more formidable than had been apprehended, a considerable reinforcement was dispatched from Morocco, and the whole army placed under the command of Ibrahim, brother of the emperor. Just as the signal for battle was given the Almoravides fled, whether through treachery or superstition is uncertain; and the victors, if such they may be called, reaped an ample harvest of plunder. A second imperial army was vanquished after an obstinate struggle; and the proclamations of the mehedi, who invited all true Mussulmans to embrace his doctrines, on the penalty of everlasting perdition, added greatly to the embarrassments of Ali. In this state of anxiety he recalled his brother Temim from Spain, whose military reputation stood deservedly high. The new general advanced against the prophet, who had entrenched himself among the strongholds of the Atlas mountains. Notwithstanding the superiority of the rebel’s position, Temim ordered his soldiers to scale the mountain. For some hours they rapidly ascended, but before reaching the summit, confusion suddenly seized their foremost ranks,—the effect, beyond doubt, of their superstitious fears,—rank fell back on rank and great numbers were forced precipitately down the rocks and dashed to pieces. The Almohades, for such was the name assumed by the followers of Mohammed, now issued from their entrenchments, and the troops of Ali were a fourth time defeated.

Mohammed resolved to renew the war on the chief of the Almoravides and to reduce the capital of Morocco. At his voice 40,000 men took the field. As he was detained at Tinmal by an illness from which he had little hope of recovery, the white banner was intrusted to the sheik Abu Mohammed el Baxir, one of the ten who were sent with the army in 1125. The preparations of Ali were immense: 100,000 men were ranged round his standard. They were again defeated, were pursued to the very walls of Morocco, and that capital invested with a vigor which showed that the Almohades were intent on its reduction. In the sorties made by the besieged, success remained on the side of the assailants, so that discouragement seized on the former. It is probable that Ali 1126-1129 would soon have been compelled to capitulate had not one of his inferior officers, Abdalla ben Humusqui by name, a native of Andalusia, importuned him to permit that officer to make another sortie at the head of 600 chosen men, and had not success attended the daring action. The little party returned with 300 heads of the enemy, a feat which proved that the Almohades were not invincible, and which infused new courage into the Almoravides. In this favorable disposition of mind, Ali led his troops against the rebels, whom he completely routed.

But if the Almoravides were this time successful in Africa, in Spain their affairs were growing daily worse. Alfonso of Aragon not only openly defied their force, but made an insulting tour through Andalusia, defeating all who opposed him, driving away the cattle of the fields, and laying waste the labors of the husbandmen. Yet this expedition availed him nothing: the Mozarabs of Granada, many of whom joined his army, had flattered him with the hope of obtaining that city; but on finding Temim, who had just arrived from Africa, drawn up under the walls of the place, he desisted from what he considered a hopeless enterprise. In the year 1126 Temim died at Granada, and was succeeded in the government of the country by Taxfin, the son of Ali, who in two succeeding engagements triumphed over the Christians of Leon, but derived no advantage from his success.

The period was now come when the mehedi again resolved to try the fortune of war. With 30,000 cavalry, and a considerable number of infantry, he hoped to wipe out the stain of the last defeat under the walls of Morocco. As his illness still continued, he confided the command to his favorite disciple, Abdelmumen, whom he invested with the dignity of imam. In 1128 the new general completely defeated the Almoravides, and pursued them as before to the gates of Morocco. But he forbore to besiege the place, doubtless from a persuasion that his present forces were unequal to the enterprise, and he returned to Tinmal. Mohammed came out to meet his beloved disciple, to whom he presented the book containing the tenets of his faith,—a book which he had received from the hands of Algazali. The fourth day he expired, which was the third of the moon Muharram A.H. 524 (1129). The chiefs of the state were soon afterwards assembled to deliberate on the form of government: a monarchy was chosen, and by their unanimous suffrages Abdelmumen was proclaimed imam and almumenin.

Though Alfonso, the king of Aragon, had fallen at the siege of Fraga, the Almoravides had met with an equally valiant foe in his1129-1145 son, Alfonso Raymond, king of Leon and Castile. Several of the Andalusian cities openly rebelled, and were not reduced to obedience without incredible efforts, and without the exhibition of equal valor and decision on the part of Taxfin; and after that prince joined his father to repel the formidable Abdelmumen, the affairs of both suffered greatly by his absence. In 1138 the count of Portugal triumphed over the Almoravides on the famous plains of Ourique, when his soldiers unanimously hailed him as king. Finally, the bloody contentions which broke out between the Andalusians and the Africans; the struggles of each for the fairest cities of Mohammedan Spain; the triumph of the former; the expulsion of the latter from most of the places they had so long occupied; and, above all, the victories of Abdelmumen in Mauritania, brought the proud empire of the Almoravides to the very brink of ruin.

Taxfin ben Ali succeeded in 1142 to his father, who died at Morocco, more from grief at the declining state of affairs than from any other cause. His first object was to assemble an army to strike another blow for the defense of his empire. At first he was successful. Abdelmumen was compelled to fall back on his mountain; but in a second action Taxfin was defeated; in a third he was also compelled to retreat. Being pursued into Tremecen, he made a vigorous defense, and after a few unsuccessful assaults Abdelmumen, leaving a considerable force to continue the siege, turned his arms against Oran, the reduction of which he hoped would prevent the meditated flight of Taxfin from Mauritania into Andalusia. Taking a small but determined body of horsemen from Tremecen, Taxfin pushed through the camp of the Almohades, and threw himself into Oran, which was on the point of capitulating. It now held out with renewed vigor; but the perseverance of the besiegers was not in the least diminished, and Ali saw that his only hope of safety lay in an escape to Spain. One night he resolved to make a desperate effort to gain the port where his vessels were still riding at anchor. Unfortunately, either he mistook his way or his mule was terrified by the roaring of the waves, for the next morning his mangled corpse was found at the foot of a precipice on the beach. His head was sent to Tinmal; Oran capitulated, and Abdelmumen entered it in triumph, early in the moon Muharram, A.H. 549 (1145).

But Morocco, Fez, and some other cities were yet in the power of the Almoravides, who raised Ibrahim Abu Ishac, son of Taxfin,1145 to the throne. The vindictive Abdelmumen, however, left them little time to breathe. Tremecen he took by assault and massacred the inhabitants; Fez he also reduced; so that Morocco was now the only city which acknowledged Ibrahim. While Abdelmumen undertook to reduce it he dispatched his general, Abu Amram, to invade Andalusia. Several of the walis, who, after expelling the Almoravides, began to reign as petty sovereigns, finding that they were too feeble to maintain themselves in their usurped authority, declared for the Almohades. Algeziras, Gibraltar, and Xeres opened their gates without delay; and Aben Cosai, the governor of Algarve, joined Abu Amram with all his forces. In the meantime the siege of Morocco was prosecuted with vigor. The inhabitants were so fatally repulsed in a sortie that they durst no longer venture outside the walls. Famine soon aided the sword: the number who died of starvation is said to have amounted to three-fourths of the whole population. Such a place could not long hold out, and accordingly it was carried in the first general assault.

During these memorable exploits in Africa the Christians were rapidly increasing their dominions. Coria, Mora, etc., were in the power of Alfonso, styled the emperor; and almost every contest between the two natural enemies had turned to the advantage of the Christians. Both Christians and Africans now contended for the superiority. While the troops of Alfonso reduced Baeza, and, with a Mohammedan ally, even Cordova, Malaga, and Seville acknowledged Abu Amram. Calatrava and Almeria next fell to the Christian emperor, about the same time that Lisbon and the neighboring towns received Alfonso I., the new sovereign of Portugal. Most of these conquests, however, were subsequently recovered by the Almohades. Being reinforced by a new army from Africa, the latter pursued their successes with greater vigor. They reduced Cordova, which was held by an ally of Alfonso, defeated and forever paralyzed the expiring efforts of the Almoravides and proclaimed their emperor Abdelmumen as sovereign of all Mohammedan Spain.

Thus in the middle of the twelfth century was founded the dynasty of the Almohades, or “worshipers of one God,” whose fortunes occupy the next one hundred years of Spanish history.

Abdelmumen, as if desirous of subduing, not merely what had 1162-1184 formed the empire of the Almoravides, but all the regions which owned the faith of Islam, levied army after army; so that from Portugal to Tunis and Cairwan his wild hordes spread devastation and dismay. To detail the events of the wars sustained by his general, or his son, the Cid Yussef, in Andalusia, would afford little interest to the reader. It will be sufficient to observe that, by slow but sure degrees, the whole of Andalusia was incorporated with his empire. Once only did he visit Spain, if remaining a few hours at Gibraltar can deserve the name. In 1161, however, on hearing of the dissensions existing among the Christian princes after the death of the emperor Alfonso, he declared his determination of subduing all Spain in person. But an enemy, against which not all his armies could avail him, now assailed him: on the 8th day of Jumadi II., A.H. 558 (1162), he breathed his last. He had always designed his son Cid Mohammed for his successor; but, from some dissatisfaction with the conduct of that prince, he changed his will, six days before his death, in favor of his son Yussef, whose talents he had long learned to appreciate.

On his accession Yussef Abu Yacub dismissed the army which lay at Suli. During the following few years he appears to have cultivated the blessings of peace; it was not until 1170 that he entered Spain, for the first time since his elevation, when all Mohammedan Spain owned the emperor.

Notwithstanding the destructive wars which had prevailed near a century, neither Moors nor Christians had acquired much advantage by them. From the reduction of Saragossa to the present time the victory, indeed, had generally declared for the Christians: but their conquests, with the exception of Lisbon and a few fortresses in central Spain, were lost almost as soon as gained: and the same fate attended the equally transient successes of the Mohammedans. The Christians, when at peace among themselves, were always too many for their Mohammedan neighbors, even when the latter were aided by the whole power of western Africa.

In 1176 the king of Castile reduced Caenza and the Moors were defeated before Toledo. The following year the Portuguese were no less successful before Abrantes, which the Africans had besieged. These disasters roused the wrath of Yussef; but as an obscure rebellion required his presence at that time in Mauritania, he did not land in Spain until 1184. He marched without delay against Santarem, which his soldiers had vainly besieged 1184-1195 some years before. By misdirection of his force Yussef had unfortunately, for the time, been left alone with his guard, whom the Christians had fallen upon, while he defended himself like a hero: six of the advancing assailants he laid low before the same fate was inflicted on himself. The merciless carnage of the Christians spared not even his female attendants. At this moment two companies of cavalry arrived, and, finding their monarch dying, furiously charged the Christians, whom they soon put to flight. In a few hours the whole army returned, and, inspired with the same hope of vengeance, they stormed and took the place and put every living creature to the sword.

Yacub ben Yussef, from his victories afterwards named Almansor, who was then in Spain, was immediately declared successor to his father. For some years he was not personally opposed to the Christians, though his walis carried on a desultory indecisive war. He was long detained in Africa, first in quelling some domestic commotions and afterwards by severe illness. He was scarcely recovered when the intelligence that the Christians were making insulting irruptions to the very outworks of Algeziras made him resolve upon punishing their audacity. His preparations were of the most formidable description. In 1194 he landed in Andalusia, and proceeded towards Valencia, where the Christian army then lay. There Alfonso VIII., king of Castile, was awaiting the expected reinforcements from his allies, the kings of Leon and Navarre. Both armies pitched their tents on the plains of Alarcon. Yacub drew up the plan for the battle: the Almohades and Andalusians were to lead the attack; the Berber troops and the volunteers were to sustain it; the third division, containing the royal guard and the negroes, commanded by the king in person, were to take a circuit, and during the action fall on the flanks of the enemy. The result was fatal to the Castilian army, which, discouraged at what it considered a new enemy, gave way in every direction. Alfonso, preferring an honorable death to the shame of defeat, prepared to plunge into the heart of the Mohammedan squadrons, when his nobles surrounded him and forced him from the field. Alfonso retreated to Toledo just as the king of Leon arrived with the promised reinforcement. The latter naturally upbraided him for his rashness; but, fortunately for the interests of Christianity and of Spain, a timely interference brought about a reconciliation between the two princes: Alfonso even consented to 1198 bestow the hand of his daughter Berengaria on the king of Leon. From this marriage a prince was born (St. Fernando), who united the two crowns. After this signal victory Yacub rapidly reduced Calatrava, Guadalaxara, Madrid and Esalona, Salamanca, etc. Toledo, too, he invested, but in vain. He returned to Africa, caused his son Mohammed to be declared wali alhadi, and died, the 22d day of the moon Regeb, A.H. 595 (November 2, 1198). He was, beyond doubt, the greatest and best of the Almohades.

The character of Mohammed Abu Abdalla, surnamed Alnassir, was very different from that of his great father. Absorbed in effeminate pleasures, he paid little attention to the internal administration of his empire or to the welfare of his people. Yet he was not insensible to martial fame, and he prepared to punish the audacity of Alfonso of Castile, who made destructive inroads into Andalusia.

Mohammed opened the campaign of 1211 by the siege of Salvatierra, a strong but not important fortress of Estremadura, defended by the knights of Calatrava. The place stood out for several months, and did not surrender until the emperor had sustained a heavy loss. By suspending the execution of his great design until the following season he allowed Alfonso time to prepare for the contest. The following June the kings of Leon and Castile having assembled at Toledo, and been joined by a considerable number of foreign volunteers, the Christian army advanced towards the south. That of the infidels lay in the neighborhood of Baeza, and extended to the Sierra Morena. As the former passed, the strong fortresses of Malagon and Calatrava were wrested from the Mohammedans, conquests which more than counterbalanced the loss of Salvatierra. But here a misfortune befell the Christian cause which damped the ardor of its supporters. The foreign volunteers, after the capitulation of the latter fortress, declared their resolution to return home; and return they did, in opposition to the entreaties of Alfonso and his ally of Aragon. This loss of near 30,000 men greatly weakened the crusaders; but the seasonable though tardy arrival of Don Sancho, king of Aragon, with a considerable reinforcement, raised their courage.

On July 12 the crusaders reached the mountainous chain which divides New Castile from Andalusia. They found not only the passes, but the summits of the mountains, occupied by the Almohades. To force a passage was impossible, and they even 1212-1223 deliberated on retreating, so as to draw out, if possible, the enemy from positions so formidable, when a shepherd entered the camp of Alfonso and proposed to conduct the Christian army, by a path unknown to both armies, to the summit of this elevated chain,—by a path, too, which would be invisible to the enemy’s outposts. A few companies having accompanied the man, and found him equally faithful and well informed, the whole army silently ascended and entrenched themselves on the summit, the level of which was extensive enough to contain them all. Below appeared the widespread tents of the Moslems, whose surprise was great on perceiving the heights thus occupied by the crusaders. For two days the latter, whose fatigues had been harassing, kept their position; but on the third day they descended into the plains of Tolosa, which were about to be immortalized by their valor. Their right wing was led by the king of Navarre, their left by the king of Aragon, while Alfonso took his station in the center. Mohammed had drawn up his army in a similar manner, but with a strong body of reserves he occupied an elevation well defended besides by vast iron chains, which surrounded his impenetrable guard. The attack was made by the Christian center against that of the Mohammedans, and immediately the two wings moved against those of the enemy. The struggle was terrific but short; myriads of the barbarians fell; the boundary was first broken down by the king of Navarre; the Castilians and Aragonese followed; all opponents were massacred or fled. The carnage of the latter was dreadful, until darkness put an end to it. The victors now occupied the tents of the Mohammedans. The loss of the Africans, even according to the Arabian writers, who admit that the center was wholly destroyed, could not fall short of 160,000 men.

The reduction of several towns from Tolosa to Baeza immediately followed this glorious victory,—a victory in which Don Alfonso nobly redeemed his failure in the field of Zalaca, and which, in its immediate consequences, involved the ruin of the Mohammedan empire in Spain. Mohammed did not long survive his disaster. Having precipitately fled to Morocco, he abandoned himself to licentious pleasures, left the cares of government to his son, or rather his ministers, and died, not without suspicion of poison.

The reign of Yussef Abu Yacub, who was only eleven years of age on the death of his father, was a scene of continued troubles. His death without issue, in 1223, was the signal for troubles. 1224-1231 Abul Melic Abdelwahid, brother of Mohammed Anasir, succeeded to the disputed inheritance; but in eight months the very sheiks who had elected him deprived him at once of empire and of life, in favor of Abdallah Abu Mohammed, surnamed Aladel, governor of Valencia and Murcia, who had assumed the regal title. This prince never left Spain: indeed he was too busily occupied in defending his states against Ferdinand III., king of Leon and heir to the crown of Castile, to think of abandoning the country. A conspiracy was formed against him, and he was strangled in his bed in 1225.

Almamun Abu Ali, brother of Aladel, was next proclaimed king of Mauritania and Spain. He, too, by his projected reforms, made as many enemies as there were walis. Of these enemies, however, the most vindictive were the members of the two councils which had been instituted by the mehedi, and the powers of which he openly declared his resolution of modifying. To avert the threatened storm, that body immediately proclaimed Yahia ben Anasir prince of the faithful, and supplied him with troops to invade Andalusia and to expel Almamun. Near the city of Sidonia, Almamun triumphed over his rival, and from that moment openly vowed the destruction of the senate at Morocco. He, therefore, hastened thither, and with such expedition and secrecy that he arrived there before the news of his departure from Andalusia. He instantly assembled the sheiks who formed the two councils, and, after upbraiding them for their disloyalty, ordered them to be beheaded in the courtyard of his palace.

But if Almamun thus triumphed in Africa, his affairs wore a different aspect in Spain, which was now to continue the prey of revolt until most of the territories still owning the Mohammedan power were subjugated by the Christians. In Andalusia there was a sheik descended from the kings of Saragossa, Abu Abdalla Mohammed ben Hud by name, who formed the design of rescuing the country from the now feeble because divided grasp of the Almohades, and of founding for himself a new kingdom. Aben Hud, however, had other competitors. One Jomail ben Zeyan, an Andalusian chief, rescued Valencia from the Almohades, and proclaimed himself independent. But that independence was to be of short duration; for not only was the usurper threatened by Aben Hud, but by Ferdinand, who had united the crowns of Leon and Castile, and by King Jayme of Aragon, surnamed the Conqueror, who had 1231-1238 long resolved on the subjugation of Valencia. The last-named sovereign began his career of victory by reducing the Balearic Isles, which he rescued from the yoke of the Almohades. The empire of these Africans in the Peninsula was now to end. While King Jayme was threatening Valencia, Aben Hud was acknowledged by Granada, Merida, Seville, and soon after by all Andalusia. These disasters hastened the death of Almamun in 1231.

In this deplorable situation of Mohammedan Spain, when the various states were threatened by the Christian princes, and when help from Africa could no longer be expected, the followers of the prophet cast their eyes on Aben Alhamar, who alone was able to secure them in their possessions; nay, who alone could prevent their expulsion from the Peninsula. After the surrender of Valencia, though King Jayme allowed perfect freedom of conscience and a reasonable portion of liberty to all who chose to remain, 50,000 Mussulmans bade adieu to the fertile plains of that province, and flocked to the cities which owned the sway of Mohammed. The latter fixed his court in Granada, resolved, if possible, to extend or at the worst to preserve his new states against the independent walis on the one hand and the Christians on the other. Our attention is now called to the only Mohammedan state which survived the wreck of the African empire, to one which, during more than two centuries and a half, withstood the hostile attacks of its Christian neighbors, and which fell only when all Christian Spain became united under one scepter, and consequently irresistible.

Chapter VIII

KINGDOM OF GRANADA. 1238-1492

Mohammed ben Alhamar, the founder of a celebrated kingdom, had qualities of a high order. Intrepid in war, yet averse to engage in it unless necessity demanded; vigorous in his internal administration, yet mild and conciliating; possessed of great foresight, and therefore seldom surprised by the ordinary chances of human affairs; prudent in his measures, comprehensive in his views, and magnificent in his habits; fond of power, but fonder still of popularity, he was excellently adapted to rule over a people like the Andalusians.

Scarcely had this prince taken possession of his new states than he prepared for wars which he well saw were inevitable. He repaired the frontier fortresses of his little kingdom, which extended from Algeziras to beyond Almeria on the coast, and inwards as far as Jaen and Huescar; and, to be provided against the worst, he at the same time fortified his capital of Granada.

The preparations of Aben Alhamar were amply justified by the sequel of events. The marriage of St. Ferdinand with a French princess had for a whole year suspended hostilities in that quarter; but now, when the marriage fêtes were concluded, that saintly monarch reappeared in armor. In A.H. 637 (A.D. 1240), and the following year, his generals reduced Arjona and some other fortresses, while the king of Aragon seized on Villena and Xativa. But Ferdinand meditated a more important conquest. Well knowing the distracted state of Murcia, he sent his son Alfonso to reduce one by one the walis of that province. This expedition was attended with complete success, the wali of Lorca alone, Azis ben Abdelmelic, refusing to acknowledge the supremacy of Castile. The rest became the vassals of Ferdinand. Azis, however, soon afterwards lost his life in opposing Jomail, the deposed sovereign of Valencia, who longed to have at least a shadow of royalty, and who usurped the sovereignty of Lorca and Carthagena. The following 1245-1246 year the usurper was dispossessed of these places by the victorious Alfonso and forced to retire into private life.

But these conquests, important as they were, were soon to be eclipsed by others. Aben Alhamar had ventured to oppose the irruptions of Prince Alfonso into his states, and he was therefore marked out for the vengeance of the Castilians. The city of Jaen, the bulwark of the new kingdom, was invested by Ferdinand in person. While prosecuting the siege with a constancy which showed that he was resolute on bringing it to a successful issue, detachments from his army reduced Illora and Alcala Real. The Moorish king now tried whether better fortune might not attend him in open campaign; but his signal defeat by the Castilian monarch in 1245 taught him to respect the valor of his enemies. Still the place held out during the whole of the succeeding winter, when Ferdinand again joined the besieging army, and declared that he would not move from the walls until it owned his sway. Aben Alhamar perceiving that its fall was inevitable, proceeded alone to the camp of the monarch, obtained an interview with him, announced his name, offered to become the vassal of the Castilian crown, and kissed the king’s hand in token of homage. Ferdinand was not to be outdone in generosity: he embraced Mohammed, whom he called his dear friend and ally, and whom he thanked for so signal a proof of confidence. The two kings soon agreed as to their immediate policy. Jaen was surrendered, an annual tribute was promised, with a certain number of horsemen whenever the king of Castile went to war: the king of Granada, too, like other feudatories, was to attend the Cortes of the Christian kingdom. In return, Aben Alhamar was guaranteed in his remaining possessions and treated with the highest distinction by his new friend. This proceeding of the Moorish king was as necessary as it was painful. Had he delayed it much longer, his infant state would have been overrun by the powerful Castilian and he himself either driven into exile or condemned to a private station.

But if Aben Alhamar had thus succeeded in purchasing peace, it was a sacrifice much greater than that even of personal independence. The Mussulmans were his brethren; yet in his quality of vassal to King Ferdinand he was compelled to draw the sword against them, and thereby to increase the power of the most formidable enemy of his faith. Not many months had elapsed after his treaty with the Christians before he was summoned, according to 1246-1248 its tenor, to march to the camp of Ferdinand with a body of 500 horse to aid in the meditated conquest of Seville. He obeyed the summons, and on his reaching the camp of his liege lord, who was waiting for him, the campaign opened. After reducing several strong places the important city of Carmona was invested. It was at first defended by its wali Abul Hassan, nephew of the Cid Abu Abdalla, prince of the Almohades, who reigned at Seville. But Abul Hassan, perceiving that the ulterior object of Ferdinand was Seville itself, left the defense of Carmona to one of his lieutenants and hastened to the assistance of his aged uncle. The inhabitants, who had agreed to surrender, if not relieved within six months, in consternation at the ruin of their fields, and the other increasing horrors of the war, at length constrained their alcade to send their submission to the Castilian king, who took possession of the place in 1246. All the fortresses on both banks of the Guadalquivir, from Jaen to the gates of Seville, either had already submitted to the Christians or were now subdued by them. For these successes Ferdinand was not a little indebted to his royal ally. The standard of Castile now floated on all the great cities of Andalusia except Seville, the reduction of which was the next great enterprise of the victor.

The Christian king had no sooner invested this great city than he perceived that so long as the mouth of the Guadalquivir was open to receive reinforcements from Africa there was no hope of its reduction. Having caused a fleet to be constructed in the ports of Biscay, he placed it under the command of his admiral, Raymond Boniface, who conducted it towards the port of St. Lucar, at the mouth of that river. The Moorish fleet from Africa occupied the station: the Christian admiral triumphed over the Mohammedans, and advanced up towards Seville, which was now invested by sea and land. Finally, after the siege had continued fifteen months, when Ferdinand had reinforced his army from all parts of his dominions, when the suburbs Triana and Alfarache were occupied by his troops, and the besieged consequently cut off from all communication without their walls, and when that worst of enemies, famine, began to rage among them, they consented to capitulate. The conditions, which were signed November 23d, 1248, were alike honorable to them and to the victor. Abul Hassan, the brave defender of the place, was offered lands and riches if he would reside either in Seville or any other city dependent on Castile. But 1248-1252 the prince was too proud to owe any obligation to the Christians; he embarked accordingly for Africa, accompanied by some thousands of the inhabitants. In December Ferdinand made a magnificent entry into this ancient and important city.

During this memorable siege Don Jayme of Aragon was no less eager than his brother of Castile to extend his conquests. He finished the subjugation of the kingdom of Valencia by the reduction of Xativa, which had revolted, and some other fortresses. Whether weary of his domination, which, however, does not appear to have been galling, or from hatred to Christianity, or from a wish to support, by their valor, the new kingdom of the south, most of the Mohammedans of Valencia bade an everlasting adieu to the delightful plains of that province, and, like their brethren of Seville, sought the hospitality of Aben Alhamar. In about two years afterwards the remaining portion were expelled, after a troublesome but fruitless resistance, by the bigoted conqueror.

On the capitulation of Seville, Aben Alhamar took leave of his liege lord and returned to Granada, his heart filled with sorrow at the unfortunate situation of Mohammedan Spain, especially when he considered that he himself had been an instrument, however unwilling, to bring about the catastrophe. As he alone remained of all the Moslem power, so he alone would be exposed to the hostility of the enemy. But in the worst conditions man is seldom deserted by hope. It was not to be expected that Castile would always have princes so vigilant and able as Ferdinand; under the successors of that monarch the integrity of Granada might be preserved,—perhaps her territories extended. But the Moorish king was too wise a man to place his chief dependence on the future. Knowing that the best—indeed the only—foundation of thrones is the prosperity of the people, he applied himself, with extraordinary zeal, to the promotion of that object. Nor was he less attentive to the defense than to the prosperity of his people. Besides the organization and improved discipline of the army, the kingdom was indebted to him for the erection of numerous fortresses both on the frontiers and in the interior.

So long as Ferdinand lived a good understanding subsisted between him and Aben Alhamar. Though the former subdued most of the towns between Seville and the Algarves,—though he even equipped a fleet to make war on the sovereign of Morocco, and obtained a signal triumph over the Moorish ships,—he did not 1252-1266 attempt to disturb his vassal in the new kingdom. But some time after the accession of Alfonso el Sabio, in A.H. 650 (A.D. 1252), this good understanding gave way to open hostility.

After the victory over Mohammed the army of Alfonso proceeded to chastise the insurgents of Algarve. In all these places success shone on the banners of the Christians. In the East the king of Aragon triumphed with equal glory. He subdued the whole of Murcia, on which Alfonso marched to take possession. In consternation at these disasters, Aben Alhamar sued for peace, which the Castilian king readily granted, on conditions even more favorable than the former had a right to expect. Instead of troops he was allowed to pay an annual tribute to his liege lord; and he was not bound to appear at any assembly of the cortes unless that assembly were held in a city of Andalusia. Murcia was thenceforward to be governed by a Mohammedan prince, nominated by the sovereign of Castile; and the walis, who had thrown off their allegiance to Mohammed, were to be urged to return to their duty by Alfonso; in the same manner the king of Granada engaged to persuade the Murcians to become submissive subjects. The lenity of these conditions, which were signed by the kings in A.H. 664 (A.D. 1266), can only be explained by the apprehension felt by the victor lest Mohammed should again introduce the Africans into Spain.

But this peace was short in its duration. Alfonso found so obvious an interest in fomenting the continued rebellion of the walis that he persuaded them still to hold out, and even required not only that Mohammed should not reduce them by force, but that he should recognize them as independent governors. The indignation of the Moorish king was unbounded, and he resolved to employ the greater rigor against the daring rebels. Accident favored his design. The vain ambition of Alfonso, who aspired to the imperial crown of Germany and who, for that unattainable object, had lavished immense sums, had greatly disgusted his people. Taking advantage of this general sentiment, a few factious nobles, at the head of whom was Don Felipe, the king’s brother, revolted against him, and, under the pretext of the public good, each aspired to his own individual interests. In their guilty ambition they did not scruple to apply to Moorish as well as Christian princes, to Aben Yussef of Morocco and Aben Alhamar of Granada, as well as to the king of Navarre, to bring the scourge of invasion on their 1272-1273 country and of profiting by the general disorder. These rebels having been summoned to lay down their arms by an assembly of the states at Burgos, under penalty of being severely punished, preferred exile to obedience, and sought refuge with the king of Granada. They even aided him in the attempt to reduce the revolted walis, who still defied the power of Aben Alhamar. Thus there was a prospect of another African invasion,—one which might have proved as fatal to Mohammed and the Christians as that of the Almoravides. The intelligence of this threatened calamity was brought to Spain by the infante Don Enrique, who, tired of his situation at the court of Tunis, and not without just suspicion that his life was in danger, returned to his brother. He severely censured the policy of Alfonso, who, by protecting the rebellious walis, was the indirect cause of this alliance between the two Mohammedan kings. Alarmed at his situation, the Christian monarch empowered his brother to negotiate, not only with his exiled subjects, whom he now wished to return, but with Aben Alhamar, his faithless vassal. Accordingly negotiations commenced: the insurgent walis, aware of the fact, resolved to strike a final blow before either their conclusion or the arrival of the Africans.

In 1272 the three walis, at the head of a considerable army, entered the plains of Granada. Incensed at this insulting audacity, Mohammed ordered his troops to assemble, and, placing himself at their head, issued from the gates. The evening of that day the king was seized by a sickness so severe that he was laid on a litter and conveyed back towards the capital. But that capital he was to see no more. So rapidly did the violence of his disorder increase that a pavilion was erected for him on the plain, where in a few hours he expired. Don Felipe and the Castilian nobles surrounded his dying couch and showed him proofs of sincere regard.

Mohammed II. followed successfully in the steps of his able father. On his accession he made no change in the ministry: he had no creatures of his own to provide for by displacing the faithful servants of the late reign. His conduct in this respect procured him the esteem of the nation,—of all but a few ambitious and fastidious men, who from disappointment first murmured and next joined the rebels of Malaga. To reduce these daring outlaws,—for such they literally were,—who had occasioned so much trouble to his father, was the first object of the new king. But though, with the aid of his Christian friends, Don Felipe and the other nobles 1273-1302 who had fled from the presence of Alfonso, he utterly defeated them near Antequera, they had only to throw themselves within the impregnable fortifications of Malaga and set him at defiance.

The short interval of tranquillity which followed permitted Mohammed to carry on his great design of embellishing his capital. The palace of the Alhambra, which his father commenced, and which by the labor of succeeding kings was destined to become the wonder of Spain, he greatly augmented and improved. His encouragement, too, of literature and the arts, the reception which he afforded to the learned of every country, his magnificent taste and profuse liberality, rendered Granada the favorite abode of science and the muses, the most cultivated city not of Spain, but of Europe.

The remaining portion of Mohammed’s reign offers little to occupy our notice. In 1295, availing himself of the troubles consequent on the death of Sancho,—and it was only during such troubles that the Moslems could contend with their more powerful neighbors,—he recovered the two last conquests of Sancho, and soon afterwards Algeziras, from the king of Morocco. He died on the eighth day of the moon Shafan, A.H. 701 (1301).

Mohammed III., Abu Abdalla, had many of the talents, without the good fortune, of his father. In his reign began the intestine wars which did not end until the scepter of Granada was transferred from the dynasty of the Beni Nassir to the sovereigns of Aragon and Castile.

The revolt of Almeria, occasioned by the intrigues of the king of Aragon, now distracted his attention. These disasters were for a moment balanced by the conquest of Ceuta, effected by his brother; but in the sequel the new conquest, with the fortress of Gibraltar, fell into the power of the Christians. Algeziras, too, would have submitted to the king of Castile,—now Ferdinand IV.,—had not the forbearance of that prince been purchased by the restoration of Quesada, Quadros, and Bedmar, and by 5,000 pistoles in gold. He was preparing to purchase in a similar manner the retreat of Don Jayme of Aragon, who had closely invested Almeria, and who defeated his army, when he was recalled to his capital by a misfortune still heavier—a conspiracy to dethrone him.

Mohammed hoped that his return to Granada would overawe the factious: it only made them openly break out. The populace, many of whom were gained by the money of the chief conspirators, 1302-1325 surrounded his palace, exclaiming, “Long live Nassir Abul Geiox!”—the name of his brother. At the same time another division of the mob proceeded to the house of his hagib, Abu Abdalla, which, as may be naturally expected, they plundered of everything valuable, except the library: this they committed to the flames. The minister, however, was not here, but in the king’s palace. To the palace the wretches accordingly repaired; and as no adequate force was brought to restrain them, they massacred the sentinels, penetrated into the royal apartments, and cut the virtuous hagib in pieces before the eyes of the king. They next plundered the royal residence, and at length concluded by ordering the mild, weak monarch to resign his throne. Mohammed obeyed. Having made a solemn act of renunciation, he retired to Almuñecar, his appointed residence, and his brother, Nassir, was declared king.

By 1313 Ismail ben Ferag, a prince of the same family, had compelled Nassir to resign the throne. Ferag was a rigorous observer of the external practices enjoined by the Koran, a brave soldier, and undaunted in reverses. He had soon to defend his frontiers against the two regents of Castile, the princes Pedro and Juan. In spite, however, of his efforts, several fortresses south of the Guadalquivir fell into the hands of the Christians, and the disaster would have been greater but for the jealousy entertained by Don Juan towards his brother, whose bravery was the theme of much admiration. The Moorish king failed in an attempt to surprise Gibraltar. It seems, indeed, as if the Moors had for a time forgotten their ancient valor or that they considered all resistance useless. A truce of four years followed, but as it was confined to the frontiers of Jaen and Cordova, it did not prevent the Moorish king from obtaining some successes on the side of Murcia. These successes, too trifling to be particularized, were entirely owing to the internal dissensions of Castile after the death of the two regents. On the expiration of the truce (1323) Ismail again menaced the southern frontier of his enemy. Both Baza and Martos, which he reduced, experienced the sternness of his character: in both he caused torrents of blood to flow, doubtless because he was exasperated at the bravery with which both, though thinly garrisoned, had withstood his assaults.

Ismail was assassinated and succeeded by his son, now Mohammed IV. The new king was remarkable for mild gravity, for magnificent taste, and sound judgment. It appears, however, that he 1325-1329 was not very much addicted to public affairs, for he abandoned the cares of government to an ambitious, tyrannical minister, who insulted the great and oppressed the people. This hagib was even powerful enough to procure the imprisonment of one brother of his master and the exile of another, and by his haughtiness of manner he so disgusted Othman, commander of the troops, that the latter raised the standard of revolt in Andalusia, proclaimed Mohammed ben Ferag, uncle of the reigning king, and by his emissaries prevailed on the Christians to invade the kingdom. Indignant at these disasters, the Moorish sovereign arrested and eventually beheaded his hagib; but it was too late to remedy them. The Castilians seized on Vera, Olbera, Pruna, and Ayamonte and defeated Mohammed in person, who vainly endeavored to arrest their progress or to crush the revolt of Othman. A still worse disaster was the arrival of a considerable African force in aid of Othman, who belonged to the royal family of Fez. They defeated the general of Mohammed, took Algeziras, Marbella, and Ronda, and effected a junction with the chief of the rebels.

Mohammed opened a campaign against the Christians, in which he resolved either to conquer or to bury himself under the ruins of his monarchy. Having, thanks to their civil troubles, reduced two fortresses, he laid siege to the more important one of Baena. It soon capitulated, and in one single campaign Mohammed was fortunate enough to recover all the fortresses he had lost, and even gained Gibraltar. Othman, too, returned to his duty and was pardoned. The year following, however (1329), though the last place was unsuccessfully besieged by King Alfonso XI., Mohammed was signally defeated by the Castilian monarch, and again deprived of a portion of the places he had recovered.

At this time, owing, probably, to the reappearance of the Castilian king on the field of battle, Mohammed applied for aid to the king of Fez, and an African army immediately passed the Straits. The new ally, when unsuspectingly received into Gibraltar, did not scruple to usurp the possession of that important fortress. Too weak to think of revenge, the king of Granada could only tamely acquiesce in the usurpation, and the Moors, the most perfidious of men, gloried in their prize. But perfidy was not the only thing Mohammed was to receive from his worthless allies. While he remained at Gibraltar he could not forbear reproaching the chiefs who had, in his opinion at least, so inadequately defended 1332-1340 the place, which, indeed, they had been on the point of surrendering. True to their character, which is repugnant alike to faith or gratitude, they vowed his destruction. They knew that he had promised to visit their sovereign Abu Hassan in Africa; that before his embarkation he would dismiss his army, except an escort of cavalry, and they waited for the opportunity of executing their murderous intention. No sooner were his troops on their return to Granada than assassins hourly watched his motions. One day (in 1332), when he left his camp to enjoy his favorite amusement of hunting, these assassins waylaid and killed him in a narrow defile, where his escort could not defend him. His incensed soldiers returned to the camp with the view of taking a signal revenge of their base allies, but the Africans shut the gates of the fortress and from the ramparts insulted and defied them.

Yussef Abul Hegiag, who at the time of his brother’s death was returning from Gibraltar with the army, was immediately raised to the throne.

The first care of this prince, who was at once the most pacific, the most patriotic, and the most enlightened of the Nassir dynasty since the days of its founder, was to procure a truce of four years from King Alfonso. This interval of hostilities he employed in reforming the administration of justice, in promoting the interests of religion and morals, in the encouragement of the mechanical and other useful arts, and in the cultivation of letters. His wise and paternal sway recalled the halcyon days of the third Abderahman.

Soon after the termination of the truce, Alfonso, having reduced his domestic enemies to submission, prepared for war: Yussef did the same. The fate of his brother did not prevent the latter from again seeking the alliance of the Africans, an army of whom, about the middle of the year 1340, landed on the coasts of Andalusia. Orders had been given to the Castilian admiral to intercept this armament. The consequences were fatal to the hopes of Alfonso, whose ships were almost all either taken or sunk. The Castilian king had now the mortification to see Andalusia overrun by African troops, and their king, Abul Hassan, master of the deep. The news of this victory was joyfully received at Granada, where it roused the citizens to greater eagerness for war. Yussef hastened to Algeziras to greet his ally. Here, having agreed on the plan of the ensuing campaign, they opened it by the siege of Tarifa, 1340 while detachments of their troops spread devastation to the gates of Xeres and Sidonia. The king now perceived that the time was arrived when he must either march to raise the siege or submit to see his provinces laid waste by a merciless foe. Accompanied by his ally, the king of Portugal, he advanced towards the camp of the besiegers, which they reached in October, A.D. 1340, as it lay encamped on the little River Salado. Having thrown supplies into the place, notwithstanding the opposition of the enemy, the two Christian kings next agreed that while Alfonso engaged the Africans the other should fall on the troops of Yussef.

On the morning of the battle, the most memorable that had occurred between the two powers since that which had annihilated the force of Africa on the plains of Tolosa, Alfonso having confessed and communicated from the hands of the archbishop of Toledo, passed the river at the head of his troops, and the struggle began. That the Christians must have performed prodigies of valor will readily be believed when it is considered that their number probably did not exceed a fourth part of the enemy’s forces. At midday the African tribes, exhausted by fatigue and discouraged by the severe loss they had sustained, began to give way. A seasonable charge by the garrison of Tarifa accelerated their flight. A considerable number indeed returned to defend the tent of their king, which the Christians were furiously assailing; but they were soon dissipated or added to the slaughtered heaps around; the royal pavilion was forced, and an immense plunder, with the favorite women of Abul Hassan, became the prize of the victors. During these momentous events Yussef nobly maintained the honor of the Andalusian name at the head of his cavalry, but seeing the Africans fleeing in every direction, and being equally disheartened by the severity of his own loss, he gave the signal for his troops to retreat. While Abul Hassan fled precipitately to Gibraltar, and thence without delay into Africa, to sustain the complaints and murmurs of his people, Yussef also fled by sea to Almuñecar, to join with his subjects in the universal mourning caused by this disaster. To ascertain the number of the slain is impossible, but it was doubtless immense; scarcely a family in Granada which had not to mourn the loss of a member. The submission of several fortresses in the vicinity followed this almost miraculous victory, and the ensuing year the destruction of the Mohammedan fleet was effected by that of the Christians, for 1342-1358 Alfonso had succeeded in forming a third from the wrecks of the two former, and from the ships which arrived from Portugal, Aragon, and Italy.

In 1342 Alfonso, who had greatly recruited his army, having resolved to profit by his successes, laid siege to Algeziras. Yussef hastened to relieve the place, but without success. Defeated by the Castilian army, disappointed in the succor he had expected from Africa, he had no alternative but to procure as favorable terms of capitulation as he could. The garrison and inhabitants were permitted to retire with their property; the fortress was immediately entered by the Christians, and a truce for ten years was granted to Yussef, on condition, if we may believe the Spanish chroniclers, of his doing homage to Alfonso. Before the expiration, however, of this period, the Castilian king invested Gibraltar, the possession of which would have enabled him to command the approaches into Andalusia, and destroy the communication between Spain and Africa. But a contagious disorder broke out among his troops; he himself became its victim, after a siege of six months, just as the place was reduced to extremities, and the Christians retired from the fatal spot. Though glad to be rid of so formidable a rival, Yussef honored alike the virtues and valor of Alfonso, whom he justly regarded as one of the greatest princes Spain had ever produced, and for whom both he and his court appeared in mourning.

Yussef did not long survive his illustrious contemporary. In 1352 he was stabbed, while at prayers in the mosque, by a madman. His character has been already described; but it would be impossible to recount all the acts which endeared him to his people.

Mohammed V., the eldest son of Yussef, had virtues worthy of any throne, but they did not exempt him from the curse of rebellion. One of his first acts was to confer on his brother Ismail, to whom he bore an affection truly paternal, a magnificent palace near the Alhambra. But the mother of Ismail had long planned the elevation of her son, and on the assassination of Yussef had seized a great portion of the royal treasures, with which she labored to form a powerful party.

But such was the love borne to Mohammed and the tranquillity of his reign that the conspirators, hopeless of the opportunity sought, resolved to accomplish their purpose by open violence. On the 28th day of the moon Ramasan A.H. 760 (1358), one hundred 1358-1360 of the most resolute among them scaled, one night, the palace of Mohammed, descended through the roof, and lay hid until midnight. On a signal being given, they rushed down the grand staircase and along the passages,—a sword in one hand, a torch in the other,—raising loud cries and putting to death every individual they met. At the same moment a more numerous body from without overwhelmed and massacred the guard, while a third proceeded to the house of the hagib, where they massacred him, his son, and his domestics, and laid hands on everything they could carry away. Astonished at the ample treasures which they found in the palace, they forgot for a time their original purpose, and eagerly grasped the spoil. The opportunity was not lost: one of Mohammed’s women speedily clad him in the vestments of a female slave, descended with him to the garden, and both succeeded in gaining the open country. Before daybreak he reached Guadix, the inhabitants of which received him with affection and served him with fidelity. Soon after sunrise Abu Said and his accomplices placed Ismail on horseback, led him through the streets of Granada, and proclaimed him Prince of the Faithful. As usual, the mob hailed the new ruler with deafening shouts.

When the conspirators saw that Mohammed had not only escaped, but found zealous adherents, they endeavored to strengthen themselves by an alliance with Pedro the Cruel, king of Leon and Castile, as the condition of which they offered the sovereignty of Granada. Pedro readily accepted the condition. Mohammed next applied for his aid, and received the same promises: he was evidently waiting to draw his own advantages from both. The dethroned monarch next proceeded to Fez (1359), and prevailed on the king of that place to arm in his behalf. In the meantime, Ismail found his usurped throne surrounded by danger and difficulty. Domineered over by Abu Said, the instrument of his elevation, the latter soon plotted to dethrone this phantom of a king. He had little difficulty in persuading the populace to surround the palace, and demand not merely the deposition, but the head, of Ismail. The impotent king fled to the fortress of the Alhambra, but being induced to risk the fate of a battle, he fell into the hands of his enemy, who caused him to be assassinated. The people then proclaimed Abu Said.

In 1360 Mohammed disembarked at Gibraltar, followed by an army of Africans, and rapidly advanced on Granada. The usurper 1360-1408 endeavored to arrest his progress, but the number of Africans was so great that his partisans dared not risk a battle.

The remainder of Mohammed’s life was troubled by one unimportant revolt only, which was speedily repressed. In the wars between Pedro and Enrique, in which the latter triumphed, he furnished some thousands of troops to the former, and on one occasion at least took a personal share in the war, less for the sake of his ally than to profit by the dissensions of the Christians, and recover some of the conquests lost by his immediate predecessors. He took and ruined Algeziras, but was induced to make peace with King Enrique. Having devoted his days to the welfare of his people, he died, 1390, lamented by all.

Yussef II. (Abu Abdalla) commenced his reign by imitating alike his father’s policy and virtues, by renewing the truce with, perhaps doing homage to, the crown of Castile, and by assiduously endeavoring to promote the happiness of his people. Scarcely, however, was he seated on his throne when he narrowly escaped falling a victim to the rebellion of his younger son Mohammed. That prince, jealous of the rights attached to the primogeniture of his brother, endeavored not only to exclude that brother, but to hurl his parent from the throne. The Moorish king did not long survive this event; as he was still young, his death was, as usual, attributed to some extraordinary cause.

No sooner had Yussef expired than Mohammed VI., by means of his partisans, seized on the scepter, to the prejudice of his elder brother. It does not appear that Yussef ben Yussef made any attempt to enforce his rights. All his ambition was to lead a quiet life, and he probably felt little regret on being exiled to the fortress of Salobrena with his wives and domestics. Mohammed had scarcely retired to his capital when he was seized by an illness which he felt would be fatal. His end corresponded with his stormy and unprincipled life.

Yussef III., who had passed thirteen years in that best of schools, adversity, became a wise and paternal sovereign, averse to war abroad and cruelty at home, and placing his chief happiness in the weal of his people. But war he could not at first avoid, because he refused to acknowledge himself the vassal of Castile. Its issue by no means corresponded with his wishes. If he recovered Zahara, he lost Antequera. If he had the glory of giving a new sovereign to Fez in the person of the Cid Abu Said, brother 1414-1429 to the reigning king of that place, who had sought his protection, he was obliged to purchase peace from the two formidable Christians. From this time (1414) to his death that peace was uninterrupted. He died in 1423, and with him ended the tranquillity of his country.

Mohammed (Muley) VII. was surnamed El Hayzari, or the Left-handed,—whether because he really used that hand in preference, or on account of his ill-fortune, is uncertain. Of a haughty and overbearing character, he was little fitted to rule a people so turbulent as those of Granada. Of all the wise counsels which he had received from his father he followed only one—the preservation of peace with the Christians. Hence he became not merely unpopular, but so odious that the people would have dethroned him soon after his accession had not they been restrained by the prudent gravity of the hagib Yussef ben Zeragh, one of the most influential sheiks of the kingdom. At length, when Mohammed had prohibited some favorite public diversions, the spirit of insubordination broke out, the Alhambra was invested, the king escaped from the city to the court of his kinsman, the sovereign of Tunis, and his cousin Mohammed el Zaquir was raised to the vacant dignity. But Mohammed VIII. was not long to enjoy his usurped power. Though he restored the favorite amusements of the people, he labored to annihilate the party of the lawful sovereign, and by so doing created many powerful enemies. Not a few sought an asylum at the court of Don Juan, the young king of Castile, whom they interested in the cause of the exiled king. Juan wrote to the king of Tunis in favor of Mohammed, whose restoration he promised to aid by force of arms. This encouragement was not thrown away on the exile. Accompanied by 500 African horse he passed the strait, landed in Andalusia, was joined not only by the Christians, but by the very partisans of El Zaquir, and was triumphantly borne to the capital without a single engagement. The usurper was besieged in the Alhambra, was surrounded by his own soldiers, and beheaded, and El Hayzari was restored.

The web of Mohammed’s singular fate was woven with the most extraordinary alternations of fate. Three times was he dethroned. A respite of some years, indeed, was allowed him before his final degradation—if that can be called a respite, where he could enjoy no peace within or without. Every season his kingdom was laid waste by the Christian governors of the frontiers, who, though Castile was 1445 again the prey of civil dissensions, were not the less eager for the plunder of the Moors. Their devastations reduced the peaceable inhabitants to the greatest misery. A nephew, Mohammed ben Osmin, seeing the increasing unpopularity of his uncle, took great pains to increase the animosity of the nobles and to gain the populace by that never-failing argument, gold. When his plans were sufficiently matured, he raised a commotion among the people, seized first on all the forts of the city, and soon on the person of Mohammed, whom he consigned to a close prison. Thus did this unfortunate prince, in 1445, disappear forever from the stage of history.

Mohammed IX. (Ben Osmin) was immediately proclaimed by his own partisans, but many were hostile to his elevation. Abdelbar, who had served with much credit the office of hagib under the dethroned king, retired with a considerable number of the discontented to Montefrio. To attempt the restoration of that prince, Abdelbar knew would be vain, and he turned his thoughts towards Mohammed ben Ismail, another nephew of the previous king. He wrote to that prince with the offer of the sovereignty, but advised him to keep the project secret from the Castilian king, lest his departure should be opposed. Aben Ismail, however, preferred the more open and honorable part of acquainting his host with the whole business, and Don Juan, so far from opposing his departure, sent express orders to the governors of the frontier fortresses to assist him in his enterprise. No sooner was Don Juan able to send a reinforcement to Aben Ismail than that prince marched against his rival, Ben Osmin, whom he signally defeated, and whom he pursued towards the capital. Hitherto the martial success of the latter had maintained him in his post in defiance of the popular discontent, but now that victory had deserted his standard, his former adherents left him. He called the citizens to arms; their silence showed that his reign was near its end. Before his fall, however, he resolved to be revenged on them. Under the pretext of consulting the safety of the city, he convoked the heads of the people, such especially as he knew were hostile to him, and as they successively arrived at the Alhambra they were seized and executed by the soldiers of his guard. After this exploit, so characteristic of a Moorish prince, he secretly left the place, plunged into the mountains, and forever retired from public life.

Mohammed X., the son of Ismail, was proclaimed without opposition. His first care was to send ambassadors and presents1460-1478 to the new king of Castile, Enrique IV., and solicit a renewal of former treaties. But Enrique, who had other views than those of his predecessor, instead of complying with the request, entered the kingdom at the head of 14,000 horse and 20,000 foot. This force would have annihilated any army which Aben Ismail could have brought into the field, and the Moors accordingly retired before it, sometimes, however, sending detachments of cavalry to impede its advance by harassing skirmishes. In vain did Aben Ismail apply for a truce; the partisan warfare still raged, sometimes, indeed, to the temporary triumph of his generals, but always eventually to the permanent advantage of the enemy. In 1460 Archidona and Gibraltar were reduced, and the Moorish troops everywhere defeated. In consternation at the gloomy aspect of affairs, Aben Ismail now submitted to hold his tenure as a fief of Castile and to pay a tribute annually of 12,000 pistoles in gold. That this tribute was punctually paid until his death, which happened in 1466, may be inferred from the harmony that continued to subsist between the two states.

Muley Ali Abul Hassan, the elder son of the deceased king, succeeded to a throne which required alike the highest valor and the ablest policy to maintain erect. The first three years of his reign were sufficiently tranquil, but in 1469 the wali of Malaga not only revolted against his authority, but did homage for the government to the king of Castile. The incensed Abul Hassan, knowing that Enrique was occupied in quenching the flames of civil war, made several destructive irruptions into the territories of his superior; but however he might lay waste the frontier, he was unable to make any impression on the compact, powerful kingdom of Castile. Though in 879 (A.D. 1474) he obtained a truce from the new sovereigns of Castile, Isabella and Ferdinand, who were too busily occupied in opposing the partisans of the Princess Juana to think of extending their possessions in the south, he had little reason for self-congratulation.

In 1478 the truce of Castile expired, and Abul Hassan applied for its renewal. The Christian sovereigns at first required the usual condition of vassalage and tribute, which, as they were still occupied in their domestic wars, he refused to grant: they were then compelled to consent purely and simply to the renewal; 1479-1483 but they vowed vengeance at a future period, as policy, enlightened in that age, taught them that, so long as the Moors were suffered to domineer in any portion of the country, their subjects of the frontier could know neither security nor peace. In 1479, on the death of Don Juan II., king of Aragon, Ferdinand succeeded to that throne, and the two powerful states of Aragon and Castile were forever incorporated. This memorable event, by consolidating the peace of the Christians, was the signal for the destruction of the Mohammedan government. Abul Hassan prepared for the approaching storm. Two years later, while the Christian sovereigns were putting an end to the troubles raised by the king of Portugal, he suddenly appeared in Andalusia and arrived before the fortress of Zahara, which he knew was feebly garrisoned. The night was dark, the wind high, and the rain descended in torrents,—circumstances which, by inspiring a fatal security to the inhabitants, were highly favorable to the assailants. They silently scaled the walls and took possession of the place before the surprised Christians could dream of defense. Having strengthened the fortifications and confided their defense to a numerous garrison, he returned triumphant to Granada.

On reaching Granada the king was not surprised to find that the prime movers of the rebellion were his wife, Zoraya, and his son, Abu Abdalla. He confined both in a fortress. To recall the fidelity of his subjects by some signal exploit, the king departed to raise the siege of Loxa, which the Christians had invested, and succeeded in forcing their army, which, however, was only 16,000 strong, to retire. On his return he took and ruined Cañete and reduced the inhabitants to slavery. But this triumph was counterbalanced by the intelligence that his rebellious son Abu Abdalla had seized on the Alhambra and been recognized by the whole population of the capital. He retired to Malaga, which some time before had returned to its obedience; Guadix and Baza also declared for him.

By perversity of chance the partisans of each side failed him, and united for Abdalla el Zagai, who succeeded, and was not unqualified for the station to which he was thus unexpectedly raised; but the individuals in whom that elevation originated must have been blind, indeed, not to perceive that it was a measure which must inevitably add to the existing anarchy. Abu Abdalla had still some determined followers, and as he was in possession of the Albaycin, 1483-1488 one of the best fortified places of the capital, he showed no disposition to concede his pretensions to his uncle, any more than he had shown it to his father. In vain did the less ambitious or more prudent uncle propose the division of the supreme authority, that both might turn their combined forces against the invaders. As compromise was impossible, each endeavored to fortify his pretensions by alliances,—the former with the walis of Almeria and Guadix, the latter with the Christians. Ferdinand naturally espoused the cause of his vassal, to whom he dispatched some troops; he next took the field in person, under the pretext of succoring Abu Abdalla. He besieged and took Alora and Setenil, and defeated the Moors in two partial engagements. In 1485 he caused Ronda, Marbella, Cahir, Cartama, etc., to be invested at the same time. On the reduction of these important places, Moclin, Velez-Malaga, and Loxa were besieged. Abdalla el Zagal hastened to relieve Moclin, and succeeded; but at Velez-Malaga, the siege of which he also endeavored to raise, he was utterly defeated and compelled to retreat. On his return to Granada, however, the inhabitants, incensed at his failure, refused to admit him, and he retired to Guadix. Nor did better fate attend Abu Abdalla, who, having thrown himself into Loxa, was constrained to capitulate.

The conquest or capitulation of all the fortified places in its neighborhood had isolated the important city of Malaga, the possession of which now became the great object of the Castilians. 1488-1491 The wali of the place, a kinsman of El Zagal, had foreseen the storm, and prepared for it by hiring auxiliaries from Africa and laying in considerable supplies of provisions; the population, too, was very numerous, and animated by hatred of the Christian name. Hence the siege continued for some months to baffle the efforts of King Ferdinand in person, and even of Queen Isabella, who repaired to the camp of her husband with the determination of remaining there until the city owned their joint sway. The submission of the city soon followed a fruitless effort of fanaticism. There is, however, some difference between the accounts of the Moors and Christians as to the chief result. The latter say that the place surrendered unconditionally, and that Isabella honorably distinguished herself by interceding for the inhabitants, who were allowed to retain their property, to remain or retire where they pleased; while the former assert that the Christian troops were introduced through the treachery of a Moor and that the place was delivered up to pillage.

The western fortresses of the kingdom being in the power of the Christians, Ferdinand had now two plans before him for attaining his great object: he could either at once fall on the capital or begin with the reduction of the eastern strongholds. He chose the latter; he knew that, if he triumphed over Abdalla el Zagal, who possessed Guadix, Baza, Almeria, Vera, etc., he should have little difficulty in dethroning the fallen Abu Abdalla. Velez el Rubio, Vera, Mujacar, etc., opened their gates on the first summons. But the Christians failed before Huescar, Baza, and Taberna, and had the worst in more than one skirmish. In 1488 Ferdinand again hastened to the field at the head of 50,000 foot and 12,000 horse, resolved with this formidable force to deprive the Moors of all hopes of a successful resistance. Under the pretense that his arms were to be directed against only the enemy of his ally, he hoped to divide still further the Moorish power. He succeeded in his purpose: the people of Granada looked on, not indeed with indifference, but certainly without much anxiety for themselves, while their ally marched against the places still held for El Zagal. Abu Abdalla, however, was aware of the result; he even purchased a temporary security by consenting not only to abandon his uncle, but to receive into Granada itself a Christian garrison; in other words, to deliver that capital, after the destruction of El Zagal, into the hands of Ferdinand. In return he was 1491 to receive ample domain, under the title of vassalage from his feudal superior. Though the conditions of the alliance were secret, El Zagal, convinced that he should now have to encounter the whole power of the Castilians, prepared for a vigorous defense. His kinsman, the cid Yahia, with 10,000 men, he sent to Baza, which he rightly judged would be one of the first places to be invested by Ferdinand.

Having reduced Xucar, the Christian monarch, as had been foreseen, laid siege to Baza. Purchena Taberna, Almuñecar, Salobrena, and some other towns of the Alpujarras were eager to follow the example of Baza, so that the once proud kingdom of the Moors was almost literally confined to the walls of the capital.

Nothing now remained but to complete the overthrow of the Moorish power by the conquest of Granada, and in the spring of A.D. 1491 Ferdinand invested this great city with 50,000 foot and 10,000 horse. That the siege would be long and bloody was to be expected from the strength of the fortifications and the fanaticism of the people. Some time, indeed, elapsed before the place could be effectually invested; convoys of provisions were frequently received in spite of Ferdinand’s vigilance, and in the sorties which from time to time took place the advantage was not always on the side of the assailants. The petty engagements so thinned the Christian host that the king at length forbade them; and to protect his camp against the daring irruptions of the Moors he surrounded it with thick walls and deep ditches. The enemy now saw that he was resolute in the reduction of the place, however tardy that reduction might prove. In despair at this politic expedient, Muza, the Moorish general, a man of great valor and ability, persuaded his followers to join him in storming the Christian entrenchments. But the Christians did not wait to be stormed. Advancing, they utterly routed the Mussulmans and cut them off from their base of supplies. In the face of threatened famine Abu Abdalla hastily summoned a council to hear the sentiments of his chief subjects on the deplorable state of affairs. All agreed that the camp, the city, and policy of Ferdinand were but too indicative of his unalterable determination, and of the fate which ultimately, nay soon, awaited them; that the people were worn out by abstinence and fatigue; and that, as the necessity was imperative, an attempt should be made to procure favorable terms of capitulation from the Castilian. The hagib, Abul Cassem, a 1492 venerable old man, proceeded to the Christian camp, and on the 22d day of Muharram, 897,^[12] conditions were agreed on between them for the city’s total subjugation. The conditions were laid by Abdul Cassem before the council of Abu Abdalla and were regarded with mournful solemnity. Many of the members were naturally and deeply affected at the prospect before them. Muza advised them rather to perish than to surrender, and seeing his expostulations unavailing, he left the hall of deliberation, took his horse and arms, issued from the gate Elvira, and was heard of no more. After his departure, Abu Abdalla said, “It is not courage that we want, but the means of resistance; ill fate has shed its baneful influence over the kingdom, and has unnerved us all. What resource is left us? The storm has destroyed all!” The justice of the royal complaint was acknowledged by all except the lowest populace, whose fanaticism would probably have buried the city in ruins had not the king, with the advice of his sheiks, entreated Ferdinand to take possession of the city somewhat earlier than had been stipulated—an entreaty to which the Castilian king lent a willing ear.

It was on the fourth day of the moon Rabia I.,^[13] at the dawn of day, that Abu Abdalla sent his family and treasures into the Alpujarras, while he himself, accompanied by fifty horsemen, rode out to meet Ferdinand, whom he saluted as his liege lord. The keys of the city were delivered to the latter by Abul Cassem; the Christians entered and their standards were speedily hoisted on the towers of the Alhambra and all the fortresses in the place. The fourth day following, Ferdinand and his royal consort made a solemn entry into the city, which they made the seat of an archbishopric, and in which they abode several months. As for the feeble Abu Abdalla, he had not courage to re-enter it. He did not long remain in Spain. Like his uncle, he sold his domains and retired to Africa, where he died in battle, defending the throne of his kinsman the king of Fez. Two princes of the family, Yahia and his son, remained in the Peninsula, where they embraced the Christian religion and were laden with honors and wealth by their new sovereign.

The conquest of Granada was indeed the overthrow of the Moors in Spain. The genius of that people had its finest flowering 1492 and expression in that kingdom, with Granada as its capital. Wonderful works of architecture and engineering, and the most delicate products of art and industry served to show the high civilization to which this richest kingdom of the Moors attained, and their influence spread through the channels of trade to almost all the markets of the world. The splendid city of Granada was surrounded by a strong wall and crowned with more than a thousand towers. With the snow peaks of the Sierra Nevada rising at its back and the fertile plain of Vega stretched below, well may the sight have brought streaming tears to the eyes of the exiled Abu Abdalla, as he looked back from the road to the Alpujarras. The Spaniards still commemorate the scene of the sovereign’s farewell and name the rocky height El Ultimo Sospiro del Moro—“the last sigh of the Moor.”

Chapter IX

THE ASTURIAS, LEON, AND CASTILE. 713-1230

The more zealous or more independent Christians who, after the triumphs of Tarik and Musa, were dissatisfied with the submission of Theodomir, gradually forsook their habitations in the south to seek a more secure asylum amidst the northern mountains of their country. They knew that in the same hills the sacred fire of liberty had been preserved, in defiance of Carthaginian, or Roman, or Goth; and they felt that to them was now confided the duty of reviving its expiring embers. At first, indeed, the number which resorted to these solitudes was few, and actuated by the mere hope of individual safety; but as the Mohammedan excesses became more frequent and intolerable, as neither prompt submission nor the solemnity of treaties could guarantee the unhappy natives from plunder, persecution, and destruction, and, consequently, as the number of refugees increased, the possibility of a combined defense on a larger scale, and even of laying the foundation of an infant state, was eagerly indulged.

At the time this unequivocal demonstration of defiance was made by the Christians, Alhaur, the Mohammedan governor, was in Gaul; but one of his generals, Alxaman, accompanied, as we are informed, by the renegade archbishop Oppas, and obedient to his orders, assembled a considerable force, and hastened into the Asturias to crush the rising insurrection. Arriving at the foot of the Asturian mountains without obstacle, the Arabian general did not hesitate to plunge into the defiles. Passing along the valley of Cangas, he came to the foot of Mount Anseva, near the River Sella.^[14] On the heights of Covadunga and in the cavern of St. Mary a small but resolute band under Pelayo was concealed, waiting for the attack. Loath to run the risk of one where the advantage of position was so much in favor of the Christians, Alxaman 713-739 is said to have dispatched Oppas to Pelayo, representing to that prince the inutility of resistance and the advantage of instant submission. The refusal of the Asturian, who well knew his position and what stout hearts he commanded, was followed by the ascent of the Arabs up the steep acclivity. But their consternation could be equalled only by their surprise when huge rocks and stones came thundering down on their dense ranks, by which they were precipitated into the narrow valley below. The destruction did not end here: it met those who attempted to ascend the opposite slope. Many thousands were crushed beneath the vast fragments, and the rest would speedily have shared the same fate had they not precipitately fled by the way they had advanced. The confusion attending this retrograde movement was turned to good account by the Christians, who now issued from their hiding-places and inflicted a terrific loss on the fugitives. These memorable events fixed the destiny of the infant kingdom; they were the first of a succession of triumphs which, though sometimes tardy and often neutralized by accident, ended in the final expulsion of the invaders from the Peninsula. The Asturias were now left in the undisturbed possession of the Christians, nor were the Mohammedans for some years in any disposition to assail their formidable neighbors.

The results of these victories were highly favorable to the Christians, who began (in the Asturias) to found towns, to repair such as had suffered, and to cultivate the ground with hope. The remainder of Pelayo’s reign is unknown; it was probably passed in peace. He died in 737 and was buried in the church of St. Eulalia, at Congas de Onis. This hero is entitled to the grateful reverence of posterity. His patriotism, his valor, his religious fervor must have been unrivaled, or he would scarcely have ventured, with a mere handful of men, to stem the torrent of Mohammedan invasion. Above all, he appears to great advantage when contrasted with Theodomir, who, however amiable in private life, and even courageous in the battlefield, cannot escape our censure for tamely submitting to the hateful and despicable yoke of the Arabs.

Of Favila, the son and successor of Pelayo, nothing is known beyond his brief reign and tragic death. In 739 he was killed by a boar while hunting in the neighborhood of the church of the Holy Cross, which he had founded.

Alfonso I., surnamed the Catholic, a son-in-law of Pelayo, descended, we are told, from Leovigild, was the next prince on739-783 whom the suffrages of the Asturians fell.

But Alfonso was not merely a conqueror: the colonies which he established, the towns which he founded or restored, the churches which he built or repaired, are justly adduced as signal monuments of his patriotism and religious zeal. Hence the appellation of Catholic—an appellation which continues at the present day to distinguish his successors. His end, which happened in 757, corresponded with his life.

Fruela I., the eldest son of Alfonso, is represented as stern in disposition, as cruel in his habits, and valiant in war.

The harsh character of Fruela, joined perhaps to the natural inconstancy of man, led to a revolt in Galicia and Biscay, but he succeeded in repressing both, and he inflicted a heavy punishment on the rebels. The man, indeed, who with his own hands shed the blood of an innocent brother, was not likely to spare guilty subjects. But in the end, finding his yoke intolerable, or perhaps resolved no longer to obey a fratricide, his people rose and slew him, after a reign of somewhat more than eleven years, in A.D. 768.

Of Aurelio, the cousin and successor of Fruela, nothing is known, but that, according to the Christian writers, he lived in peace with the Moors, and that, after a struggle, he reduced to obedience the slaves and freedmen who had revolted against their lords. But the Mohammedans will not allow that he thus remained unmolested by their great king Abderahman. They assert that, on his endeavoring to evade the tribute covenanted with Fruela, he was at least twice defeated by two Arabian generals, and that he esteemed himself fortunate in being able to procure peace on the same condition of vassalage. As little is known of Silo, son-in-law of Alfonso I. and brother of Aurelio, who was elected king in 774. That he continued at peace with the Arabs is certain, but on what terms is doubtful; the dark expression in the monk of Albelda, that Spain enjoyed peace with the Moors through his mother (Spania ab causam matris pacem habuit), would lead us to infer that there was some closer relation between the royal families of the two nations than is generally supposed. In his reign, as in that of Fruela, the Galicians revolted, and were reduced to obedience. But the most memorable event of this period is the arrival of 783-791 Charlemagne, whose invasion, dubious alike in its pretensions and result, has been sufficiently detailed. Silo died in 783.

Mauregato, the bastard son of Alfonso I., who usurped the crown to the prejudice of his nephew Alfonso, son of Fruela, would also descend almost unnoticed to posterity were it not for the famous tribute ascribed to him. Despairing of a successful opposition to the party of the young prince, he is said to have triumphed by the aid of Abderahman, and that either through gratitude or in compliance with the demand of his ally, he agreed to pay thenceforth an annual tribute—not of money, or horses, or arms, but of a hundred damsels (all to be distinguished for beauty) to ornament the harems of the misbelievers. His memory, however, does not deserve to be charged with so odious a stain. But in any case the usurper would well deserve the ill repute in which his name is mentioned by posterity.

On the death of Mauregato, in 788, Bermudo I. was elected to the throne. The nobles who were known to have been concerned in the murder of Fruela were naturally desirous to exclude Alfonso, in the apprehension that he would seek to revenge that deed of darkness. Bermudo, too, the nephew of Alfonso the Catholic, was the only remaining prince of the race of Recared, and though in holy orders, and averse to the regal office, it was not only forced on him, but he was in a manner constrained to marry. He did not long remain king: whether through disgust with the dignity, or through a conviction that it would be better filled by his nephew, or, more probably, from conscientious scruples, he resolved to separate from his wife, and to abdicate in favor of that prince. He had little difficulty in persuading his nobles to acknowledge Alfonso, as the mild disposition of the latter seemed to them a sufficient guarantee that revenge would be sacrificed to policy.

Alfonso II., better known as Alfonso the Chaste, began to reign in 791. That he was not unworthy the partiality of his uncle or the affection of his people appears both from the victories he obtained over the Mohammedans and from his patriotic rule. Yet he was doomed to experience the ordinary ingratitude of men; for, not long after his accession, he was forcibly seized and confined in a monastery, not by a small party, but by a formidable army of rebels. That confinement, however, appears to have been of short duration; some of his faithful vassals hastened to his retreat and brought him in triumph to Oviedo, where he established his 791-850 court. That city, which now became the capital of his kingdom, he enlarged and embellished: many of the edifices erected by him were distinguished for equal magnificence and extent. The church of San Salvador, in particular, which occupied thirty years in building, is a well-known and justly admired monument of his taste and religious zeal.

Though the reign of Alfonso exceeded fifty years in duration, it contains very little to strike the attention, if we except his wars with the Mohammedans. This surname of the Chaste has procured him great veneration, so much, indeed, that his not being canonized seems to have surprised not a few of his countrymen.

In 842 Ramiro I., son of King Bermudo the Deacon, was elected successor to Alfonso. As at the time of his election the prince happened to be absent on a matrimonial excursion, one Nepotiano, an Asturian count and a kinsman of the deceased king, aspired to the crown. Ramiro hastened to vindicate his right; his competitor also collected followers; a battle ensued, to the favor of the rightful sovereign; Nepotiano fled, was overtaken, deprived of his eyes, and shut up in a monastery.

This king was no less successful against his foreign than his domestic enemies. The Scandinavian vikings, after ravaging the coasts of France, appeared before Gijon, in the Asturias, but finding the place too well defended to be assailed with impunity, they proceeded round the coast to Coruña. There they landed and committed their usual atrocities, until the Asturian king hastened to oppose them. Being defeated by him and seventy of their vessels burned, they proceeded onwards, doubled Cape St. Vincent, and, as already related, inflicted heavy mischief on the Mohammedan possessions of the south. By Sebastian of Salamanca he is said to have been twice victorious also over the Saracens.

Ordoño I., son of the deceased king, ascended the Asturian throne at an early age. One of his first objects was to fortify his frontier places against the incursions of the Mohammedans and to repeople such as had lain waste since the time of Alfonso I. Leon, Amaya, Astorga, and Tuy were among the number. In his frequent contests with the enemy he was almost uniformly successful. Ordoño, at the close of his reign, was undisturbed master of the whole country, from the Bay of Biscay to Salamanca.

Under Ordoño the Normans again landed on the Galician coast, but being defeated by Count Pedro, governor of the province, 866-910 they proceeded to the more fertile towns of Andalusia: their devastations have been already recorded.

Alfonso III., the eldest son of the deceased Ordoño, ascended the throne in 866. The beginning of his reign, like that of some of his predecessors, was troubled through the ill-fortune of an elective government. His kingdom was invaded, and his throne was seized by a count of Galicia, and he was even compelled to flee into Alava. By the senate of Oviedo, however, the usurper was assassinated, and the rightful monarch triumphantly escorted to his capital.

During the late reigns the people of Navarre had been among the most frequent to revolt: they were in all cases instigated by the Franks, who constantly aspired to a permanent settlement south of the Pyrenees, and who were anxious to repair the ill-success of their arms under their great emperor and his descendants. Since the time Charlemagne had heroically destroyed the fortifications of Christian Pampeluna, the Carlovingian race had regarded the whole of Navarre as their rightful heritage, and labored, often with success, to procure the homage of the local governors. To chastise both count and people was a constant task for the Asturian kings; but Alfonso found that these domestic contests distracted his attention from the war with the Mohammedans.

But Alfonso’s victories over the Mohammedans almost atoned for his imprudent policy with regard to Navarre,—if, indeed, that policy was not the compulsory result of circumstances. From 870 to 901 his contests with the enemy,—whether with the kings of Cordova or their rebellious vassals, who aimed at independence,—were one continued series of successes. His last exploit at this period was the destruction, in the battle of Zamora, of a formidable army, led by the rebel Calib of Toledo, whose ally, Abul Cassem, fell on the field.

But this great prince, if glorious in his contests with the natural enemy, was unable to contend with his rebellious barons, headed by his still more rebellious son Garcia. The latter was seized by a detachment of the royal troops and consigned to a fortress, where he was forced to remain three years. At the prospect of a civil war, the king no longer wished to uphold his just rights. Having convoked an assembly at Bordes, in the Asturias, in 910, he solemnly renounced the crown in favor of Don Garcia, who passed at once from a prison to a throne. To his second son Ordoño he granted 910-923 the government of Galicia; and another, Fruela, he confirmed in that of Oviedo. These concessions were, doubtless, extorted from him,—a fact that does not speak much for the firmness of his domestic administration: he appears, like many other princes of his country, to have been great chiefly in the field of battle.

Alfonso did not long survive his abdication. He died at Zamora, at the close of the year 910, leaving behind him the reputation of one of the most valiant, magnanimous, and pious sovereigns that Spain ever produced.

Of Garcia, the successor of Alfonso III., little more is known than that he transferred the seat of sovereignty from Oviedo to Leon, made a successful irruption into the territories of the misbelievers, and died in 914. The nobles and bishops of the kingdom—henceforth called the kingdom of Leon—having met, according to custom, for the purpose of nominating a successor, placed the royal crown on the head of Ordoño, brother of the deceased Garcia.

Ordoño II., under the reigns both of his father and brother, had distinguished himself against the Mohammedans, and he resolved that no one should say his head was weakened by a crown. In 917 he advanced towards the Guadiana, stormed the town of Alhange, which is above Merida, put the garrison to the sword, made the women and children captives, and gained abundant spoil. With the wealth thus acquired he founded the magnificent cathedral of Leon. In a subsequent expedition he ruined Talavera and defeated a Mohammedan army near its walls. Indignant at these disasters, Abderahman III. assembled a powerful army, not only from all parts of Mohammedan Spain, but from Africa; but this immense host was also defeated, under the walls of San Pedro de Gormaz. Nearly three years afterwards, in 921, Ordoño was in turn defeated in the battle of Val de Junquera, whither he had advanced to aid the king of Navarre, and where two of his prelates, Dulcidio of Salamanca and Hermogio of Tuy, were made prisoners. He took his revenge for this disaster by an irruption into Andalusia, which he laid waste from the Navas de Tolosa to within a day’s journey of Cordova.

Ordoño did not long survive the triumph over his rebellious subjects. He died in 923, immediately after his third marriage with a princess of Navarre.

Fruela II., brother of Ordoño, was elected in preference to the 925-950 children of the deceased king—probably because they were too young to be intrusted with the cares of government. Of him we know little more than that he died after a reign of fourteen months, and that his premature death was considered by the chroniclers as a righteous punishment for his banishing, without cause, the bishop of Leon, and persecuting, with fatal malignity, two innocent brothers of that prelate. The cause of his enmity was the zeal which these persons had shown in favor of Alfonso, the eldest son of Ordoño.

Alfonso IV., who succeeded, in 925, in preference to the sons of Fruela II., is represented as a prince more addicted to piety than to ambition. In the sixth year of his reign he renounced the vanities of the world, resigned the scepter into the hands of his brother Ramiro, and retired into the monastery of Sahagun.

Ramiro II., who ascended the throne in 930, is chiefly distinguished for his wars with the misbelievers,—wars which have been already noticed as far as they could be discriminated amid the conflicting accounts of the two nations. One of his victories, that of Simancas, fought in 939, seems, in many of its circumstances, to be the same as the one gained at Clavijo by Ramiro I.: the two have, beyond all doubt, been confounded, and it is no less undoubted that the circumstances are a pure creation of the chroniclers.

Like most of his predecessors, Ramiro had also to struggle with internal discord. The dependent count of Castile, Fernan Gonsalez, and one Diego Nunez, a count also in the same province, for reasons with which history (however communicative romance may be) does not acquaint us, revolted against him. The incensed king marched against them, seized their persons, and confined them in two separate fortresses. His displeasure was not of long duration: he suffered the counts to resume their offices on their taking the usual oaths of obedience, and he even married his eldest son, Ordoño, to Urraca, daughter of Fernan Gonsalez. To that son, on the vigil of the Epiphany, in the year 950, he resigned the crown: his growing illness convinced him that he had not long to live; he therefore assumed the penitential garb and passed his few remaining days in religious retirement.

Ordoño III. had scarcely ascended the throne before he was troubled by the ambitious projects of his younger brother, Don Sancho. Sancho and the count, at the head of the Castilians and the Navarrese, in vain invaded the territories of Leon; they 955-982 found Ordoño so well prepared to receive them that they retreated without risking a single battle. With equal success did he triumph over the Galicians, who, for reasons which the meager chroniclers of the time never dream of communicating, openly rebelled. He died in 955.

Sancho I., surnamed from his corpulency the Fat, now arrived at the summit of his ambition. But by the retributive justice of Heaven he was doomed to bear, and in a still heavier degree, the burden of anxiety which he had laid on his brother and predecessor. Aided by the restless count of Castile, whose daughter, the divorced Urraca, he had married, Ordoño, son of Alfonso IV., aspired to the throne. Despairing of success by open arms, the two rebels artfully seduced the troops of Sancho from their allegiance, and persuaded them to join the intruder. This unexpected event deprived the king of the means of resistance, compelled him to flee secretly for his life, and raised Ordoño to a precarious dignity.

The exiled Sancho, after various adventures, was at length reinstated in his kingdom. The restored king did not long, however, survive his good fortune. In an expedition against Gonsalo Sanchez, count of Galicia, who aspired to render that government independent of Leon, he was poisoned under the mask of hospitality by that perfidious rebel, after a troubled reign of twelve years.

As Ramiro III. was only five years of age on the death of his father, his education fell to the care of his aunt Doña Elvira, abbess of the convent of San Salvador, who also appears to have been regent of the kingdom. His minority offers little that is interesting, if we except a predatory irruption of the Normans, who, early in 968, one year after his accession, landed in Galicia, advanced towards Compostella, defeated and slew Sismondo, bishop of that see, laid waste the whole of that province, with a considerable portion of Leon, and during two successive years committed their usual depredations, with, as appears, perfect impunity.

As Ramiro grew in years the qualities which he exhibited augured anything but good to his people. Rash, presumptuous, self-sufficient, and haughty in his behavior to his wisest counselors, he became so odious to the nation that the counts of Castile, Leon, and Galicia threw off their allegiance to him and proclaimed in Compostella Prince Bermudo, grandson of Fruela II. Ramiro immediately assembled an army, and marched against his rival, whom he encountered near Monterroso in Galicia, in 982. The 982-1021 contest, though long and bloody, was indecisive, so that both kings, afraid of renewing it, retired to their respective courts—Ramiro to Leon and Bermudo to Santiago. The calamities arising from this civil strife were increased by the hostile inroads of Almansor, the celebrated hagib of Hixem II., who now began a career of unrivaled military splendor, and who was destined to prove the most formidable enemy the Christians had experienced since the time of Tarik and Muza. Fortunately, however, for the distracted state, Ramiro did not long survive his return to Leon: his death again consolidated the regal power.

Bermudo II., who, on the death of Ramiro, in 982, was acknowledged king of Leon, had little reason to congratulate himself on his elevation, since his reign was one of the most disastrous in the national annals,—distracted alike by domestic rebellion and foreign invasion. Of the rebels who embittered his days by openly favoring the frequent invasions of the Mohammedans, three are particularly mentioned in history, Rodrigo Velasquez, Conancio, and Gonzalo Bermudez.

Alfonso V. was only five years of age on the death of his father, and the government was consequently intrusted to a regent. That regency is eventful, from the defeat of Almansor in 1001,—a defeat which not only occasioned the death of that hero, but which was the forerunner of the fall of Cordova. In the dissensions which followed among the candidates for the throne of Hixem, the Christian princes of Spain embraced different sides, as their interests or inclinations dictated. In 1010 Alfonso was imprudent enough to confer the hand of his sister on Mohammed, king of Toledo,—a prince who was subsequently raised to the throne of Cordova, but was soon deposed and put to death by Hixem.

As the king of Leon grew in years, he endeavored to repair the disasters which had been occasioned by the hostile inroads of the Arabs: he rebuilt and repeopled his capital, whither the seat of government was again transferred from Oviedo; he restored both to the churches and to individuals the property of which they had been despoiled, and proclaimed some salutary laws for the observance of the local counts. His good intentions, however, were not a little thwarted by the rebellion of Count Sancho Garces of Castile, who disdained to acknowledge his authority. But in 1021 Don Sancho died: his son, Don Garcia, a mere child, succeeded him. This seemed to the king of Leon a most favorable opportunity for 1021-1035 binding Castile closely with his crown, by a double union between the two houses: his son Bermudo he proposed to marry with Doña Ximena, sister of the young count, and the count himself with his daughter Doña Sancha; at the same time he offered to confer on his future son-in-law the title of king. The count, in 1026, left Burgos for the court of Leon, where he was received with all the friendship due to the character he was about to assume. But amidst the rejoicings consequent on his arrival he was assassinated by the sons of one Count Vela, who had been the vassals of his father, and who had fled from Castile to Leon, where they had been kindly received by Alfonso. The assassins fled to Monzon and thence towards the country of the Mohammedans; but they were overtaken by the king of Navarre, brother-in-law of the murdered count, who took and burned them alive. With Don Garcia ended the counts of Castile,—which was thenceforth to be governed by kings, and to remain more than two centuries dissevered from Leon.

Alfonso, soon after this tragical catastrophe, carried his arms into Portugal and laid siege to Viseo, then held by the Mohammedans. One day, however, being so imprudent as to approach very near to the walls without any defensive armor, he was mortally wounded by an arrow from the ramparts, and the siege was in consequence raised.

Like his father, Bermudo III. was at a tender age on his accession, though already married to the infanta of Castile. Of this circumstance advantage was unworthily taken by Sancho el Mayor, king of Navarre, who, not satisfied with assuming the sovereignty of Castile in right of his queen, Doña Muna Elvira, the elder sister of the queen of Leon and daughter of Don Garcia, the last count of Castile, made a hostile irruption into the states of his brother-in-law. Peace was, however, made on the condition that the king of Leon should confer the hand of his sister, Doña Sancha, on Don Ferdinand, one of King Sancho’s sons. But this peace appears to have been subsequently broken, doubtless through the ambition of the enterprising Navarrese, for that king in 1034 possessed Astorga, and indeed most of the country as far as Galicia. As Bermudo continued childless, the wily monarch might safely cherish the hope that the crown of Leon would devolve on the brows of his son in right of the infanta, his daughter-in-law.

On the death of Sancho, in 1035, his ample states were thus divided: To Garcia he left the kingdom of Navarre, the lordship 1037 of Biscay (which had been hitherto annexed to Castile), and a part of Rioja; to Ferdinand he bequeathed the new kingdom of Castile, and the conquests he had made between the Pisuerga and the Cea; to Ramiro fell the states of Aragon, which had hitherto continued a lordship as much dependent on Navarre as Castile on Leon; to another son, Gonzalo, he left Ribagorza, with some forts in Aragon.

This policy could not fail to be followed by fatal results. While Ramiro made war on his brother of Navarre, Ferdinand I. was summoned to the defense of the conquests which he held beyond the Pisuerga, and which Bermudo resolved again to incorporate with the kingdom of Leon. Aided by some auxiliary troops under his brother Garcia, he encountered Bermudo on the banks of the Carrion. The battle, which was fought in 1037, was sanguinary and long-continued, until the king of Leon impatiently spurred his horse into the midst of the hostile squadrons and fell mortally wounded by the thrust of a lance.

With Bermudo III. ended the male line of the house of Leon. This prince deserved a better fate than that of falling by hostile hands at the premature age of nineteen. His zeal in building churches and monasteries, his vigorous operations against the Mohammedans, and his firm administration of justice, as well as the natural affability of his disposition, all rendered him dear to his people.

In Castile, the reign of Sancho el Mayor, the first sovereign of the new kingdom, began in 1026 and ended in 1035. Hence, as Ferdinand grasped the scepter early in the latter year, he had reigned somewhat more than two years when, by the death of Bermudo III., in June, 1037, he became, in right of his queen, king also of Leon.

But Ferdinand I., though he lost no time in marching his victorious army to the city of Leon, was not immediately recognized by the inhabitants of that capital. Their affection for their deceased king; their resentment towards his victor, especially as that victor was the son of one whose memory they had little reason to respect; and, still more, the humiliation of receiving as their master the sovereign of a country which had until within the last eleven years been dependent on their rulers, made them offer for a few days a courageous resistance. But sober reflection now taught them that there was little wisdom in exasperating one whom sooner 1054-1057 or later they must inevitably obey, and they opened their gates to him. In time the monarch triumphed over all opposition and his throne was at length established in the hearts of his subjects.

But if Ferdinand was freed from domestic troubles, he experienced them from a neighbor and a brother—an inevitable effect of the disastrous policy of his father. His prosperity was envied by the king of Navarre, who, actuated, we are told, by the very demon of ambition, and regardless alike of honor, or faith, or fraternal obligation, formed a design for depriving him, if not of life, at least of sovereignty. This was a signal for open war between the two brothers, a war which Ferdinand, however conscious of his own superior power, vainly endeavored to avert by entreaties or remonstrances. At the head of a combined army of Navarrese and Mohammedans, Don Garcia, in 1054, invaded Castile; near Burgos he was encountered by the king of Leon and Castile. Before the struggle commenced attempts were made to dissuade the assailant from his unnatural, and hopeless as unnatural, purpose; but not even the affectionate entreaties of his governor in infancy could succeed. Seeing the number of the enemy and the hopelessness of the contest, the faithful old man,—faithful even unto death,—seized sword and lance and placed himself in the front of the lines, without shield, or helmet, or breastplate, resolving rather to die than to behold the death of his beloved master. Here, as the squadrons closed, he received the fate he sought; and, as he had foreseen, it immediately fell on Don Garcia, who was pierced to the heart by a lance in the hand of some officer connected with the royal house of Leon,—probably, as the monk of Silos asserts, at the secret instigation of the queen of Leon, Doña Sancha. The army, which had lost its chief, immediately fled. The victor gave orders that the Navarrese should be allowed to retire unmolested, but permitted the vengeance of his soldiers to fall on the Mohammedan auxiliaries. The corpse he buried with royal honors and fraternal regret in the principal church of Najera.

No sooner had Ferdinand restored tranquillity to his states than he prepared for the execution of a project he had long formed,—that of making war on the Mohammedan possessions in Lusitania. In the spring of 1055 he passed the Duero, the Tormes at Salamanca, and entered by way of Almeida. The first place which he reduced was Cea; he next seized, one by one, the fortresses in the vicinity, obtained great plunder and numerous captives, and in 1058-1068 1057 he took the important cities of Viseo and Lamego. To acquire Coimbra now inflamed his ambition. He invested the place in January, 1058 (not even the rigors of winter could cool his zeal), and obtained it by capitulation in the following July. He had thus conquered the whole country between the Duero and the Mondego, constituting the greater portion of the modern province of Beira: north of the latter river not a single fortified place remained dependent on the misbelievers.

The wars of Ferdinand in other parts were not less signal. He extended the boundary of Castile from the Duero almost to the gates of Alcala de Henares, and would no doubt have taken both that city and even Madrid had not the king of Toledo become his vassal and paid him tribute. He even carried his hostile irruptions into Valencia and Andalusia, but derived little advantage from them, if we except the relics of St. Isidore, which he compelled the king of Seville to surrender to him. In his last expedition, while under the walls of Valencia, he was assailed by a sickness which he knew would be fatal: he was, therefore, forced to abandon the siege and return to Leon.

The last days of this great king were wholly occupied in devotional exercises. Thus died one of the greatest and best princes that ever swayed the Christian scepter in Spain. His enduring conquests, his zeal for the welfare of his people, his generosity of mind, his care of religion, his liberality towards its ministers, his charity towards the poor, his humility of deportment, and his piety, cause him to be regarded as a model both for kings and private individuals. To Sancho, the eldest of his sons, he left the kingdom of Castile; to Alfonso, the most beloved of his children, those of the Asturias and Leon; and to Garcia, Galicia, which then extended into Lusitania as far as the Duero.

Alfonso VI. of Leon and Sancho II. of Castile appear to have lived in tranquillity with each other during two years after their father’s death,—a longer period than might have been expected from their mutual jealousies and their proneness to war. In 1068 Sancho assumed the assailant and defeated his brother on the banks of the Pisuerga. Alfonso himself was taken prisoner, but owed his life to the intercession of his sister Urraca.

The possession of two states did not satisfy the ambition of Sancho, who, as the eldest son of the late king, aspired to the whole of his kingdom,—to Galicia and Portugal, as well as the cities of 1072-1109 Zamora and Toro. In a battle fought at Santarem he is said to have defeated, and it is added that he afterwards dethroned, Don Garcia; but the probability is that he allowed his brother to retain possession of the throne, on the condition of homage and tribute. All that we certainly know is that in 1072 the king was assassinated before the place by a Castilian knight, Vellido Dolfos,—probably at the instigation of Doña Urraca. Thus fell Sancho the Brave, after a reign of near seven years in Castile and two in Leon.

When news of this catastrophe reached Toledo, Alfonso secretly left the capital,—for he was not without his suspicions (probably well grounded) that his departure would be prevented by his host,—and went to Zamora. There, chiefly through the activity of his sister, many thousands resorted—Leonnese, Castilians, and Galicians—to see and acknowledge him. Having taken possession of Leon and Castile, he invited his brother of Galicia, Don Garcia, to his court, and immediately confined that prince in the castle of Luna. There the latter passed the remaining years of his life, deprived, indeed, of his liberty, but in other respects treated with royal magnificence.

Undisturbed master of the Asturias, Leon, Galicia, and Castile, Alfonso was watchful to extend his conquests. His first expedition, in 1074, was in defense of his host, the king of Toledo, against whom the king of Cordova was advancing. The last-named ruler being expelled from the territories of Toledo, and pursued even to the gates of his capital, Alfonso carried his arms into Portugal, reduced Coria, and rendered many of the Mohammedan governors of that country, even south of the Mondego, his tributaries. But his most important wars were directed against the kingdom of Toledo (his host had died in the interim within the walls of Seville).

In 1083 he formally invested that important capital, which after a siege of two years capitulated.

As the other wars of Alfonso with the Mohammedans need not be repeated here, there is little during the rest of his reign to strike the attention. Alfonso died in 1109. As his only son, Don Sancho, had fallen in battle with the Almoravides, he left to his eldest daughter Urraca, now either widow of Raymond or very recently married to Alfonso I., king of Aragon and Navarre, the crowns of Leon and Castile; and to their son Alfonso Raymond the lordship of Galicia, as an hereditary fief. Had his son been spared, 1109-1126 the power of his states would have been consolidated, and Christian Spain made more able to contend with the formidable Moors.

Urraca, queen of Castile and Leon, did not long remain even on tolerable terms with her husband, Alfonso I., who had been associated with her in the government. Whether it was owing to her disposition, which was evidently overbearing and even tyrannical, or to her conduct, which is known to have been imprudent and is supposed to have been criminal, the two sovereigns soon came to an open misunderstanding. The Castilians naturally espoused the cause of their queen—not so much from attachment to her person as from hatred of the Aragonese yoke. But Alfonso had possession of many fortresses, which he hastened to defend. The first battle between him and Diego Gomez, the queen’s paramour, happened on the 26th day of October, 1111, in the vicinity of Sepulveda. The king was victorious, Don Diego, the general, being left dead in the field. But the queen appears soon to have consoled herself for the loss of one lover by another, if, indeed, she did not possess both at the same time. His place was supplied by Don Pedro de Lara, by whom she is known to have had issue.

After this victory King Alfonso took undisputed possession of Burgos, Palencia, Coria, Sahagun, and even Leon. He is accused of having committed atrocities during his march worthy only of the fierce Almohades, but accusations made by rancorous opponents cannot be received with too much caution. However this may be, the supporters of the Aragonian king gradually fell from him, and he left the kingdom to turn his arms against the Mohammedans of his neighborhood.

The retreat of Alfonso did not restore peace to the lacerated state. Though the queen recovered the fortresses which still held for him, her unbridled passions, and her conduct—a mixture at once of rashness and pusillanimity—created enemies on every side. Not satisfied with the tranquil possession of Leon and Castile, she aspired to that of Galicia; and, on the other hand, the partisans of her son, disgusted with her character and actions, were anxious to dethrone her and place their favorite in her room. Several towns of the kingdom, indeed, declared for the young prince; and on one occasion her paramour was seized by two Castilian nobles and confined in the castle of Mansilla. The internal state of the country, which was alternately ravaged by the hostile parties, was horrible. In fact, her reign was one uninterrupted succession of troubles, 1126-1157 most of which were justly imputable to herself. At length, in 1126, she ended her stormy and disastrous life, to the universal relief of her people. She left to posterity a character darkened by many crimes, and scarcely redeemed by a single virtue.

Alfonso VII., usually styled the Emperor, who inherited the crowns of Castile and Leon, after silencing a few of his turbulent nobles, directed his first efforts to the recovery of certain fortresses still held in Castile by the king of Aragon. His arms ere long found a fitting enemy in the Mohammedans, over whom he repeatedly and gloriously triumphed. On the death of Alfonso I., in 1134, in an unfortunate action against them, his dominions were rescued from ravage by the seasonable advance of his brother of Castile and Leon, who forced the misbelievers to retire. But the latter sovereign appears to have been actuated by other motives than generosity in affording this prompt succor. Najera, Calahorra, Tarrazona, and even Saragossa, omitting many minor places, which opened their gates to him, as the ally of their sovereign Ramiro the Monk, he evidently considered as his conquests; nor would he resign them to the new king, except as fiefs: he endeavored even to procure the recognition of his superiority over the whole kingdom of Aragon, but in vain. The new king of Navarre, however, did him homage,—doubtless to procure his aid against Ramiro, who wished to reunite that kingdom with Aragon.

In 1140 Alfonso entered into an iniquitous alliance with the successor of Ramiro (Raymond, count of Barcelona, who had married the daughter of Ramiro), in which both princes agreed to conquer and divide Navarre between them. But Don Garcia was not to be easily crushed. Before the two kings could unite their forces, he obtained a signal triumph over Raymond, and even afterwards compelled his imperial enemy to make peace with him. The alliance was still further cemented, in 1144, by the marriage of Garcia with a natural daughter of Alfonso; and of Sancho, one of Alfonso’s sons, with a princess of Navarre. The new king of Portugal, too, who appears to have been the ally of Garcia, and who made several irruptions into Galicia, not only defended his independence, but obtained successes over the Mohammedans as solid as they were splendid.

In his hostilities against the mutual enemies of his country and faith, Alfonso was more fortunate; by him, and his ally of Aragon, the Christian frontier was removed from the Tagus to the Sierra 1157-1181 Morena: he rendered tributary the Moorish governors of several places in Andalusia, as Baeza and Andujar. His last battle, delivered in 1157, against the Cid Yussef, son of Abdelmumen, emperor of the Almohades, was indecisive. Immediately after the action he set out on his return to his own dominions, but death surprised him in the village of Fresnada, near the port of Muradal, one of the great openings through the mountainous chain which separates Andalusia from New Castile. Though he lost Portugal and was unable to withstand the genius of his namesake of Aragon, whom he imitated in assuming the imperial title, yet with fewer pretensions, he, nevertheless, caused his territory to be respected by his Christian neighbors, and greatly aggrandized it at the expense of the Mohammedans. His talents, however, were inferior to his ambition, and his moderation to both.

Ferdinand II., king of Leon, and Sancho III., king of Castile, ascended the throne in the wise resolution of observing peace with each other, and thereby averting the evils generally resulting from divided power. Of the latter little more is known than that he waged a short but successful war against the king of Navarre, who aspired to the possession of Rioja; that his generals were also triumphant over the Moors; that he died at Toledo about a year after his accession (1158), and was succeeded by his infant son Alfonso.

The minority of Alfonso VIII. of Castile, who, on his father’s death, was no more than three years of age, was one of troubles; these were chiefly occasioned by the two powerful families of the Castros and Laras, who each contended for the guardianship of the royal infant, and, consequently, for the direction of affairs. Fortunately, however, these ruinous contentions ceased on the marriage of Alfonso, in 1170, with the Princess Eleanor, daughter of the English Henry II. From that day the young king exercised the sovereign power without control.

The reign of Ferdinand II. of Leon was one of unceasing activity: sometimes at war with the Moors, sometimes with his nephew of Castile, and now with the sovereign of Portugal, he seemed to exist only amidst bustle. The results of these wars were too indecisive, and their details too uninteresting, to require more than a very general notice. He recovered Badajoz, which the king of Portugal had reduced, took Caceres from the Moors, and more than once triumphed over the generals of Yussef, the African emperor. On the whole, however, this period was unfavorable to 1188-1197 the Christian arms: the tributary governors of Andalusia had thrown off their forced allegiance at the death of the emperor Alfonso; Portugal had been signally humbled; and the united forces of Castile and Aragon more than once retreated before the formidable Almohades. It was to repress the never-ceasing incursions of the Mohammedans, as well as to return these incursions with interest, that, in the time of Ferdinand two military orders, those of Calatrava and Santiago, were instituted.

Ferdinand died in 1188, and was succeeded by his son, Alfonso IX. One of the first acts of the new king was to continue the good understanding which had for some time subsisted between his father and his cousin of Castile. By the hands of Alfonso VIII. he received the honor of knighthood, and accompanied that prince in an expedition against the Africans. That good understanding, indeed, was sometimes interrupted. As early as 1189 the two princes appear to have quarreled respecting the possession of some unimportant conquests in Estremadura, which, from having been made by their united arms, ought in justice to have been divided between them, but which the sovereign of Castile claimed for himself. The king of Leon, feeling that he was no match single-handed for the Castilian,—during the late reigns this kingdom had been too powerful for its northern neighbor,—contracted a close alliance with his uncle, Sancho I. of Portugal, whose daughter, the Princess Theresa, he took to wife. As the parties were within the degree of affinity proscribed by the canon law, Pope Celestine III. dispatched Cardinal Gregory into Spain to enforce the dissolution of the marriage. In vain did Alfonso send an episcopal ambassador to Rome to procure a reversal of the sentence and a dispensation for removing the bar of consanguinity. The pontiff was inexorable: so also, for a considerable time, were Alfonso and his queen. It was not until the year 1195 that they consented to separate.

This was not the only instance in which the king of Leon was opposed in his policy or affections by the successors of St. Peter. After the defeat of Alfonso of Castile in 1195, by Aben Yussef, on the plains of Alarcos, the intemperate language of that prince to his ally of Leon, who was advancing to his assistance, led, as before related, to a war between the two kings, who ultimately laid waste each other’s dominions. When, in 1197, they met each at the head of a formidable army, the nobles and prelates of both, convinced how fatal to the Christian cause such contests might become, 1197-1214 especially considering the enterprising character of the African emperor, anxiously sought the means of a permanent reconciliation. It was at length agreed that the king of Leon should marry Berengaria, daughter of the king of Castile, and, by her mother Eleanor, nearly connected with the English royal house of Plantagenet. Though the marriage had been solemnly celebrated at Valladolid, amidst the rejoicing of a whole people, Innocent loudly demanded the separation of the parties, and dispatched a legate with instructions to lay an interdict on the kingdoms of Leon and Castile if this demand were not satisfied. The legate appears to have been more reasonable than his intolerant master, for, on perceiving how vitally the welfare of the two states would be affected by the nullity of the marriage, and the tender affection borne by Alfonso towards the new queen, he suspended the execution of his instructions until a powerful representation of these facts were laid before the pope in person. Innocent, like his predecessor, was obstinate—doubtless because, as he had not been previously consulted, he wished to show that the power of the church was not to be resisted even by kings. Alfonso was equally so—particularly as the birth of a son opened a prospect of the union of the two crowns, should that son’s legitimacy be undisputed. In 1204, however, the resistance of the royal pair began to give way, and they consented to separate, on the condition that the legitimacy of their children were acknowledged both by the pope and the states of Leon. Innocent did not hesitate to comply with the request, and, in a convocation of those states, Ferdinand, the eldest of their children, was recognized as successor to the throne of his father.

The declared nullity of the marriage was followed by a war—desultory, indeed, but not the less vexatious—between the two Alfonsos: the cause seems to have been the refusal of the Castilian to surrender some fortresses which had been given as dowry by the king of Leon, the restoration of which he had a right to demand on his separation from Berengaria. Peace was at length obtained, through the mediation of the pope, and still more through the apprehensions felt by the Castilian on the approaching invasion of his states by Mohammed ben Yacub, emperor of the Almohades, whose preparations resounded throughout Europe. How nobly Alfonso VIII., on the plains of Tolosa, in 1212, avenged his defeat of 1195 on those of Alarcon has already been related.

Alfonso VIII. of Castile did not long survive this glorious triumph. 1214-1217 After two hostile irruptions into the territories of the enemy, he died in 1214, and was succeeded by his only surviving son, Enrique I. As the new king, however, was only in his eleventh year, the regency was intrusted to his sister Berengaria, the most excellent princess of her age. But neither her wisdom, her virtues, nor the near relation she held to the infante, could avail her with the fierce nobles of Castile. The house of Lara, whose unprincipled ambition had on a former occasion been productive of such evils to the state, again became the scourge of the country. Under the pretense that a woman was unfitted to discharge the office of guardian, the nobles of that house insisted on the custody of the royal ward being given to Count Alvaro Nuñez de Lara, the chief of that turbulent family.

No sooner was Don Alvaro in possession of the regency than he exhibited the true features of his character—haughtiness, rapacity, tyranny, and revenge. Those whom he knew to be obnoxious to his party he imprisoned or confiscated their possessions. His exactions fell on all orders of the state. The remonstrances of the Queen Berengaria were treated with equal contempt; to render her odious to the people, he fabricated letters as if written by her to procure by poison the death of her brother, but the opposite characters of the two were so well understood that the imposture deceived no one individual. Thus Alvaro continued his iniquitous career, running from place to place with the young king, destroying the habitations and confiscating the substance of such as dared to censure his measures. But an accident, as unexpected as its consequences were fortunate for Spain, deranged all his views. Towards the end of May, 1217, while Enrique was playing with his young companions in the courtyard of the episcopal palace of Palencia, a tile from the roof of the tower fell on his head and inflicted a wound of which he died on the 6th of June following. Knowing how fatally this event must affect his interests, Don Alvaro, with the intention of concealing it as long as he could, conveyed the royal corpse as the living prince to the fortress of Tariego; but the intelligence soon reached the queen, who, on this critical occasion, displayed a prudence and promptitude justly entitled to admiration. By the laws of Castile she was now heiress to the crown, but she resolved to transfer her rights to her son Ferdinand, heir to the crown of Leon, and thereby to lay the foundation for the union of the two kingdoms. Good fortune at this 1217-1230 juncture favored the queen, for all remembered that during the reign of her father she had been declared heiress to the throne, in case she survived her brother, and that prince died without issue. The states eagerly hastened to Valladolid and swore allegiance to her as their lawful sovereign. Immediately afterwards a stage was erected at the entrance of the city, and there, on the 31st day of August, 1217,—nearly three months from the death of Enrique,—the queen, in presence of her barons, prelates, and people, solemnly resigned the sovereignty into the hands of her son, who was immediately proclaimed king of Castile.

But Ferdinand III. was not yet in peaceable possession of the crown: he had to reduce the towns which held for Don Alvaro, and, what was still worse, to withstand his father, the king of Leon, who now invaded the kingdom. Aided by the party of that restless traitor, Alfonso aspired to the sovereignty: he marched on Burgos, which had just acknowledged his son, and, in opposition to the entreaties of the clergy—in all countries the uniform friends of legitimacy and order,—he laid waste the domains of that son’s adherents. The Castilian nobles were not slow in combining for the defense of their king: they hastened to Burgos in such numbers and were animated by such a spirit that Alfonso, despairing of success or touched by the more honorable feelings of nature and justice, desisted from his enterprise. Alvaro Nuñez de Lara ended his unprincipled life in disgrace and poverty in 1219.

Tranquillity being thus restored, the kings of Leon and Castile prepared to commence an exterminating war against the Mohammedans. Though partial irruptions, generally attended with success, were made into the territories of the Moors from various parts,—from Aragon, Castile, Leon, and Portugal,—it was not until 1225 that the career of conquest commenced, which ended in the annihilation both of the African power and of all the petty kingdoms which arose on its ruins. In that and the two following years Murcia was invaded, Alhambra taken, and Jaen besieged by Ferdinand, Valencia invaded by King Jayme of Aragon, Badajoz taken by Alfonso, and Elvas by the king of Portugal. The king of Castile was present before Jaen, which his armies had invested two whole years, when intelligence reached him of his father’s death, in 1230, after a successful irruption into Estremadura.

The inestimable advantage which this event was calculated to procure for Christian Spain,—the consolidation of two kingdoms 1230-1248 often hostile to each other,—was near being lost. In his last will Alfonso named his two daughters,—for the kingdom had long ceased to be elective,—joint heiresses of his states. The motives which could urge that sovereign to the repetition of an error so long and so fatally felt, we should vainly inquire: it may, however, be supposed that many nobles of the more ancient kingdom were unwilling to see it merged in the more modern though more powerful one of Castile. Fortunately for Spain, the majority of the Leonnese took a sounder view of their interests than Alfonso—Leon, Astorga, Oviedo, Lugo, Mondoñedo, Salamanca, Ciudad Rodrigo, and Coria declared for Ferdinand. Though Compostella, Tuy, and Zamora espoused the cause of the infantas, and though the Count Diego Dias attempted to strengthen their party even in Leon itself by force of arms, nobles, clergy, and people were too numerous in favor of the king of Castile to leave those princesses the remotest chance of success. No sooner did that prince hear how powerful a party supported his just pretensions than he hastened from Andalusia into Leon. As he advanced, accompanied by his mother Berengaria,—a princess to whose wisdom he was indebted for most of his success,—Avila, Medina del Campo, Tordesillas, and Toro opened their gates to him. Directing his course towards Leon, Villalon, Mayorga, and Mansilla imitated the example of the other towns. As he approached the capital he was met by the bishops and clergy, the nobles, and the people of the greater portion of the kingdom, who escorted him in triumph to the cathedral, where he received their homage. Thus, two hundred years from their first meeting, the goodly kingdoms of Leon and Castile were again and forever joined. The king visited the towns of his new possession, administering justice and receiving the homage of his subjects.

Ferdinand III., now lord of Spain from the Bay of Biscay to the vicinity of the Guadalquivir, and from the confines of Portugal to those of Aragon and Valencia, put into execution his long-meditated schemes of conquest. Alfonso the emperor, indeed, somewhat more than a century preceding, had possessed an equal extent of territory, but at that time the Christian kings were not, as now, at peace with each other, nor animated by the same hope of success in their wars with the Mohammedans. How Ferdinand, in 1233, triumphed over Aben Hud, king of Murcia, Granada, Cordova, Merida, and Seville; how, from that year to 1248, he successively 1252-1254 obtained possession of Toledo, Cordova, the whole of Murcia, Jaen, and Seville, have been related sufficiently at length on a former occasion.

If we except these wars, there is little in the remainder of Ferdinand’s life to occupy our attention. Being seized, the beginning of 1252, with a dropsy at Seville, he prepared for his approaching end by extraordinary acts of an austere devotion. His last advice to his son and successor Alfonso, on whom he strongly inculcated the eternal obligations of justice and mercy, did credit to him alike as a sovereign and a man. Having caused the ensigns of majesty to be removed from his presence, bid a tender adieu to his family and friends, and fortified himself for his great journey by the sacraments of the church, he breathed his last, May 30, 1252, amidst the lamentations of all Seville.

Alfonso X., surnamed El Sabio, or the Learned,^[15] the eldest son of the deceased Ferdinand, ascended the thrones of Castile and Leon with every prospect of a happy reign, yet few were ever more unfortunate.

The first design of Alfonso was to carry the war into Africa, in pursuance with his father’s recent preparations, but he wisely desisted from the undertaking. But he was not without ambition: if he abandoned one enterprise, it was only with the view of prosecuting another. He cast a longing eye on Gascony, then in the possession of the English Henry III., which had been promised as a marriage portion to Alfonso of Castile, father of St. Ferdinand, but which had never been occupied by that sovereign. Its conquest by the English seemed to place it beyond the reach of the new king, but as the English monarch had assumed the cross, with the intention of visiting the Holy Land, and as he wished to pacify the province before his departure, he proposed, by his ambassadors, to marry his son Edward with Eleanor, sister of the Castilian king; and that the young prince should receive as dowry with her the absolute surrender of all the Castilian’s rights over the disputed territory, together with the duchies of Ponthieu and Montreuil. The proposal was readily accepted by Alfonso, who, to unite the two crowns still closer, demanded Beatrix, a daughter of the Plantagenet, for one of his brothers. In pursuance with this treaty, Edward left Gascony and was met at Burgos by Alfonso and the whole Castilian court. He was entertained with great magnificence 1254-1270 by the king, at whose hands he received the honor of knighthood. The marriage was solemnized with great pomp about the end of October, 1254, in the monastery of the Huelgas. Edward soon after returned with his bride to England.

The pretensions of Alfonso over Suabia, to which he aspired in right of his mother Beatrix, daughter of Philip, duke of Suabia and emperor of Germany, were not so satisfactorily settled: they led indeed to many of the misfortunes which afflicted his reign. His pretensions were at first supported by Pope Alexander IV.; hence, Alfonso aspired to the imperial dignity, and lavished his wealth for a purpose evidently unattainable. Though elected by one party, another and more powerful one gave their suffrages to Richard, earl of Cornwall, brother to the English king, Henry III.: in reality, neither election was legitimate. Hence the contest which so long distracted Germany and Italy, and the sums which Alfonso exacted from his kingdoms to support the validity of his election. In 1273 the choice, as is well known, fell on Rodolph, count of Hapsburg: it was all but unanimous, since Ottocar of Bohemia was the only member of the confederation who maintained the validity of the king of Castile’s former election.

It can be no matter of surprise that the states of Alfonso should murmur at his expensive follies, or that he should become somewhat unpopular with his subjects. Another complaint of his nobles was that in marrying his natural daughter, Beatrix de Guzman, to Alfonso II. of Portugal he had resigned to that prince the sovereignty of the Algarves. These circumstances were eagerly seized by some discontented barons, who, under the plea of the public good, formed a party intended to compel the king into wiser measures, but whose real objects were purely selfish. Some time, indeed, elapsed before they proceeded to open rebellion, though they assembled in arms, first at Lara in 1270 and subsequently at Palencia. Instead of marching without a moment’s loss of time to reduce them by force, the king had the weakness to treat with them. He promised that if they would lay down their arms and make their complaints known to him, he would endeavor to redress such as he should find reasonable. But their demands having risen with his imbecility and their own prospect of impunity, they refused to disarm until he had assembled the states at Burgos. On this point, too, he yielded; the Cortes were accordingly convoked.

The unexpected facility with which these concessions were 1272-1278 made, surprised the rebels themselves and reduced them to silence. After some deliberation, seeing the hopelessness of contending, under present circumstances, with one whom they were resolved not to obey, they agreed to forsake the kingdom and to take up their abode with the king of Granada. They remained at the Mohammedan court about two years, from 1272 to 1274: nor would they return to Castile, though repeatedly urged by the king and queen, until not only they were promised a restoration of their past dignities, but the concession of the most important points they had demanded.

During the absence of Alfonso, in 1275, on a fruitless visit to Pope Gregory, then in France, respecting his pretensions to the empire, and during the existence of hostilities with the Moors both of Spain and Africa, died the infante Ferdinand de la Cerda, eldest son of Alfonso, and consequently heir to the united crowns of Leon and Castile. This event gave rise to disputes concerning the succession. By the Roman law the two sons of the deceased prince stood the nearest in relation to the throne, but by that of the Visigoths the more immediate proximity of the second son was recognized. To decide on this important subject—whether Spain should follow her own ancient institutions in this respect or adopt that of other states—the Cortes, in 1276, were convoked at Segovia. That body decided that immediate proximity ought to prevail over representation; in other words, that the second son, as being but one degree removed from the father, should be preferred to the grandsons, who were but the representatives of the eldest son and were two degrees distant; the infante Don Sancho was accordingly proclaimed successor to the throne. The popularity, however, of Sancho, who had distinguished himself in the wars with the Moors, and the tender age of the two sons of Ferdinand, had probably more weight in the question than either law or custom. That Alfonso himself, who was no mean jurist, was not ignorant of the legitimate laws of succession, is evident from his having transferred from the Justinian Code into his Siete Partidas the very law on this subject in operation in ancient Rome and in the modern kingdoms of Europe. The decision of the Cortes appears to have given umbrage to Philip of France, whose sister Blanche was the widow of the deceased Ferdinand, and the elder of whose nephews he justly regarded as the rightful successor to Alfonso. The princess, however, with the infantes and the queen of Alfonso, who 1281-1283 beheld their exclusion with indignation, effected their escape from Burgos, and were received by the king of Aragon. War was now declared by France against Castile, but prevented from exploding by the interference of Pope Nicholas III. In the sequel (in 1278) the queen of Castile returned to her husband, but Blanche proceeded to the court of her brother; the two infantes were retained in Aragon, less from motives of humanity or of justice than from a view to embarrass the Castilian government whenever the opportunity should arrive. The worst feature of these transactions is one, however, that is wrapped in some obscurity. That Prince Fadrique was put to death by order of his own brother, Alfonso, is undoubted; and there appears reason to conclude that the cause was the implication of the infante in the flight of Blanche, her children, and the Castilian queen.

To satisfy the continued expostulations of France respecting the rights of the infantes de la Cerda, in the Cortes held at Seville in 1281, Alfonso seriously proposed to dismember Murcia from his crown in favor of those princes. The proposal filled Don Sancho with so much indignation that he refused to attend the sittings. The discontented barons and deputies cast their eyes on Sancho, from whom alone they could expect justice. Seeing the almost universal disaffection of the people, this prince aspired to wrest the scepter from the feeble hands which held it. In vain did the king endeavor to pacify the rebel by proposing to satisfy all his demands; in vain did he apply to the kings of Portugal, Navarre, and Aragon—Sancho had secured the neutrality of all these. Hopeless of succeeding in Spain, he next solicited the pope to excommunicate his revolted subjects. At first the pope merely wrote to the grand masters of Santiago and Calatrava, exhorting them to effect a reconciliation between the parties. Amidst universal defection, seeing that Badajoz and Seville were the only important places which remained in their allegiance, while the rest of the kingdom eagerly acknowledged Sancho, the incensed king assembled, in 1283, remaining adherents in Seville, and in a solemn act he not only disinherited, but imprecated his deepest maledictions on the head of his rebellious son. In the same act he instituted the infantes de la Cerda as his heirs; and in default of their issue, the kings of France. The pope now interfered more effectually in behalf of Alfonso, threatening the adherents of Sancho with excommunication unless they immediately returned to their duty, and 1283-1286 at the same time placing an interdict on the kingdom. Though the troops of the African king had returned home in disgust, the cause of Alfonso acquired strength from day to day; his other sons, who had taken part with Sancho, returned to him; nay, even Sancho himself, seeing the revolutions in the opinions of men, made overtures of reconciliation. That such a reconciliation would have been effected, notwithstanding the strenuous efforts of some wicked courtiers about the prince, seems certain; but Sancho suddenly fell sick and was conveyed to Salamanca. The latter was soon out of danger, but the king grew worse, until the 5th day of April, 1284, when he breathed his last. He did not, however, revoke his last will.

The character of Alfonso must be sufficiently apparent from his actions. It may be added that his acquirements were of a very superior order. The Astronomical Tables which he composed, and which are called by his name, have been often adduced as proofs of his science. It is, however, certain, that in their construction he was greatly indebted to the Moorish astronomers of Granada, some of whom visited his court for the express purpose of superintending if not of calculating them. That he had a hand in the composition of the Chronicle which also bears his name is no less undoubted, but we should vainly attempt to ascertain the portion issuing from his own pen. In the compilation of the Laws of the Partidas from the Justinian and Visigothic Codes he had also a share,—how large a one must in like manner remain forever unknown. On the whole, it may be said of him, that, like the English James I., he was an extraordinary instance of weakness and learning.

Notwithstanding the testamentary exclusion of his eldest son by the late king, the states of the kingdom lost no time in recognizing Sancho IV. Equally ineffectual were the efforts of the infante Don Juan, brother of the new king, to seize on Seville, to which, in virtue of the same testament, he laid his claim. Neither that city nor the states, both wiser than the deceased monarch, would sanction the dismemberment of the kingdom.

During his father’s lifetime, though in opposition to that father’s wishes, Sancho had married his cousin, Doña Maria de la Molina, without being able to obtain the necessary dispensation from the pope. When, in 1286, that queen was delivered of a son, his anxiety to get the legitimacy of his marriage, and, consequently, 1286-1312 that of his child sanctioned, naturally increased: he dreaded the pretensions of the infantes de la Cerda, who were still protected by the kings of Aragon and of France; but the pope continued inexorable. Equally fruitless were his negotiations with Alfonso III. of the former kingdom to obtain possession of the two princes. Internal troubles soon added to the perplexities, and, as usual, these troubles arose from the very men who had experienced the greatest share of the royal bounty. To Lope Dias de Haro, who had rendered him some service on a former occasion, he confided the superintendence of the finances; he made him a count,—a dignity not yet common in the kingdom,—and married his daughter to the infante Don Juan, thus closely connecting him with the royal family. But the arrogance of the new favorite rendered him odious, eventually even to the king.

Don Lope was slain in 1288, but his death did not restore tranquillity. His widow, though sister to the queen, invited her eldest son, Don Diego de Haro, to revenge the count.

But Sancho himself died in 1295, leaving the guardianship of his eldest son Ferdinand, then only nine years of age, and the regency of his kingdom, to his queen.

The reign of Ferdinand IV. was one continued succession of disasters. Scarcely had he received the homage of the states when his uncle, the restless Juan, who had taken refuge with the king of Granada, called in question his legitimacy and laid claim to the crown. At the same time Diego Lopez de Haro, who, towards the close of the late reign, had made an attempt in Biscay, and failed, again invaded that province, the government of which he considered as belonging by right to his family. Dinis, the king of Portugal, armed to obtain three frontier fortresses,—Serpia, Mora, and Moron; and the king of Granada followed or set the example, in the hope of procuring similar advantages. Nor did the measures, however well intended, which the queen adopted in this emergency improve the face of her affairs. To increase her perplexities, the infante Enrique, who, in 1258, had rebelled against his brother Alfonso el Sabio, and retired to Tunis, and had afterwards passed into Italy and returned into Spain in 1286, resolved to deprive her of the regency.

But the troubles of Ferdinand were to end only with his life. During the remainder of his reign he was continually at war with his revolted barons, and seldom did he succeed in reducing them 1308-1315 by force to obedience: his gold did more than his arms. Of the kingly dignity he had nothing but the name. Among the turbulent and faithless barons was his uncle Juan, whose whole life exhibited continued alternations of rebellion and of purchased submission. Ferdinand’s death was premature and sudden: if any faith is to be put in ancient chroniclers, it was no less extraordinary. During an expedition into Andalusia against the Moors, rumor accused two brothers of Martos, both cavaliers, of having assassinated one of the king’s barons. Without taking the trouble to inquire into the circumstances, and in spite of their solemn asseveration of innocence, the king ordered both to be put to death. Seeing no hope of justice at his hands, they are said to have cited him to appear with them, in thirty days, before the judgment seat of God. However this be, he was found dead on his couch on which he was taking his siesta, September 17, 1312.

During the reign of this prince the Templars sustained their famous accusation of heresy and immorality. In the supposition that those of Castile were no less guilty than their brethren of France, the pope, in 1308, ordered their possessions to be sequestrated: the same fate attended them in Aragon. They loudly demanded a fair trial, which was at length granted them. For this purpose a provincial council was held in 1310 at Salamanca, where, after a long, a patient, and apparently an impartial investigation, they were solemnly absolved from all the charges brought against them and declared true knights and Catholic Christians. This honorable testimony in their favor, however, availed them little, since the suppression of their order was decreed the following year throughout the Catholic world. The riches of these knights, much more than their reputed vices, occasioned their condemnation.

As Alfonso XI., the only son of the deceased king, was only a few months old on his accession to the throne, the state was again thrown into a long series of convulsions through the ambition of its barons. The first disputes were between the infantes Pedro and Juan—uncle and granduncle of Alfonso—and Don Juan de Lara, for the wardship of the royal child. In the Cortes of Palencia, in 1313, convoked expressly for the purpose of determining in whose hands the regency should be vested, one portion of the deputies voted for Maria and the infante Pedro; another for Constanza, the queen-mother, and the infante Juan. The two princes had recourse to arms in support of their respective 1315-1334 claims: after many months of continued hostilities, attended with various success, they agreed, at the instance of Doña Maria, to divide the government between them. This policy,—the only one that could be prudently adopted in the critical circumstances of the time,—was sanctioned by the states of Madrid in 1315.

It could not, however, be expected that a good understanding would long subsist between the two regents. The laurels which Pedro won against the Moors excited the jealousy of the elder infante, who was more anxious to frustrate the success of his coadjutor than to humble the enemy. It required all the influence of the prudent Queen Maria (Constanza was no more) and all the representations of the assembled states to preserve harmony between them. The death of both in 1319, in the battle of Granada, has been already related.

The death of the two infantes was followed by new struggles for the regency. It was at length seized by the infante Don Felipe, uncle of the king, and by Don Juan Manuel, also of the royal family and one of the most powerful barons of the realm, and the usurpation was confirmed by the states of Burgos in 1320. Another Don Juan, surnamed el Tuerto, or the Crooked, son of the restless infante of that name, disappointed at his exclusion from the regency, took up arms to obtain the object of his ambition. To allay these troubles a pontifical legate arrived, and, by means of the prelates and Cortes, succeeded in re-establishing something like tranquillity; but after his departure, and especially after the death of the old Queen Maria, they broke out with renewed violence. Again did civil war, commenced by the ambition of the regents, who each aspired to the sole authority, and sustained by the fickle populace, desolate these fine regions.

This desultory warfare, as vexatious to the king as it was inglorious, continued for years, notwithstanding the attempts at reconciliation made both by Alfonso’s immediate emissaries and by the agents of the pope. Don Juan was often aided by other discontented lords, such as the Laras, who rebelled on the slightest pretext, and returned to obedience only when purchased by their sovereign. Being forsaken in 1334 by one of his best supporters, a baron of that rebellious house, he himself, the following year, accepted the royal offers, and condescended to return to his duty on the condition of his daughter Constanza being given in marriage to the prince of Portugal,—a marriage which was effected in the 1334-1351 course of the same year. But neither Don Juan Manuel nor his brother rebel of Lara could long remain at peace with their sovereign. Scarcely had they renewed their homage to Alfonso, when they formed a new league, and the civil war recommenced. The accession to their cause of the Portuguese king enabled them to inflict great ravages on the kingdom. Alfonso opposed them with great vigor: while his generals forced the Lusitanian to raise the siege of Badajoz he himself reduced Lerma, which was defended by Don Juan de Lara, who submitted, and about the same time Juan Manuel precipitately retreated into Aragon. In 1338 the latter again returned to his duty, and though always a disaffected subject, he did not again break out into open rebellion.

As the transactions of Alfonso with the Moors of Spain and Africa,—the most striking events of his reign,—have been already detailed, little more remains to occupy the reader’s attention. His amours, however, with Doña Leonora de Guzman ought not to be passed over in silence, since they are connected with the worst acts of his successor. This lady, who belonged to one of the most illustrious houses of Spain, he first saw at Seville in 1330 and became deeply enamored of her. A widow at eighteen years of age, she had not virtue to resist the royal lover: she sacrificed her pride of birth, the honor of her family, her reputation and peace of mind to the vanity of pleasing, or to the ambition of ruling, a monarch. The issue of this adulterous intercourse were numerous, and, as we shall soon see, unfortunate. Of his legitimate children, his successor alone survived him. He died of the plague, before Gibraltar, in 1350.

On the accession of Pedro, surnamed the Cruel, then only in his sixteenth year, Leonora de Guzman, dreading his resentment, or rather that of the queen-mother, retired to the city of Medina-Sidonia, which formed her appanage. Through the perfidious persuasions, however, of a Lara and an Albuquerque, who governed the mind of Pedro, and who pledged their knightly faith that she had nothing to fear, she proceeded to Seville to do homage to the new sovereign. No sooner did she reach that city than she was arrested and placed under a guard in the Alcazar. The eldest of her sons, Enrique, who was permitted to visit her there, would have shared the same fate had he not precipitately retreated from the capital. From Seville she was soon transferred to Carmona, and if her life was spared a few months, it was not owing to the forbearance, 1351-1353 but to the indisposition of the king, which was at one time so dangerous as to render his recovery hopeless. Unfortunately for Spain, he did recover, and one of his first objects, early in 1351, was to draw her from Carmona, and make her accompany him to Talavera, where she was consigned to a still closer confinement. Her doom was soon sealed: in a few days she was put to death by the express order of the queen, no doubt with the concurrence of the king.

Having held the states at Valladolid, where he ineffectually endeavored to procure the abolition of the behetrias, Pedro proceeded to Ciudad Rodrigo to confer on the interests of the two kingdoms with his grandfather, the sovereign of Portugal. Well had it been for him had he followed the advice of that monarch, who urged on him the necessity of moderation in his government, and above all of living on a good understanding with his illegitimate brothers, and to forgive the natural indignation they had shown at the death of their mother. He pretended, indeed, that the advice was not lost on him; and he even invited the eldest, Enrique, to return to court to rejoin his brother Don Tello; but from his character and subsequent actions it may be inferred that his object in so doing was solely to lull his intended victim into security. The invitation was accepted, but both brothers soon left him and revolted, whether at the instigation of some other rebels or from a well-grounded apprehension of their danger is uncertain. Some of the confederates were reduced and put to death; but the princes themselves eluded his pursuit,—Don Tello by fleeing into Aragon. While besieging the places which had thrown off his authority he became enamored of Doña Maria de Padilla, who was attached to the service of his favorite lady, Doña Isabel de Albuquerque. Through the persuasion of this unprincipled intriguer, the uncle of the young lady, Don Juan de Hinestroja, did not hesitate to sacrifice the honor of his house by consigning her to the arms of the royal gallant. The connection thus formed, which continued unto the death of Doña Maria, brought the greatest disasters on the country.

Some months previous to this connection, Pedro, in compliance with the request of the Cortes of Valladolid, had agreed that an embassy should be sent to the French king soliciting for wife a princess of the royal house of the nation. The choice fell on Blanche de Bourbon, a princess of excellent qualities, who early in 1353-1354 1353 arrived at Valladolid. But the king, infatuated by his mistress, who had just been brought to bed of a daughter, was in no disposition to conclude the marriage; and it was not without difficulty that his minister Albuquerque, who was already jealous of the favors accorded to the relations of Maria de Padilla, and for that reason the more eager for its solemnization, prevailed on him to meet the princess at Valladolid. Leaving Padilla and his heart at Montalvan, he reluctantly proceeded towards that city. On his way he accepted the submissions of his brothers Enrique and Tello, whom, on an occasion like the one approaching, he could not decently punish for their rebellion. In June the ceremony took place with due splendor, but two days after its celebration he precipitately left his youthful bride and returned to Montalvan. He was followed by his brother Fadrique, grand master of Santiago, and by Albuquerque, but he refused to see them. In a few days, indeed, he paid a short visit to his mother and bride, who remained in the city where the nuptials had been solemnized: to the latter it was a final one, nor did its duration exceed two days. On his return Albuquerque was openly disgraced; the royal confidence was transferred to the family of Padilla, and the unfortunate Blanche was confined in the fortress of Arevalo, where no one, not even excepting the queen-mother, was allowed to see her. To make way for Diego de Padilla, brother of the favorite, the grand master of Calatrava was treacherously murdered, and the commanders of the order compelled to elect the former.

The next proceeding of this tyrant filled with surprise all who knew his attachment to Maria de Padilla. Being struck while at Valladolid with the personal attraction of Doña Juana de Castro, a young maiden, he endeavored to gain her to his wishes. But the lady having too much virtue to yield, he changed his battery by boldly proposing to marry her. The proposition astonished one who knew his public engagement with Blanche de Bourbon, but he assured her that the union was null, for reasons which his prelates should explain to her. That any such prelates should be found might be supposed impossible, yet certain it is that the bishops of Avila and Salamanca confirmed his assurances, and the credulous Juana became his dupe. This profanation of the sacrament took place in the cathedral of Salamanca in the year 1354. On the report, however, that the brother of Juana had entered into a league with his own brothers, and with the disgraced Albuquerque, both to 1354-1358 remove the family of Padilla from his court and to make him return to his lawful queen, he not only insultingly acquainted the new victim with the deception he had so cruelly practiced on her, but abandoned her forever. In due time a son was the issue of this short connection.

When news of this base transaction reached the brother of Juana, Fernando Perez de Castro, who was one of the most powerful lords of Galicia, he instantly joined the league of the discontented. A civil war now commenced, which during some months raged with more animosity than success to either party. Pedro was imprisoned, but escaped. Pedro assembled his states at Burgos, and, by artfully representing himself as thwarted in all his proceedings for the good of his people by his mother, his brothers, and the other rebels, whose only aim was to tyrannize over the nation, he procured supplies for carrying on the war. These supplies, however, were granted on the condition of his living with Queen Blanche,—a condition which he readily promised to fulfill, without the slightest intention of so doing. After an unsuccessful assault on Toro he returned to Toledo, the peculiar object of his hatred. Contrary to all reasonable expectation, he forced an entrance and expelled the troops of his brother Enrique. This success would, however, have been unattainable had not most of the inhabitants believed in his protestations, and promises to return to Blanche. Meanwhile the unfortunate Blanche was transferred—not to his palace, to enjoy her rights as queen, but to the fortress of Siguenza. Pedro then lost no time in marching against Toro, where his mother and many of the leaguers still remained. His first attempt on that place was repulsed with loss, but after a siege of some months he prevailed on the inhabitants by lavishing extraordinary promises of clemency to open their gates to him. How well he performed his promise appeared the very day of his entrance, when he caused some barbarous executions to be made in his mother’s sight. The queen fainted at the spectacle, and on recovering her senses requested permission to retire into Portugal, which was granted. About the same time many Castilian barons fled into Aragon.

During the next few years Pedro waged a desultory war against the king of Aragon, both by sea and land, but the result was decisive to neither of the belligerents. In this war the barbarity of his executions, the duplicity with which he planned the destruction of such as submitted under the assurances of pardon, his 1358-1360 perfidious disregard of promises, or even oaths, when the openly pardoned objects of his hatred were fully in his power—not even excepting his nearest connections—stamp him at once as a ruthless barbarian and a bloody tyrant. The execution of his brother, Fadrique, grand master of Santiago, in 1358, is, perhaps, more characteristic of him than any other of his actions.

No sooner was this horrid deed committed than the tyrant sent orders for the execution of several knight in various cities of the kingdom; and, to show his exultation, he insisted on dining in the very room in which lay the bleeding corpse of his murdered brother. He then called for his cousin Don Juan, infante of Aragon, to whom he communicated his intention of executing his brother Don Tello, governor of Biscay, and of bestowing the lordship on Juan. The king and the prince departed the very same day for that province, but on reaching Aguilar they found that the prince had been apprised of his intended doom, and had fled, but was speedily recalled to Bilbao, where the king repaired, by the promise that his ambition should be gratified. The infante hastened to that town and proceeded to the house occupied by the court. As he approached the royal apartments some of the tyrant’s creatures, as if in jest, deprived him of his poniard,—the only weapon which he had about him, and at the same moment he was struck on the head by a mace: another blow brought him lifeless to the ground. His corpse was thrown from the window of the apartment occupied by the king into the street, but was afterwards conveyed to Burgos and cast into the river.

To revenge the murder of this and other of Pedro’s victims, the two brothers, Enrique and Tello, who had returned to Aragon, made frequent irruptions into Castile. In a battle fought in 1359 they triumphed over Hinestroja, whom they left dead on the field, and in subsequent invasions they obtained no small portion of plunder. But none of these things moved the king, who persevered in his course of barbarities as if his throne rested on a rock of adamant. It is impossible to specify all his individual acts of murder. But his famous, or rather infamous, compact with the Portuguese king, Pedro, is most indicative of the man. Knowing how much that sovereign longed to extirpate all who had been concerned in the murder of Iñes de Castro, and of whom a few had sought refuge in Castile, and no less eager on his own part to take vengeance on three or four of his own obnoxious subjects, who 1360-1363 had implored the protection of the Portuguese, he proposed to surrender the Portuguese in exchange for the Castilian refugees. The kindred soul of the Lusitanian felt a savage joy at the proposal: in 1360 the men were exchanged and put to death. To commiserate the murderers of Doña Iñes is impossible, however we may execrate the perfidy with which the sacred laws of hospitality were sacrificed to dark revenge. That the king of Castile contented himself with merely banishing the archbishop of Toledo, the friend and protector of Blanche de Bourbon, was probably owing to the fear, not of the pope, whose power he despised, but of his own people, who, however submissive to his will on most occasions, would not tamely have witnessed the murder of their primate. That he cared as little for the king of France as for the pope,—both were distant enemies,—Spain had a melancholy proof, in 1361, in the tragical death of that unhappy queen. His orders for her removal by poison were first given to the governor of Xeres, to whom the custody of her person had for some time been intrusted; but that governor, whose name (Iñigo Ortiz de Zuniga) ought to be revered by posterity, refused to become the executioner of his queen. It is somewhat surprising that his life was not the penalty of his disobedience,—a doom which he doubtless expected. A less scrupulous agent for this bloody business was found in one of the king’s ballasteros, Juan Perez de Robledo, who hastened to the fortress, superseded the noble Iñigo Ortiz in the command, and perpetrated the deed,—whether by poison or by steel is unknown. The same violence befell Isabel de Lara, widow of the infante Don Juan, whom the tyrant had murdered at Bilbao. The fate of Blanche de Bourbon must powerfully excite the sympathy of every reader.

The death of Blanche was followed by the natural one of the king’s mistress, Maria de Padilla. Whether through the example of the Portuguese sovereign, who had shortly before proclaimed his secret marriage with Iñes de Castro, or whether because the Castilian had in like manner actually married Maria, certain it is that, in 1362,—immediately after the murder of the king of Granada by his own hand,—Pedro convoked the Cortes at Seville, and declared that Maria de Padilla had been his lawful wife, and that for this reason alone he had refused to live with Blanche de Bourbon: he therefore required that his son Alfonso should be declared his legitimate successor.

It was to defend himself against the probable vengeance of 1364-1366 France, and the present hostility of Aragon, that, in 1363, Pedro sought the alliance of the English Edward III. and the heroic Black Prince. The danger was the more to be apprehended when the king of Navarre joined his brother of Aragon. For some time the advantage lay on the side of the Castilian, who, early in 1364, reduced several towns in Valencia and invested the capital of that province, the siege of which, however, he was soon compelled to raise. But these temporary successes were more than counterbalanced by the activity of Enrique, who in 1365 prevailed on Bertrand du Guesclin, the count de la Marche, and other French chiefs to aid him in his projected dethronement of the Castilian tyrant. The French king, Charles V., anxious to avenge the cruel insult done to his royal house, espoused the cause of Enrique and commanded his disbanded soldiers to serve in the expedition destined against Castile. To meet it, Pedro, in 1366, assembled his troops at Burgos. He had not long to wait; under some noted leaders the French soon entered Catalonia, were favorably received by their ally, the king of Aragon, and reached Calahorra unmolested, the gates of which were speedily opened to them. There Enrique was solemnly proclaimed king of Castile.

The inactivity of Pedro on the invasion of his kingdom was such as to leave it a doubtful point with posterity whether he was a coward or whether he knew too well the disaffection of his people to hazard a battle with the enemy. In opposition to the urgent remonstrances of the inhabitants, he precipitately left Burgos for Seville, without venturing his sword with his aspiring brother. Enrique hastened to the abandoned city, where he was joyfully received by many deputies of the towns and crowned in the monastery of Huelgas. He now lost no time in pursuing the fugitive Pedro. Presenting himself before Toledo, he summoned that important place to surrender, which after some deliberation obeyed the summons. There he was joined by deputies from Avila, Segovia, Madrid, Cuenza, Ciudad Real, with the submission of those towns. He was now master of the whole of New Castile.

The rapidity of these successes convinced the guilty Pedro that his own subjects alone would form but a poor rampart against the assaults of his brother. To procure the aid of Portugal, he sent his daughter Beatrix, now the heiress of his states (his son Alfonso was no more), into that country with a great treasure as her marriage portion for the infante Ferdinand, to whom she had been 1366-1367 promised. He was himself soon obliged to follow her: an insurrection of the Sevillians, who openly declared for Enrique, inspiring the detested tyrant with a just dread of his life, he fled into the territories of his uncle and ally. But here new mortifications awaited him: the Portuguese returned both his daughter and his treasures, on the pretext that the states of Castile having acknowledged Enrique, the latter had no wish to plunge the two kingdoms into war: all that he could obtain was permission to set out for Santiago with the resolution of proceeding thence to Coruña and embarking for Bayonne, to join his ally the Prince of Wales.

Pedro reached the city of Santiago about the middle of June. While there he resolved on the murder of the archbishop,—a resolution almost too extraordinary to be explained, yet sufficiently characteristic of the man, who, whenever blood was to be shed or plunder to be procured, little troubled himself about reasons for his conduct. The fortresses of the murdered prelate were immediately occupied. The assassin, leaving them, as well as the support of his interests, to the care of Fernando de Castro, proceeded with his daughter to Coruña, where, with a fleet of twenty-two sail, he embarked for Bayonne. Thus, in three short months, without a single battle on either side, was this cowardly tyrant deprived of a powerful kingdom.

The exiled king was well received by the English hero, who undertook to restore him to his throne. The treaty into which the two princes had entered rendered the aid of Edward almost imperative: besides, it was his interest to oppose the close ally of France; and his own personal ambition was not a little gratified by the offer of the lordship of Biscay, with 56,000 florins of gold for his own use and 550,000 for the support of his army. To ensure the punctual performance of the other conditions, Pedro delivered his daughters as hostages into the hands of the Black Prince. The enterprise was sanctioned by the English monarch, and the necessary preparations immediately commenced.

The preparations of the English prince being completed early in the spring of 1367, he passed the Pyrenees at Roncevaux and descended into the plains of Navarre. In his combined army of English, Normans, and Gascons were some of the flower of English chivalry. On the 2d of April the two hostile armies met west of Logroño, a few miles south of the Ebro. The Castilians immediately occupied the vicinity of Najera: the allies encamped at Navarrete. 1367 To spare the effusion of Christian blood, Edward sent a letter by a herald to the camp of Enrique, explaining the just causes which had armed the English monarch in defense of an ally and a relation, but offering, at the same time, to mediate between the two parties. His letter, which was addressed, “To the noble and powerful Prince Enrique, count of Trastamara,” not to the king of Castile, was courteously received by Enrique. In his reply he dwelt on the cruelties and oppressions of Pedro’s government, whose expulsion he represented as the act of an indignant nation, and expressed his resolution to maintain both that nation’s rights and his own by the sword.

The battle which decided the fate of the two kings commenced the following morning, April the 3d. The war-cries of “Guienne and St. George!” on the one side and of “Castile and Santiago!” on the other were soon drowned by the clash of arms, the shouts of the victors, and the groans of the dying. The struggle was for a short time desperate: but who could contend with the victor of Crécy and Poitiers? A fierce charge on the left wing of Enrique by the prince in person so terrified Don Tello, who commanded a body of cavalry, that he fled from the field: perhaps he was as treacherous as he was cowardly. Enrique fought nobly; so also did his antagonist, who, like his celebrated counterpart, Richard III. of England, was as brave as he was cruel. But after the flight of Don Tello the infantry of Castile began to give way, and after some desperate efforts by Enrique to support the contest, resistance was abandoned. The number of slain, however, on the part of the vanquished was only 8,000, a fact not very honorable to them. Many thousands were made prisoners, all but a handful who accompanied the defeated count into Aragon, whence he escaped into France. Success so splendid is seldom to be found in the annals of history: it at once restored Pedro to the Castilian throne. England, fruitful as she has been in heroes, can boast of few such glorious fields. But the heroic victor met with little gratitude from his faithless ally: as on a former occasion, the states of Biscay were secretly advised not to accept him for their ruler; and it was not without difficulty that he could obtain from Pedro an oath that the money due to his troops should be paid at two instalments,—the first in four, the second in twelve months.^[16] But what most 1367 disgusted the humane conqueror was the eagerness which the restored king showed to shed the blood of the prisoners. This he disdained to permit: he severely upbraided the tyrant for cherishing so sanguinary a disposition. Indeed, Pedro was forced to bend before the master-mind of Edward, and to refrain from shedding blood so long as he remained in Castile. That stay was but of short continuance: having made peace between the kings of Castile and Aragon, and admonished the former to procure the love of the people, he returned to Guienne.

From Burgos, where he had separated from the Black Prince, Pedro proceeded to Toledo, where he put to death some obnoxious individuals: far greater horrors he perpetrated in person at Cordova and by his emissaries at Seville. He breathed utter destruction against all who had shown any zeal in the service of Enrique, especially if they happened to have any wealth with which he might fill his empty coffers.

Towards the close of the year (1367) Enrique entered Spain by Roussillon, at the head of a very small force, not exceeding 400 lances. At first the king of Aragon attempted to arrest his progress through that kingdom, but with little zeal: the soldiers sent to oppose him connived at his passage into Navarre. Having passed the Ebro at Azagra and set foot on the Castilian territory, he drew a cross on the sand and by it swore that he would not desist from his undertaking while life remained. The neighboring inhabitants of Calahorra readily received him within their walls. He was there joined by many of the Castilian barons with considerable reinforcements, and by the archbishop of Toledo. His reception at Burgos was no less satisfactory. The example of this city constrained Cordova, which had suffered so much from the blood-thirsty Pedro, to declare for him. But he did not immediately proceed to the south: he turned his arms against some of the fortresses in Old Castile: Leon was besieged and taken; the Asturias submitted; Illescas, Buytrago, and Madrid opened their gates after a short struggle, and Toledo, which promised a more obstinate resistance, was invested. It is useful to observe that the resistance of these places was the work of the citizens who were generally attached to Pedro while the barons and hidalgos ^[17] were generally for Enrique. This circumstance gives great weight to 1369 the suspicion that, while Pedro ruled the privileged orders with an iron scepter, he favored the independence of the people.

The success of the invader roused Pedro to something like activity in defense of his tottering crown. His ally, the king of Granada, was persuaded to arm in his behalf, and to join him with 6,000 horse and 30,000 foot. His own troops did not much exceed 7,000, but the united force was formidable. Cordova was immediately assailed by the two kings, but the defense was so vigorous and the loss on the part of the besiegers so severe that the enterprise was soon abandoned. The troops of Mohammed V. returned to Granada, and though they afterwards took the field, they did so not so much to aid their ally as to derive some advantage for themselves from the confusion of the times. Toledo manfully resisted his assaults. To relieve that important city, which had now been invested nearly twelve months, Pedro left Seville early in March, 1369, and passed by Calatrava towards Montiel, with the intention of waiting for some reinforcements advancing from Murcia, before he ventured an action with his rival. Enrique now put his little army in motion, was joined by the grand master of Santiago, and arriving at Montiel with incredible dispatch, he immediately fell on the outposts of his rival and forced them precipitately into the fortress.

With a very inadequate force Pedro was now besieged in this place and cut off from all supplies, which yet reached Enrique every hour. What added to his difficulties was the want of provisions and of water, so that his men began to desert one by one to the enemy or retire to their respective homes. In this critical situation he meditated the means of escape. One of his knights, Mendo Rodriguez, who was on intimate terms with Bertrand du Guesclin, addressed his friend from the ramparts and expressed a wish to see him in secret. Du Guesclin assented, and told him to come that very night to the tent. Rodriguez was punctual to the engagement. On the part of his royal master he offered his friend the hereditary possession of Soria, Almazan, Monteagudo, Atienza, Deza, and Moron, with 200,000 doubloons in gold if the Breton knight would assist Pedro to escape. The knight replied that he could not accept the proposal, as he served in this war by order of his natural lord, the king of France. Rodriguez, however, advised him to think further of the proposal, which he promised to do and left him. Acting upon the advice of friends, he related the whole affair 1369 to Enrique, who thanked him for his fidelity, and said that he should have all that had been promised him, and even more, if he would draw Pedro to his tent and acquaint Enrique with the circumstance the moment it happened. The facility with which he consented to stain his knightly faith,—to bring everlasting infamy on his name,—may well raise a doubt whether he really felt the repugnance he pretended. However this be, he assured Mendo Rodriguez that he would provide for the safety of the king, and it was arranged that Pedro should leave the fortress on the evening of March 23, that he should repair to the Breton’s tent, and be escorted to a place of safety. At the hour appointed, accompanied by three of his confidential knights, the king silently repaired to the tent of his base betrayer. At the same moment Enrique, who had been made acquainted with his victim’s arrival, entered the tent, but did not at first know his brother,—so great was the alteration which a few years had made in that brother’s appearance. “There is your enemy!” said one of the attendants, pointing to the king: even yet he doubted, until Pedro cried out, “I am, I am!” Enrique then drew his dagger and wounded the king in the face. Both now grappled and fell to the ground, but the struggle was of short duration: the count was fully armed and probably aided by his satellites, and his poniard or theirs soon deprived the prostrate monarch of life.

Pedro, like England’s Richard III., whom he partially resembles, was probably no enemy to the humbler orders, but eager only to break the formidable power of the nobles. Even admitting, what is very probable, that his character has been somewhat unfairly treated by Ayala, if one-half the deeds narrated by that author were actually perpetrated by him,—and the careful minuteness with which they are recorded gives them the appearance of authenticity,—he has had but one equal in ferocity, and that one was the Czar Ivan IV. of Russia. That he was a man of lust as well as of cruelty is apparent from the number of his mistresses, to say nothing of his two pretended wives. Of his numerous issue, two daughters married into the royal family of England: Constanza, who espoused John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster; and Isabel, the wife of Edward, duke of York.

Enrique II. was the second and last monarch of illegitimate birth that ever reigned in Castile and Leon. It would be difficult to discover the ground on which this prince claimed the crown: if the 1313-1380 daughters of Pedro were illegitimate, they stood nearer to the throne than himself.

The difficulties with which the usurper had to contend were of no common order. Besides the places which recognized the Portuguese, Logroño, Vittoria, Salvatierra, and Campezo still adhered to Charles of Navarre; Molina and Requeña placed themselves under the protection of Aragon; and Carmona refused, when summoned, to receive Enrique. Add to this that Mohammed of Granada refused his alliance, but entered into one with King Ferdinand, and that Pedro of Aragon openly joined it, in consideration of Murcia and some fortresses in Castile, and his situation will appear sufficiently precarious. But, if he had no other virtues, he had courage; and he resolutely prepared to vindicate his illegitimate authority. At sea, too, his fleet was victorious over an English squadron which advanced against his ally the French king. It was to repair this check, as well as to gratify his own personal ambition, that the English duke of Lancaster, who had just married Constanza, daughter of Pedro the Cruel, assumed the title of king of Castile, and prepared to invade the kingdom.

The obscure though continued hostilities which followed merit little attention; the advantage of one day was neutralized by the reverse of the next. In 1373, indeed, Enrique penetrated as far as Lisbon, but he reduced no place of consequence, and he soon returned to his dominions with the barren glory of having insulted his royal enemy. Enrique died in 1379. In character he was as cruel as Pedro, as loose in morals and scarcely inferior as a tyrant. On the whole, however, he was a fortunate ruler. Either by bribes or force he reduced Galicia to obedience, recovered several places from the king of Navarre, whose capital he at one time invested, and overawed his neighbors of Portugal and Aragon.

Juan I. followed his father’s advice by cultivating the friendship of the French king, whom he frequently assisted in the interminable wars between that monarch and the English. Like his father, he had also to dread the pretensions of the duke of Lancaster; and it was equally his aim to occupy the ambitious Plantagenet with other affairs than disputing his succession.

To preserve Portugal as an ally, Juan, in the second year of his reign, consented or proposed to marry his infant son Enrique with Beatrix, presumptive heiress of the Lusitanian crown. Ferdinand of Portugal,—for what cause it would be vain to inquire,—secretly 1381-1385 resolved to make war on Castile; and, with the view of strengthening himself by the alliance of the duke of Lancaster, he dispatched a trusty messenger to obtain the co-operation of that prince, who readily promised it. Juan, who was soon acquainted with the league, resolved to anticipate his enemy: off Cape St. Vincent his fleet triumphed, in 1381, over that of Ferdinand, and Almeida was forced to submit to him. The arrival from England of the earl of Cambridge, brother of the duke, with 500 men-at-arms and as many archers roused the courage of the Portuguese, but did them little service. Wearied alike with his allies and the war, Ferdinand, in 1382, solicited and obtained peace, and the English returned home. The death of the queen of Castile leaving Enrique a widower, Ferdinand offered him the Princess Beatrix, who had been successively promised to his brother, to his two sons, and even to the son of the earl of Cambridge, on condition, however, that the issue of the marriage, whether male or female, should be the sovereign of Portugal, and that he himself should have no share in the administration so long as Leonora, the Portuguese queen, should survive Ferdinand. This condition, so characteristic of Portuguese dislike of Castilian sway, did not prevent Juan from marrying the princess. Ferdinand died the very year of this marriage, and his death opened the door to new hostilities.

Though Juan and his new queen were, in fact, excluded by the treaty accompanying their union, he no less eagerly claimed the crown in her right, and several of the Portuguese nobles admitted the justice of that claim. Even the widowed queen, Leonora, caused her daughter to be proclaimed in the capital, but the bulk of the towns and prelates refused to acknowledge her, and declared Don Juan, bastard brother of Ferdinand, regent of Portugal. The latter prepared to vindicate his right, when Urban VI., whom he had refused to recognize, raised up against him his old enemy, the duke of Lancaster, who was persuaded by that pope again to invade Castile. The usurper Juan was no less anxious to secure the co-operation of the Plantagenet, whose departure to claim the crown of Castile he began to urge with success. To frustrate the double object of this alliance, the Castilian, in 1384, entered the kingdom, received the homage of his adherents, and proceeded to invest the capital: but his troops were ignobly defeated by those of his rival; even the queen-mother scorned to favor his pretensions, and he was constrained to abandon the siege and return into his dominions. 1385-1387 In 1385 the states of Coimbra proclaimed his rival king, who began vigorously to invest the places which held for him. Fortune attended the arms of the Lusitanian, who successively obtained possession of the chief fortified places, and, in several partial engagements, was hailed as victor. A greater and a decisive action was now at hand. Though he had but 10,000 men, he marched against the Castilian king, who met him with an army of at least 34,000, in which were 2,000 French knights. The two armies met near Aljubarota, a village in Portuguese Estremadura, where, by the advice of the English knight who served in his army, the Lusitanian entrenched his followers in a position of some strength. The action commenced towards sunset on a fine summer evening (August 14) and was, for a short time, maintained with great spirit on both sides. In the end the Portuguese obtained a splendid victory, most of the Castilian chivalry and 10,000 of the infantry being left dead on the field: the king himself with difficulty effected his escape.

To profit by this victory, the Portuguese monarch commanded his barons to make an irruption into Castile, while he himself dispatched to the duke of Lancaster a circumstantial account of this signal success. The latter now burned to assert his rights by other means than threats, or by the mere report of his preparations: he actually left England with a small but choice armament (about 1,500 knights and as many archers), accompanied by his wife, the Lady Constanza, and his three daughters. In July, 1386, he appeared off the coast of Galicia, and ultimately landed at El Padron: thence he proceeded to Santiago, where he was solemnly proclaimed king of Castile and Leon. In the spring of 1387 the duke and the Portuguese king arrived at Benevento; but their progress was stayed by the plague, which daily made great ravages in their ranks. After the conquest of a few towns and fortresses the allied army retired into Portugal. The duke himself was seriously indisposed in body, and consequently dispirited. Their retreat was hastened by intelligence of the troubles which raged in England, and which ended in the imprisonment and eventually the death of the unfortunate Richard II.

The reign of Juan I. was one of continued troubles, which, though his abilities were moderate, his firmness prevented from ruining the state, or endangering his own power. Once indeed, during the disputed succession to the Lusitanian crown, he seriously intended to resign in favor of his own son Enrique, who, as the son 1390-1418 of Beatrix, daughter of Ferdinand, was the true heir to the Portuguese no less than the Castilian throne. His object was to secure the execution of the treaty made with that prince and forever to unite the two crowns. But his nobles, who were evidently no less averse to such a union than their western neighbors, not merely advised but compelled him to preserve his dignity. The last years of his reign were disturbed by the hostilities of those neighbors, but they were too obscure in themselves and too unimportant in their consequences to deserve notice.

Enrique III., surnamed the Infirm, being no more than eleven years of age on his accession, no one will be surprised that in so turbulent a kingdom his minority should occasion many dissensions.

When in 1393 the young king assumed the reins of sovereignty hopes were naturally entertained that growing passions would be hushed, and rival factions reconciled, before the concentrated power of royalty. But though Enrique showed no want of spirit, or even of energy, he was unable to restore internal peace. The ambition of his uncle Fadrique, duke of Benevento, and the hostility of the Lusitanian king, gave him sufficient occupation and made the minds of his people strangers to security. Others of his subjects, among whom was another uncle, the count de Gijon, were not slow to profit by the example of the duke of Benevento, nor were these commotions appeased by the force so much as by the liberalities of Enrique. As to the war with Portugal, its only notable success was the surprise of Badajoz by King Juan. Enrique, indeed, had his revenge by some inroads into the enemy’s territory, but neither by force nor negotiation could he recover the bulwark of Estremadura. A truce of ten years, concluded in the last year of the fourteenth century, restored tranquillity to his harassed frontier.

Enrique was a well-intentioned prince, and beloved by his people, whose burdens he sought to alleviate. In 1401 he convoked the Cortes at Tordesillas, where he caused to be enacted many excellent laws, circumscribing the powers and restraining the rapacity of the judges. He died the first day of the year 1407, leaving a son, the infante Juan, by his queen, Catherine, under two years of age.

Juan II. being at so tender an age, fears were entertained lest the infante Fernando, brother to the late king, who in conjunction with the queen-mother was intrusted with the regency, should seize the crown. The factions which flourished at court soon extended 1419-1427 their ramifications into the great towns of the kingdom. In 1418 Catherine herself paid the common debt of nature, and from the time of her feeble son’s assuming the sovereignty may be dated a melancholy series of commotions and disasters.

From the day in which Juan assembled his first Cortes (held at Madrid in March, 1419), he exhibited the moral weakness of his character, and too plainly showed that his mind was formed for obedience, not for command. This reign, in consequence, ought not so much to be called his own as that of his favorites, especially of Don Alvaro de Luna, a man fatally memorable in the Castilian annals. The first serious disturbance arose from the disappointed love or ambition of Don Enrique, infante of Aragon, who claimed the hand of the Princess Catalina, the king’s sister. Being repulsed by that princess, and disappointed in his hope of aid from the favorites of Juan, he resolved to effect by force what he could not obtain by other means.

Juan had neither vigor enough to punish his enemies nor gratitude enough to reward his adherents. While Enrique long escaped with impunity, rather through the impotence than favor of the king, those who had rescued him from thraldom were wholly overlooked. The people soon saw that the dominion of one set of favorites was only replaced by that of another. After remaining in arms about two years, Enrique at length, confiding in the royal protestations of clemency, laid down his arms, proceeded to court, and was immediately imprisoned. The dignity of constable was taken from Ruy Lopez de Avalos, then in Valencia, and conferred on Alvaro de Luna, and the possessions of that baron were distributed among the hungry parasites of the court. At length, in 1425, Enrique obtained both his liberty and the restoration of his honors and estates through the threats rather than the entreaties of his brother, the king of Aragon. He retired to Tarazona.

If Enrique was absent from the kingdom, he had yet many adherents who wished for his return. The league formed against Don Alvaro gained accessions every day. As early as 1427 it was bold enough to present a remonstrance to the king, insisting on the dismission of that baron and others from his councils. Jealousy of his immense favor appears to have been the only cause of the persecution urged against him. For the time, however, Alvaro was compelled to retire to Ayllon, carrying with him the affections of the king; and Enrique returned to the court in the hope of resuming 1427-1439 his former influence. But the exiled constable, like the prince, had his partisans, who, knowing the royal sentiments, did not despair of procuring his honorable recall. To this end they labored so effectually; such were the troubles they artfully contrived to excite, which they represented as impossible to be allayed by any other than himself; such too were the dissensions of those who now aspired to the king’s confidence, and who were more jealous of one another than even of Alvaro,—that in a few short months he was invited to resume his place in the councils of the kingdom. He pretended great reluctance to leave his retirement, and did not comply with the invitation until it had been thrice made.

No sooner was the constable re-established in his master’s favor than he was again exposed to the sting of the courtly insects. The discontented Castilians had no difficulty in forming against him a new league, supported as before by the brother kings of Aragon and Navarre. Finding that remonstrances were of no avail, the two sovereigns invaded Castile, protesting that they would see justice done their brother Enrique, and a second time remove the favorite, whom they professed to regard not only as his enemy but their own. Having effected a junction with the infante, they marched against the constable, whom they met near Coguallado. The forces of both parties were preparing for action, when after a few unimportant actions, in which no advantage was gained on either side, both agreed on a truce of five years.

During the next few years Castile, at peace with all her neighbors except Granada, offers nothing to strike the attention. Murmurs at the gradually increasing power of the constable, whom the king took every opportunity of enriching, and without whose advice nothing was undertaken, were indeed sufficiently frequent; but no open revolt agitated the kingdom until 1439. Now, however, a new league was formed against him, headed as usual by Enrique and the king of Navarre (Alfonso of Aragon was no longer in a state to dictate to his brother of Castile), the members of which loudly demanded the removal of the obnoxious favorite. To dispel the approaching storm, Don Alvaro retired for a time from the court; but the confederates refused to lay down their arms until he should be forever driven from the royal presence. To appease his barons, the king convoked his Cortes at Valladolid: such a step was become necessary, for the leaguers had seized on some of his chief cities and were preparing to proceed still further. 1443-1445 The first act of the assembly was to recommend that all parties should disarm—the king as well as the infante, the constable as well as the king of Navarre. But this recommendation led to no result; both parties continued exasperated as before. That of the king was weakened by the desertion of his only son, Prince Enrique, who espoused the cause of the confederates. The queen followed the example of her son: in short, the aspect of affairs was so menacing that Don Alvaro began to turn his eyes towards Portugal in search of an asylum. Through the persuasion of the king, however, who assured him that everything should be arranged to his wish, he consented to await the result.

The horrors of internal strife were now felt in all their force: city after city was invested and taken by the confederate rebels, who showed little mercy to the partisans of the king and constable. In vain did Juan whisper peace; in vain did he prepare to abide by the decision of his states, which he might summon for the purpose: as he did not at once and forever banish Don Alvaro from his presence, his entreaties and remonstrances were equally disregarded. At length, finding that he was unable to contend with his queen, his son, and his barons, he consented, in a conference with the chiefs of the insurgents, not only to dismiss from court all the creatures of the constable, but to forbid the obnoxious favorite his presence during six years. The indiscretion, however, of Don Alvaro, who from his retreat at San Martin unsuccessfully endeavored to sow dissension among the confederates, made them resolve on his utter destruction. Their first object, which they easily effected, was to keep their sovereign a kind of prisoner in his own palace. Though their subsequent efforts were somewhat paralyzed by the defection of Prince Enrique, who even called on all good men to aid him in rescuing his father from a slavish dependence on them, they persevered not the less in their design. They took the field against both the prince and the father, who now contrived to escape, and reach the camp of the former. But on this occasion fortune declared for the side of justice; the confederates were routed and dispersed in several successive actions and their strong places recovered by the royal forces. Finally, the victory of Olmedo, gained by Juan in person over the two brothers, the acquisition of a considerable number of prisoners, and the death of Enrique, through a wound received in that battle, appeared to consolidate both the power of the king and the influence of the favorite.

Soon after the battle of Olmedo the partiality of the monarch began to be weakened. The first known subject of dissatisfaction1445-1453 arose from the negotiations for a new marriage (the king had been some time a widower): Juan wished for a daughter of Charles VII. of France; the constable forced on him a princess of Portugal. Such, however, was his habitual submission to the will of the favorite, that he concealed his discontent, and shortly afterwards even prevailed on the knights of Santiago to elect the constable for their grand master. In short, besides the habitual sway which he exercised over the royal mind, he was too powerful, both from his alliances and the number of his armed dependents, to be bearded even by a king. Years accordingly elapsed before Juan could put into execution his long-meditated design of destroying his constable. It was not until the year 1453 that he seriously resolved to rid himself of his formidable minister; and the caution with which he proceeded in that resolution proves at once the cowardice and meanness of his character. Instead of openly arresting the constable, he secretly implored the count de Plasencia to seize or even to assassinate Don Alvaro. But the latter, who had spies everywhere, was soon acquainted with much of what had been decided against him.

Don Alvaro was at Burgos when the order for his arrest was given by the king to the son of the count de Plasencia, to take him dead or alive. During the night troops were secretly placed in various parts of the city, and at the entrance of the fortress, into which some men-at-arms were silently introduced. The royal order was to invest the house in which the constable resided, and thereby compel him to surrender. Accordingly, the young Zuniga, with 200 men-at-arms and twenty horsemen, surrounded the house, exclaiming, “Castilla! Castilla! libertad para el Rey!” The constable showed his head from a window, but an arrow being shot at him, he withdrew it, and his men began to fire on the royal troops. The assault was repelled, but he himself was at length persuaded to surrender, on receiving an assurance in writing, under the king’s own hand, that his life, liberty, and even possessions should be spared. No sooner, however, was he secured than his gold and jewels were seized by the faithless monarch, and orders given to try—in other words, to condemn him. Twelve lawyers and several barons, being assembled for this purpose, unanimously passed on him the last sentence, and the confiscation of all his possessions. 1453-1458 From Burgos he was conducted to Valladolid, where the execution was appointed to take place. He prepared for death with firmness, and with apparent contrition for his past misdeeds. When near the scaffold he called a page of the prince, and said to him, “Page, tell my lord the prince to reward his servants better than the king my sovereign now rewards me!” He ascended with a firm step, knelt for a few moments before a crucifix, bared his neck with his own hands, and quietly laid his head on the block, when the executioner plunged the knife into his throat, and afterwards separated the head from the body, amidst the tears of the surrounding multitude.

Thus fell the great constable of Castile, the victim chiefly of his own immeasurable ambition, and in no mean degree of courtier jealousy, and of royal faithlessness. If his crimes were many, they were characteristic rather of the age than of the man: he was certainly no more criminal than the great body of the Castilian barons, who despised alike justice and reason when violence could secure their ends. To him the queen was indebted for her crown, yet she persecuted him with unrelenting hatred.

Juan II. did not long survive the constable: he died in 1454. He was one of the weakest and most despicable princes that ever swayed the scepter of any country. Besides two sons, he left issue the infante Isabella, so famous in the annals of Spain.

The reign of Enrique IV., surnamed the Impotent, was even more disastrous than that of his father. That this surname was not undeserved, we have the testimony of his own wife, Blanche of Navarre, whom he led to the altar in 1440, and who, after a union of thirteen years, could complain that the debitum conjugale remained unpaid. On this ground in 1453 marriage was annulled, and the unfortunate princess returned to her family. After his accession, however, he solicited and obtained the hand of a Portuguese infanta.

From the rebellious conduct of this prince towards his own father, it could scarcely be expected that he would be allowed to sway the scepter in peace. Besides the disputes which he had with the crowns of Navarre and Aragon, he was perpetually subjected to the insults no less than the defiance of his turbulent nobles, and to the partial revolts of the people whom the exactions of his revenue officers never failed to exasperate. In 1458 his subjects were not a little surprised to perceive among his advisers and new favorites 1458-1467 Doña Guiomar de Castro, one of the queen’s attendants. The notorious imputation cast on his virility might probably have driven him to such a step; possibly, too, as he and his creatures contended, time had invigorated him. However this be, certain it is that the queen was jealous of the new mistress, though that jealousy might arise as much from seeing another the exclusive channel of royal favors as from a more delicate cause. On one occasion she exhibited the feeling in a manner little decorous. To prevent the repetition of such scenes, the minion was removed from the palace and splendidly established at a village in the vicinity of Madrid.

In the meantime, the confederates seeing the ill-success of their former remonstrance, again proceeded to strengthen their league: they presented a second, drawn up in more decided terms than the preceding; and, besides, insisted that the king should pay more regard to the education of the infantes, Alfonso and Isabella, and cause the former to be recognized as his heir by the states of the kingdom. As his answer was evasive, they again placed the king of Aragon and Navarre ^[18] at their head, and labored by every means to obstruct the course of his government. Hostilities between him and that monarch were the consequence; but they led to nothing. His satisfaction was increased by the pregnancy of his queen, who, early in 1462, was delivered of a daughter, the infanta Juana. Though popular report did not hesitate to assign the child to the familiarity of the mother with Don Beltran de la Cueva, count of Ledesma, one of Enrique’s favorites, and even applied to that issue the significant epithet of Beltraneja, the latter was the no less eager in securing the recognition of the princess as heiress to his dominions.

In 1464, after some partially unsuccessful inroads into Catalonia, the inhabitants of which had placed themselves under his protection, and even acknowledged him as their sovereign, Enrique made peace with the Aragonese, and thereby forsook the Catalans. But if one enemy was thus appeased, a more formidable one remained in his own barons and courtiers, who were generally in arms against him, and who constantly refused even to confer with him in person until he had given hostages for their safety. Their avowed object was still to procure the recognition of the infante Alfonso, to the exclusion of the Beltraneja, whom nobody regarded as his.

Enrique was naturally anxious to punish the rebels, but their attitude was too formidable for him. They continued under arms,1467-1469 besieging fortress after fortress, and wreaking vengeance alike on their personal and political enemies. Thus continued the face of affairs until 1467, when Enrique resolved to risk a battle with the rebels. He met them near Olmedo, where, after a fierce but indecisive struggle, both armies left the field, each boasting of the victory. This event, however, did not prevent the king from meeting the leaders at Segovia, where a suspension of arms was agreed on. The following year his rival, the infante Alfonso, died,—an event highly favorable to the king. The rebels, indeed, proposed to raise the infanta Isabella, his sister, to the throne, and thereby perpetuate their own impunity; but that princess, who had principles and an understanding far above her years, refused to accept the criminal dignity or to become the tool of a few factious rebels. Though she was proclaimed at Seville and other parts of Andalusia, the treason was not hers, but her pretended partisans’. Some of the discontented lords now returned to their duty; finally peace was made between the king and the rest: Isabella and Enrique met with every appearance of good will and that princess was recognized, both by him and the great body of the barons and deputies, as the undoubted heiress of the two crowns. The queen, indeed, protested against this arrangement in favor of her daughter, but her complaints passed unheeded.

In the same year was laid the foundation of a union which was to prove of such unbounded value to Spain: Juan II. of Aragon solicited the hand of Isabella of Castile for his son and heir Don Ferdinand, king of Sicily. The overture was formally received by the princess, but obstacles of so formidable a nature intervened that for some time there was little hope of a successful issue to the negotiations. Neither the king nor the queen wished to see the cause of Isabella supported by so powerful a neighbor as the future monarch of Aragon would necessarily be; but her adherents decided on bringing the affair as soon as possible to a conclusion. The whole negotiation was secretly conducted, the rather as the princess was sought both by the duke de Berri, brother to the French king, and by the monarch of Portugal, whose agents were sure to oppose every obstacle in their power to the union with Aragon. For a time she was a prisoner in Madrigal, where it was evidently intended to detain her until she gave her consent to either the Portuguese 1469-1474 or the Frenchman. The former was considered too old to have issue, the latter was too far removed to be dreaded. She contrived to acquaint her friends with her unexpected position. The primate immediately collected 300 lances and marched to her relief: the admiral of Castile and the bishop of Curia did the same: she was released and triumphantly escorted to Valladolid. Ferdinand was invited to hasten from Aragon with all possible expedition, while Enrique was absent in Andalusia, and receive his bride. As he was likely to be intercepted on his reaching the Castilian territory, he assumed a suitable disguise, and with three attendants only, eluded the design of his enemies. On October 25, 1469, the royal pair received the nuptial benediction in the cathedral of Valladolid.

No sooner was Enrique acquainted with this precipitate marriage than he resolved to leave no measure untried for securing the crown to the Beltraneja. On the other hand, the Princess Isabella was not backward in publishing her claims, the validity of which had been recognized by Enrique himself. On the whole, however, the partisans of Isabella increased, while Enrique was unable to find his pretended daughter a husband and protector in any of the neighboring royal families. To suspend, at least, the strife which had so long raged between the parties, he was persuaded, in 1473, to hold an interview with his sister, and the pleasure which he evidently took in seeing her made her adherents hope that he would again sanction her rights. The hope was strengthened, when, at Segovia, early in the following year, he showed considerable attention to Ferdinand himself. But this king was too fickle in disposition and too mutable in character to persevere long in any given line of conduct: he again sought for an opportunity of entrapping and imprisoning the infanta and her husband, but his purpose was divined and eluded. This weak monarch,—weak even to helplessness,—died near the close of 1474; by his last will he declared the young Juana his successor, and charged four of his most considerable barons with its execution. The desire of wiping away the stain on his manhood did not forsake him even on the verge of the grave.

On the death of Enrique, Ferdinand was at Saragossa: but his consort, being at Segovia, summoned that city to acknowledge her and was instantly obeyed: by the nobles and prelates present both were solemnly proclaimed joint sovereigns of Castile and Leon. On his return from Aragon there was much dispute 1474-1479 as to the power he was to exercise in the administration. After frequent and acrimonious consultations it was agreed that the king and queen should reign conjointly, and that in all public acts his name should precede hers; but, to save her rights, or rather to satisfy Castilian jealousy, it was no less stipulated that without her express sanction he should not have power to alienate any portion of the royal revenues or domains nor to nominate the governors of towns or fortresses. These restrictions were far from pleasing to Ferdinand, who was immoderately fond of power, and who, at first, even threatened to return into his hereditary kingdom. His indignation was disarmed by the prudence of the queen, who, by promising submission to his will, averted so fatal a misfortune.

But if the majority of the people were in favor of the new reign, there were yet many barons, and those of considerable influence, who espoused the interests of Juana, not so much from attachment to that princess, whose birth they, in common with the rest of the nation, considered dubious, as from a view to their own individual advantage. However important the stake for which the two parties now began to contend, the details of that contention are too obscure in themselves, and were too indecisive, to merit minute attention. At length Alfonso was compelled to listen to pacific proposals. Negotiations were opened, and in September, 1479, satisfactorily concluded at Alcacebas. The principal conditions were that Alfonso should renounce the title of king of Castile; that he should neither marry, nor in any way favor the pretensions of Doña Juana; that “this pretended daughter of the late king, Don Enrique,” should be allowed six months to decide whether she would wait until the infante Juan (only child of Ferdinand and Isabella, then only a year old) arrived at a marriageable age, or take the veil; that the Portuguese should restore the few places they still held in Estremadura. It was added that if, on arriving at a proper age, the infante should be averse to the match, he had only to pay 100,000 pistoles to be at liberty to marry whom he pleased. The unfortunate lady, seeing that she was sacrificed to the interests of the two kings, professed in the convent of St. Clair at Coimbra.

The very year in which peace was thus happily restored between Castile and Portugal, Ferdinand by the death of his father, Juan II., was called to the throne of Aragon. Having received the homage and confirmed the privileges of his Aragonese subjects at 1484-1520 Saragossa, of the Catalonians at Barcelona, and of the Valencians in the capital of that province, he returned into Castile.

The reign of Ferdinand and Isabella was distinguished for many uncommon things. First, they were noted for a rigid administration of justice: neither for money nor favor would they spare the guilty. If the salutary severity of these sovereigns had been directed only against the perturbators of the public peace, the brightness of their fame would almost have been unclouded. Unfortunately they were equally severe against all who ventured to differ from the established faith. Against apostates,—all converts who, after baptism reverted to Judaism, or the faith of Islam,—their hatred was implacable. In this apostasy Andalusia was the most conspicuous. The inquisitional tribunal of Seville, alone, in the short space of thirty-six years,—from 1484 to 1520,—consigned 4,000 victims to the flames, besides many times that number condemned to the galleys, to a perpetual or limited imprisonment, and other punishments. Humanity shudders at the recital.

The intolerance, no less than the folly, of the Catholic sovereigns was still more conspicuous in regard to the Jews. Scarcely had they obtained possession of Granada than they promulgated a decree in which all Jews who refused to embrace Christianity were ordered to be expelled from the kingdom in six months. That persecuted people were filled with equal astonishment and dismay at this unexpected mandate. Many consented to be baptized, but the far greater number, in profound despair, prepared to leave the country of their birth. On the expiration of the period prescribed, 83,000 removed into Portugal, the king of which consented to receive them, on the condition of their submitting to a capitation tax of one crusado for every individual. About 30,000 families retired to France, Italy, and Africa, the means of transport being furnished them by the government. By the Moors—the most detestable, because the most perfidious and cruel nation on earth—they were treated with characteristic barbarity. Many of them were known, and more suspected, to have swallowed precious stones; their living bodies were opened by the savage miscreants. All who fell into Moorish hands were stripped, not only of their substance, but of their very clothing. Such as escaped returned gradually and in small numbers at a time to the Peninsula, which, to the converts, held out the hand of hospitality, and even of brotherly affection.

The establishment of the inquisition led to the banishment of the Jews; the latter, in its turn, to the persecution of the Mohammedans.1492 These soon found that their religious toleration, so solemnly guaranteed by the articles of capitulation, would be little respected by a prince who did not always hesitate to break his royal word—nor even his oath—when his interests or his bigotry were concerned. It is certain that from the very year in which Granada submitted the resolution was taken to convert or expel the Moors; but their numbers, the assistance they might receive from Africa, and the unsettled state of the new conquest delayed its execution. In 1499, however, Ferdinand, being at Granada, seriously entered on what he doubtless considered a path of stern but necessary duty.

In other respects the policy of Ferdinand was as enlightened as it was beneficial to the country. The great barons had been too powerful for his predecessors; to curtail their immunities was his constant object. By encouraging the confederations of the towns he effectually destroyed their influence over those places and, by subjecting them to the ordinary tribunals of justice, he still further reduced them towards a level with his other subjects.

The final subjugation of the Mohammedans, the consolidation of the royal power, the union of Aragon to Castile and Leon, were noble monuments of Ferdinand’s policy. The discovery of a new world by the famous navigator, Christopher Columbus, still more strongly attracts the notice of posterity to this splendid reign. Into the vast field of American discovery, colonization, and history, whether by Spaniards or Portuguese,—a subject which, to do it full justice, would demand as many pages as this compendium itself,—we cannot enter; and, fortunately, most of the works on this subject are of so easy access that our silence need not be regretted. To Isabella must be ascribed the glory of the enterprise. At first she received with natural coldness the proposals of this wonderful man; but overcome at length by the representation of a monk, the friend of Columbus, and still more by the resistless reasoning of the navigator himself, whom she admitted to her presence, she borrowed the sum of money necessary for the armament and bade him depart. This was in April, 1492. In the same month of the following year he returned from this first voyage, bringing with him a considerable quantity of gold, silver, and other productions of the New World,—with several Indians,—convincing proofs of his successful adventure. The extraordinary honors with which he 1493-1500 was received by the astonished sovereigns,—being permitted to remain seated in their presence, and created admiral of the Indies, with suitable means of supporting the dignity,—encouraged him to new enterprises. With a fleet of eighteen vessels, containing 1,200 seamen, 300 mechanics, 12 priests, to convert the heathens, and a considerable number of horses, sheep, etc., he again left Spain, in the month of September, 1493, and happily reached his destination. On returning from his second voyage, being driven by stress of weather into the port of Lisbon, he was compelled to acquaint Don Joam with the productions, climate, and riches of the New World, and the monarch’s eagerness for wealth and empire was so excited that he resolved to fit out some vessels of discovery in the same direction. But as, by a papal bull, the sovereignty both of the regions which had been and might thenceforward be discovered was conferred on Ferdinand and his successors, Joam could not decently bid the expedition depart until he had given notice of his intention to the Castilian sovereigns. This having been done, and arbitration having settled the boundaries which interested Portugal, the two monarchs divided between themselves the maritime dominion of the globe; nor could they see how soon the rude hands of the English and Dutch would break their scepter.

But the happiness of the Catholic sovereigns was not commensurate with the splendor which surrounded them. To whom must their magnificent empire devolve? In 1497 the infante Juan their only son, whom they had just married to the Archduchess Margarita of Austria, died, and his widow was soon afterwards brought to bed of a still-born child. Hence their daughters only remained through whom they could hope to transmit their scepter to posterity; but even in this expectation they were doomed to much disappointment. Doña Isabella, the eldest of the princesses, who was married to the heir of the Portuguese monarchy, was left a widow as soon as the Archduchess Margarita, and though she was next given to her brother-in-law, Don Manuel, now become king of Portugal, and the following year was delivered of a son, she died at the time; nor did the young prince, the acknowledged heir of the whole Peninsula, Navarre excepted, long survive her. Still, to be prepared against every possible contingency, they married another daughter, the Princess Maria, to the Lusitanian widower; and their youngest, Catherine, destined to be so famous from her connection with the English Reformation, first to Arthur, 1500-1504 Prince of Wales, and next to Henry, his brother, afterwards Henry VIII. Their hope of an heir, however, rested in their second daughter, Juana, the wife of Philip, Archduke of Austria, who, in 1500, was delivered of a prince, afterwards Charles V.

Thus, the crown of Spain was to devolve on a foreign brow,—the first example of the kind which had occurred from the foundation of the monarchy by Pelayo. Their disappointments, too, were embittered by the unhappiness of their children. The Princess Isabella, who had always shown more affection for the cloister than for the throne, had been forced into the marriage and died a premature and painful death. Juana, though extravagantly fond of her husband, was treated by him with the most marked neglect, and the fate of Catherine is but too well known.

The misfortunes of her children sunk deeply into the heart of the queen, and brought on a melancholy which ended in her death, at Medina del Campo, in 1504. In her last will she left her daughter Juana, and after that princess her grandson Charles, heirs to the monarchy. As Juana was too weak in understanding to be intrusted with the cares of government, she appointed her husband regent of the kingdom until Charles should attain his twentieth year. In this disposition she consulted both her own inclination and the interests of her people, as she had a natural dislike to the vain, weak, and profligate Philip, and knew that the administration could not be continued in abler hands than those which held it. To Ferdinand, too, she bequeathed the administration of the three military orders during his life and half the revenues of the Indies.

If we except Queen Elizabeth and Catherine of Russia, no princess of modern times can equal Isabella in ability or in the success of her administration: and, in the qualities of her heart, in Christian fervor, and an unspotted life, how far does she not exceed either! Prudent in the formation, yet prompt in the execution, of her plans; severe towards guilt, yet merciful towards misfortune; unbending in her purposes, yet submissive to her husband; of rigid virtue, yet indulgent to minor frailties; devout without ostentation, and proud without haughtiness; feeling towards the pains of others, yet exhibiting no sentiment of her own, she might well command the respect, no less than the affection, of her people.

But already, before Isabella breathed her last, had the dissensions commenced which so much embittered the life of her 1504-1505 husband. That, by the Castilian laws, Juana was now both queen and proprietor of the kingdom, and that Philip, in right of his marriage, might claim not only the regal title, but a considerable share in the administration, were admitted by many. On the other hand, the last will of Isabella, who had constituted her husband regent until the majority of Charles—the experience of that prince—the success of his past government—the solid benefits which he had conferred on the state,—and the unpopular character of Philip, as well as his ignorance of the language, laws, and manners of Castile,—induced all the sober-judging and patriotic part of the nation to wish for a continuance of the present rule. Unfortunately, however, the momentous question was agitated with more prejudice than reason. The efforts of Ferdinand to curb the violence of the aristocracy—his prudent economy—his firm sway,—and the aversion of many Castilians to the sole domination of an Aragonese, had created many enemies. More hoped that under a weak and lenient prince like Philip their love of power and their avarice would be equally gratified. Hence, it is no wonder that an opposition, at once systematic and violent, was formed to the pretensions of Ferdinand,—an opposition too loud to permit the soft whisper of policy or gratitude to be heard.

Ferdinand was fond of power, and his first steps showed that he would strive to maintain it. Having caused his daughter and her husband to be proclaimed queen and king of Castile, he convoked the Cortes at Toro, early in 1505, to procure their sanction to his regency. The majority readily granted it; but not a few of the discontented, because disappointed, nobles retired from Toro in disgust, assembled others of the same faction at Valladolid, and pressed Philip to come and assume the administration of the kingdom. Philip then entered into an alliance with Charles VIII. of France, the enemy of Ferdinand, by whose aid he hoped to make head against the regent. In the meantime the factious nobles, who, though constituting a minority in point of numbers, were all-powerful from their stations and alliances, continually urged Philip to appear among them, and throw every obstacle in the path of the regent. Seeing the ungrateful return of a people for whom he had done so much,—whose glory and happiness he had so successfully labored to promote,—and still more offended, perhaps, with the insults of his profligate son-in-law, the king of Aragon seriously planned revenge; it was to remarry and leave 1506 to the issue arising from it the kingdom of Naples, which he had united with Aragon, or, perhaps even Aragon itself. Concealing his long enmity towards Charles, he solicited the hand of Germaine de Foix, niece of that monarch, who eagerly granted it. This intelligence was a thunderbolt to Philip, who now consented to negotiate; and it was accordingly agreed, by the agents of the two princes at Salamanca that the kingdom should be governed by Juana, Ferdinand, and Philip,—each possessing equal authority; and that all public instruments should bear the three names. The Austrian, however, had no intention of observing the treaty: early in 1506 he embarked for Spain with his consort, but contrary winds forced him to England, where he was detained, during three months, by the ungenerous policy of Henry VII. The king of France had refused him a passage through that kingdom until he had come to a better understanding with the regent:—in fact, Charles could not, as a close ally of Ferdinand, permit an expedition through his states, evidently hostile to that ally. When Ferdinand heard of the archduke’s embarkation, he caused prayers to be offered up for a prosperous voyage, and ordered a fleet to be equipped to convoy the new sovereigns into the Peninsula. He had just celebrated his marriage with the Princess Germaine when his daughter and the archduke landed at Coruña.

No sooner was Philip landed than the nobles disaffected to Ferdinand hastened to meet him, and, by their sinister reports, to increase his jealousy of the regent. To dissipate his suspicions, Ferdinand sent the Archbishop Ximines, his steadfast counselor, who was charged with the appropriate duty of restoring concord between the two princes. But the arrogance of Philip, who was entirely led by the advice of his Flemings and the discontented Castilians, caused him not only to do everything which he knew would mortify his father-in-law, but to refuse an interview frequently requested by Ferdinand. From the levity—we might add, the perfidy—with which he annulled the treaty of Salamanca, and openly declared his resolution to expel Ferdinand from Castile, the latter, though still disposed to peace, saw that it was high time for him to prepare for the worst. He ordered troops to be raised, both to vindicate his own right and to rescue his daughter from the ignominious restraint in which she was kept by her husband. Owing, however, to the artful representations of the disaffected barons, the party of Philip increased daily, and Ferdinand was, 1506 at length, compelled to resign the regency into the hands of the archduke alone, Juana being by both considered incompetent to govern. He retained the grandmastership and administration of the three military orders, with the other legacies of Isabella, and after two interviews with Philip returned to his hereditary dominions.

Having gained the object of his ambition, Philip convoked the Cortes at Valladolid, in the hope that he should procure their consent to the removal of the queen from all affairs; in other words, to her perpetual confinement, on the ground of her incapacity. The opposition, however, which he there encountered made him abandon his iniquitous purpose. All that the states would do was to swear allegiance to Juana as their natural sovereign, to him as her consort, and to acknowledge the Archduke Charles, their son, as heir to the crown. Before he had time to become unpopular he fell suddenly sick at Burgos, and died in five months after his arrival in Spain, and three from the commencement of his administration.

Immediately after Philip’s death the Castilian nobles assembled to consult on the form of government. As the queen refused to give any orders on the subject they chose a council of seven from among themselves, to whom they provisionally confided the conduct of affairs. Men with equal authority and conflicting views could not long remain in harmony: they felt that their own power was insecure, and each was anxious to look out for some superior whose favor he might obtain. All perceived that, until Prince Charles reached his majority, there must be a regency; that their own jealousies could not confide it to a native, and that there were but two foreigners to whom it could be intrusted,—Ferdinand and the Emperor Maximilian, father of the deceased king. Of course, the reflecting part of the nation were in favor of the experienced Aragonese; but such as feared his resentment, and, still more, those who knew the vigor of his scepter and his frugality, loudly clamored for the Austrian. The turbulent conduct of the nobles, who began to renew the scenes which had so disgraced the reigns of Juan II. and Enrique IV.; who ruthlessly trampled under foot all law and order, and purposed to wrap the kingdom in flames, increased the anxiety and hastened the exertions of every friend to the public tranquillity. The illustrious Cisneros, above all, one of the temporary regents, spared 1507-1511 neither expostulation nor entreaties to ensure the recall of Ferdinand. That prince was in Italy when he received intelligence of Philip’s death. He showed no great haste to return; his emissaries and friends exerted themselves so well in his behalf that his resumption of the regency was soon acknowledged to be the only means of saving a kingdom already on the brink of ruin. At length in July, 1507, he disembarked at Valencia, whence he proceeded to Saragossa, where, having appointed his young queen-regent of the kingdom, he went into Castile. By his daughter he was immediately invested with the whole power of government, and by degrees his authority was recognized throughout the kingdom. Before him insurrection quailed, the laws resumed their empire, and prosperity revisited the people.

The second administration of this able prince was signalized by the same splendid effects. In 1509, at the suggestion of Cardinal Cisneros, he proposed an expedition against Oran on the African coast. The cardinal not only defrayed the expense, but accompanied it. It was completely successful: Oran was stormed and forced to receive a Christian garrison. The following year Bugia, a city on the same coast, was reduced; Algiers, Tunis, Tremecen, and other places consented that their native governors should be the vassals of Ferdinand. Another expedition reduced Tripoli. In 1511 he himself was preparing to embark with a formidable armament, to pursue his conquests in that country—conquests, however, which his own experience proved to be fleeting—when he was pressed by Pope Julian to aid the church against the schismatics under the protection of the king of France and the emperor. As he was even more proud of his title of Catholic king than desirous of glory, he dispatched an armed force to aid the chief of the church.

But this war led to one memorable result, and one not very glorious to Ferdinand. Wishing to carry hostilities into France, he demanded from Jean d’Albret, king of Navarre, permission to march his troops through that country. The Navarrese refused, but at the same time professed his determination in no way to aid the French monarch, and to remain perfectly neutral. Scarcely, however, had he given this answer than he entered into an alliance, offensive and defensive, with the French king. Resolving to attain his end by force and to punish the duplicity of the Navarrese, Ferdinand assembled his forces at Vittoria, invaded Navarre, and in a short time obtained possession of the whole kingdom, the royal 1509-1516 family taking refuge in France. This new conquest he annexed to his kingdom of Aragon, and successfully defended it against the invasion of the French.

Ferdinand was beyond doubt one of the ablest and best princes that ever swayed the scepter of Spain. His actions will best bespeak his character. He is justly regarded as the founder of the Spanish monarchy; and though, during the latter years of his life, he wished to undo his own great work, let those bear the blame who thwarted his most salutary designs, who disputed his legitimate authority, and, with the basest ingratitude, returned rebellion and insult for the most signal benefits—for a life worn out in their service. His chief faults were an immeasurable ambition and a policy rather tortuous than direct. His memory, however, is held in great reverence in Spain. Notwithstanding his faults, and the hostility of writers who array his character and actions in the garb, not of history, but of prejudice and passion, posterity must regard him as the greatest prince of his age.

Chapter X

KINGDOM OF NAVARRE. CIRCA 885-1512

No historical subject is wrapped in greater obscurity than the origin and early history of the kingdom of Navarre. Whether during a great portion of the eighth and ninth centuries the country was independent or tributary, and if dependent, whether it obeyed the Franks, the Asturians, or the Arabs, or successively all three, are speculations which have long exercised the pens of the Peninsular writers. The natives, as might naturally be expected, stoutly contend for their ancient freedom, and do not scruple to assert that the foundation of their kingdom is coeval with that of the Asturian state by Pelayo. On the other hand, the Castilians maintain that until the latter half of the ninth century this mountainous region was subject, with a slight interruption, to the successors of that prince; while the French, and such as follow their authorities, affirm that a full century after the time of Charlemagne, Navarre, as well as Catalonia, owed the paramount sway of the Carlovingian sovereigns.

According to the first of these three hypotheses, the first king of Navarre was Garcia Ximenes, the contemporary of Pelayo. The occasion of his election is stated to have been singular. A number of the natives, among whom were two hundred persons of distinction, attended the last obsequies of a holy hermit. The degraded state of the surrounding country,—degraded through its subjection to the insolent misbelievers,—the indignities they were made continually to endure, the tale of new wrongs, and the apprehension of greater, roused their patriotism, and caused them to elect on the very spot a ruler who should lead them against the abhorred strangers. The choice fell on Garcia Ximenes, one of the most valiant as well as powerful of the native lords. His domains were, at first, very circumscribed, comprising only the mountains of Sobrarve and a few neighboring places; but by his valor he recovered a considerable territory from the Arabs. He was succeeded, continue the advocates of this hypothesis—for it is no better,—by 905 several sovereigns, who swayed the scepter with the usual alternations of glory and failure, until 905, when the darkness involving the history of this kingdom begins to be dissipated.

That the Arabs ever possessed Navarre is at least doubtful. A passage in Sebastian’s “Chronicles” has been adduced to show that at all times Alava, Biscay, etc., were possessed by the native inhabitants: Rodrigo of Toledo has a much stronger one to the same purport.

From one passage of Sebastian in which he speaks of the expedition of Alfonso III. to punish the revolted Alavese, we may infer, not only that no monarchy was yet established, but that the country, or at least a portion of it, was subject to the Asturian kings.

Admitting, then, that Garcia the father filled the royal dignity, we must also admit that he is the first king of Navarre. There is nothing in authors nearest to the period that affords us the slightest ground for assuming that the dignity existed there prior to the latter half of the ninth century. They, indeed, who follow the Archbishop Rodrigo, and the vast store of monastic charters—the only authorities for the pretended antiquity of this monarchy—may easily find room for six or eight successive kings before the time of Garcia. But these kings are deservedly rejected by the best historians of Spain. Thus the father of this royal line, the count of Bigorre, had two names, Sancho Iñigo. Agreeably to the Spanish system of patronymic derivation, Garcia his son was sometimes called Garcia Sanchez, at others Garcia Iñiguez: by the advocates of Navarrese antiquities this double name is easily made to represent two distinct sovereigns. In many other cases, subsequent to the reign of Garcia, we find the same confusion. Thus, anyone who minutely enters into an examination of the subject will soon be convinced that Garcia el Tembloso and Sancho el Mayor are identical with Garcia Sanchez and Sancho Garces, though by most historians these two kings have been invariably multiplied into four. A line of rulers so numerous, their names so carefully recorded, were reasonably admitted as demonstration of a very respectable antiquity.

As, then, there appears no foundation for the ancient independence of Navarre, on what power was she dependent—on the Asturians or the Franks?

The chroniclers who lived nearest to this period, the monk of 778 Albelda and Bishop Sampiro, are so meager in their accounts that they afford us no information on the subject beyond incidental obscure hints, which may be forced to mean anything or nothing, according to the predilection of the citer. One, however, who has no predilections to gratify may observe that from the general tendency of the hints, an impression,—he would not be justified in using a stronger term,—rests on his mind that in the reign of Alfonso el Casto, at least, perhaps in that of Alfonso I., the country was dependent on the Asturias. If, as Sebastian of Salamanca intimates (and what better authority can be found?), the Arabs had not settled in Navarre prior to his days, we may infer that it was previously governed by local counts, vassals of Pelayo himself, or at least of his immediate successors. But leaving these speculations, it seems undoubted that in just dread of the Mohammedan domination the inhabitants of these regions, as well as those of Catalonia, applied for aid to the renowned emperor of the Franks, and that he, in consequence, in 778, poured his legions into Navarre and seized Pamplona. There is, however, reason enough for inferring that this supremacy generally rested with the Carlovingian dynasty. In 806, on the occasion of a revolt,—whether through the arts of Alfonso el Casto or through a desire for independence, is doubtful,—Pepin passed the Pyrenees with a considerable force, received the submission of the people, and divided the country into new governments, both for its better defense against foreign aggression and as the means of more effectually quelling domestic commotions. Thus things remained until the time of Alfonso III., who, for the reasons stated on a former occasion, endeavored to secure peace both with Navarre and France by marrying a princess related to both Sancho Iñigo, count of Bigorre, and to the Frank sovereign, and by consenting that the province should be held as an immovable fief by that count. This Sancho Iñigo, besides his lordship of Bigorre, for which he was the vassal of the French king, had domains in Navarre, and is believed, on apparently good foundation, to have been of Spanish descent. He is said, however, not to have been the first count of Navarre; that his brother Aznar held the fief before him, nominally dependent on King Pepin, but successfully laying the foundation of Navarrese independence.^[19] But 883-907 whichever of the princes was acknowledged for the time the lord paramount of the province, there can be little doubt that both governor and people were averse to the sway of either; both had long aspired to independence, and that independence was at hand. The son of this Sancho Iñigo was Garcia, father of Sancho Garces, and the first king of Navarre; the first, at least, whom for reasons before given, historic criticism can admit.

The precise period when Garcia I. (Sanchez Iñiguez) began to reign is impossible to be determined. Considering, however, the deep silence of the contemporary monk of Albelda, who concludes his history in 883, as to the foundation of the monarchy, that event must be referred to a period subsequent. All that we know by inference is, that in 891, or in the following year, he was killed in battle with the Arabs, who invaded his dominions, and that he left an infant, Sancho.

Sancho I. (Garces Abaraca) was fortunate enough to extend the dominions left him by his two predecessors, and to wield their scepter with greater glory than either. In 907 he led an army into Gascony—for what purpose does not clearly appear—and during his absence the city of Pamplona was invested by the Arabs. The inhabitants, being unprepared for a siege, were in the deepest consternation: they dispatched messengers to acquaint their king with their critical situation. Sancho was naturally solicitous to return and save his capital; but he had scarcely issued orders to that effect, when a heavy fall of snow blocked up the passes of the Pyrenees, and in the estimation of all men rendered that return impossible. Yet he was undismayed; he resolved to attempt the passage, though his followers loudly exclaimed that thus “to combat nature” was the very height of rashness. At length, after a rapid nocturnal march, they appeared at daybreak before the city, which still held out, but the surrender of which was hourly expected by the assailants. The joy of the besieged on the arrival of their deliverers was boundless. While the aged, the women, and children watched the furious attack of their king on the surprised ranks of the misbelievers, most of whom were half dead by the severity of the weather, all capable of bearing arms left the place to assist their heroic countrymen. The carnage of the Arabs was frightful: such as escaped into the mountains were known by their footsteps, were pursued, and put to death; few of the vanquished survived that day.

During several succeeding years Sancho nobly followed up this splendid success. He reduced some important fortresses on914-925 both banks of the Ebro, and recovered Rioja: in 914 he conquered the country from Tudela to Najera: the following year he took Tarragona and Agreda, and seized on the mountainous district surrounding the sources of the Duero. Many of his conquests he fortified against the threatened irruptions of the Arabs: among these was Pamplona, the works of which he carefully strengthened. His prudent foresight was justified by the sequel. In 920, whether through impaired health or devotion or both, he retired to the monastery of San Salvador de Leyre, leaving to his son, whom he had previously placed over Rioja, the government of his states. The following year Abderahman III., at the instance of the Mohammedans of Saragossa, poured a formidable army into Rioja, and recovered several of the fortified places. The infante Sancho consequently prepared for defense, and obtained from Ordoño II., king of Leon, a powerful aid, which that king headed in person. The hostile armies met at Val-de-Junquera, near Salinas de Oro. The result was fatal to the Christians, who were signally routed, two of their bishops and many princes remaining in the power of the misbelievers. Ordoño returned to Leon,—doubtless to defend his own dominions,—while the infante threw himself within the walls of Pamplona. But in the mountain defiles one division of the Mohammedan army was surprised by the troops of the king, and Sancho also marched against the other division that had passed the Pyrenees by another route, and completely cut it to pieces. No Mohammedan remained in the whole kingdom north of the Ebro, for the fortresses which Abderahman’s general had reduced were recovered with facility. The following year, while Sancho was suffering under severe illness, his son recovered Rioja. In the reduction of the two strongest fortresses in that province, Najera and Viguera, the infante was aided by his cousin of Leon, and the good understanding between the two crowns was increased by the marriage of Ordoño with Doña Sancha, princess of Navarre.

Don Sancho did not long survive this last success of his arms. He reigned, say the chroniclers, nearly twenty years, so that his death must have taken place about 925. He was one of the most valiant princes of his age, and his numerous religious foundations prove him to have been one of the most devout. The salutary 925-1026 severity with which he administered justice, and the vigor with which he extirpated the robbers who infested his dominions, were no less useful to his people than his warlike deeds.

Garcia II. (Sanchez) surnamed El Tembloso, or the Trembler, from the involuntary dread which he experienced at the commencement of any battle,—a dread, however, which speedily yielded to his latent courage,—ascended the throne in 925. Of this prince little is known, and that little has often been confounded with the actions of his successors. In 951, on occasion of the dispute between Ordoño III. of Leon and Sancho, brother of that prince, he, with his brother-in-law, Fernan Gonsalez, count of Castile, espoused the cause of the rebel; but legitimacy triumphed, and Sancho sought refuge for a time in Navarre. In 956 he again received Sancho, who had been expelled from the court of Leon, and afterwards entered into an alliance with Abderahman to restore the exile to the throne. On this occasion he marched an army into Castile to overawe the movements of the rebellious Fernan Gonsalez, whom he defeated and took prisoner, but whom he afterwards released in consideration of the affinity between them. Garcia died in 970.

Sancho II., surnamed El Mayor, according to Rodrigo was but five years old when he ascended the throne. If this be true, he was probably the grandson, not the son, of the deceased king; and as the realm would necessarily be governed by a regent, that regent may have been ranked among the lawful sovereigns of the country. However this be, it is certain, that nothing can exceed the obscurity which covers the reigns of this period.

Sancho el Mayor was the most powerful prince of his age and country. Besides Navarre and Sobrarve, he held the lordship of Aragon (then however confined within narrow limits, as Saragossa and most of the province were subject to the Mohammedans,) and in 1026 in right of his wife, Muna Elvira, princess of Castile, he became king of that country. The marriage of his son Ferdinand to the heiress of Leon gave him uncontrolled influence in the affairs of that kingdom,—an influence which he was not slow to vindicate even by force of arms. By his conquests, too, he considerably extended his dominions, especially on the Pyrenean frontier: among these was the lordship of Ribagorza, which had generally been dependent on the French crown, and to which indeed he had some claim in virtue of his consanguinity with a house that 1053-1054 had long given governors to that province. He was thus, at the period of his death in 1035, virtually master of all Christian Spain except Catalonia.

By most historians of the Peninsula Sancho has been blamed for not laying the foundation of one Christian monarchy, in other words, for dividing his dominions among his four sons. In leaving Navarre and Biscay to his eldest son Garcia, Castile to Fernando, Ribagorza to Gonsalo, and Aragon to Ramiro, he certainly committed an act of great impolicy; but it may be doubted, whether, if even he had left them united under the scepter of the eldest, the integrity of the whole would have been long preserved.

Garcia III., at the time of his father’s death, was absent on a pilgrimage to Rome. Ramiro of Aragon, who was discontented with the boundaries assigned him, thought this a favorable opportunity for removing them to a greater distance: he invaded Navarre, the greater part of which he occupied with facility. Before the fortress of Tafalla, however, which he invested, he was detained until the arrival of the royal pilgrim, who not only expelled him from his conquests, but pursued him into his own dominions. But Garcia was either averse to profit by the advantage thus acquired or he preferred lending his immediate aid to his brother Ferdinand of Castile, whose dominions were then invaded by Bermudo of Leon. The triumph of Ferdinand, who by the death of the Leonnese king inherited that crown, has been related.

But this service either made no impression on the heart of Ferdinand or Garcia’s own ambition led to the hostilities which followed. The maneuvers which each adopted to gain possession of the other,—maneuvers disgraceful alike to their fraternal and knightly characters,—and the death of Garcia, in 1054, at the battle of Atapuerca, are to be found in another place. This latter prince left few to regret his loss, except the monks, whose monasteries he had enriched. He made some conquests from the Mohammedans, among which was Calahorra (1045), but he lost Rioja, which was annexed to Castile, and which, though sometimes reoccupied in the subsequent reigns by the Navarrese princes, was always recovered by their powerful neighbors. The Ebro again became the boundary of the two kingdoms.

Sancho III., eldest son of Garcia, was quietly permitted by the victor Ferdinand to be proclaimed in the camp. Nor, whatever 1076-1134 may be stated by the writers of Navarre and Aragon, from the monk of San Juan de la Peña downwards, was he ever disturbed in his possessions by the king of Leon and Castile. As little proof is there, that Sancho, the successor of Ferdinand, molested his cousin of Navarre. It is allowed that Alfonso, the successor of Sancho, afterwards the famous conqueror of Toledo, was too much occupied in fighting the Moors to dream of incommoding his Christian relatives. Hence the reign of Sancho III. appears to have been passed in peace. But if he had no enemies from without, unfortunately he had them within his own kingdom, and in his own family. In 1076 his brother Don Ramon and his sister Doña Ermesinda conspired against his life. While eagerly watching a stag hunt they stabbed him in the back and precipitated him from a high crag. His body was dashed to pieces by the fall. This tragical deed the people at length rose to avenge, but the assassins had escaped to the court of the Moorish king of Saragossa.

Ramon derived no advantage from this deed of blood: the kingdom refused to be ruled by a fratricide, whom it indignantly expelled. The choice of a successor promised to be attended with some difficulty. While the inhabitants of Biscay and Rioja, at the instance of Prince Ramiro, another brother of Sancho, declared for Alfonso of Leon and Castile, those of Navarre proper were generally in favor of Sancho Ramirez, second king of Aragon. The former led an army into Rioja, was proclaimed at Calahorra and Najera, and from that moment the sovereignty of the country between those important places remained in the crown of Castile. Sancho was no less active: with a considerable force he entered Navarre and was proclaimed at Pamplona.

As the three next sovereigns of Navarre, Sancho IV., who reigned from 1076 to 1094, Pedro I., from 1094 to 1105, and Alfonso I., from 1105 to 1134, were all kings of Aragon, their actions must be related in the history of that country. The last named prince, dying without issue, made a singular will, by which he bequeathed his dominions to the knights of St. John and of the Temple, and passed a heavy denunciation on any one of his barons who should seek to set aside his last dispositions. But no sooner was he laid at rest than his menace was disregarded, and as the Navarrese and Aragonese would not agree in the choice of a common sovereign, the former raised Garcia Ramirez, a scion of 1134-1150 their royal house, to the vacant dignity, while the latter threw their eyes on Ramiro, brother of Alfonso, who, though a monk, was forced from the cloister to the palace.

Garcia IV. no sooner ascended the throne than he was disturbed by the ambition or policy of Ramiro, who aspired to the reunion of the two kingdoms. The animosity of the two princes was for a moment prevented from openly breaking out by the approach,—whether friendly or hostile has been much disputed,—of Alfonso VII. of Leon and Castile, surnamed the Emperor, who made both tremble for their respective dignities. On the departure of the emperor, who had received the homage both of Garcia and Ramiro, they resumed their hostile attitude, but their respective subjects forced them to be reconciled. Each was to remain master of his present possessions, but Garcia was to consider himself a feudatory of the Aragonese.

Scarcely was this reconciliation effected when Garcia leagued himself with Alfonso, prince of Portugal, against the emperor, whose ambition began to fill both with apprehension: the former aimed at the recovery of Rioja, the latter at an independent sovereignty. While the Portuguese prince invaded Galicia, where his generals obtained some partial success, Alfonso made an irruption into Navarre, which he laid waste and did not leave until Garcia acknowledged his supremacy and sued for peace. In 1140, however, the latter again entered into an alliance with the Portuguese king, and for the same reason—jealousy of the emperor’s power. Again was Navarre invaded; while the king, confiding in the fortifications of Pamplona, carried the war into the territories of Aragon, against Raymundo, count of Barcelona, the ally of Alfonso, and, in virtue of a marriage with the daughter of Ramiro, actual sovereign of Aragon. Though he triumphed over Raymundo, from whom he took abundance of spoil, that spoil was scarcely divided among his followers, when the active emperor reached the field, and the Navarrese fled without striking a blow, or carrying away any portion of their plunder. Again, through the instrumentality of the prelates and nobles was peace made between them,—the emperor being anxious to fall on the Mohammedans,—and confirmed by the marriage of Garcia with a natural daughter of Alfonso. But Garcia and Raymundo were never on good terms, and it required all the influence of their common friend to prevent them from inflicting hostilities on each other. By engaging them 1150-1191 in the same cause,—war with the Moors,—he turned their warlike inclinations to the common good of Christendom.

Garcia died in 1150—some authors say through the fall of his horse. We only know with certainty that his death was sudden. Sancho V., son of the deceased king, was no less subject than his father to the hostilities of the prince of Aragon, and no less eager to return them. But the emperor, though war was frequently and loudly proclaimed by both parties, and though some indecisive irruptions into the Navarrese territory followed, continued to exert his beneficial influence for the restoration, if not of harmony, at least of outward tranquillity. Soon after his death, which happened in 1157, Don Raymundo, as usual, commenced hostilities, but, as usual also, without result, since both kings, terrified at the inroads of the Almohades, began to perceive the necessity of peace, unless both of them were to fall a sacrifice to these formidable Africans. But though Sancho had married a daughter of Alfonso, he was not always disposed to remain on good terms with that emperor’s successor in Castile, who bore the same name as himself. Towards the end of that monarch’s short reign he made an irruption into Rioja, but meeting with a vigorous repulse, he retired to his own dominions. During the minority of Alfonso IX., knowing how much Castile was weakened by civil dissensions, he again penetrated into that province, where his arms, meeting with no serious opposition, were successful: the following year it was recovered. The two following years witnessed the same obscure and indecisive operations. In 1176 the kings of Castile and Navarre agreed to refer their differences, which concerned the restitution of some Castilian fortresses seized during the minority of the former prince, to Henry Plantagenet, king of England. The English monarch could entertain no unfavorable sentiments towards the father-in-law of his son; yet he condemned him to surrender five fortresses, in consideration, however, of a considerable sum of money, and of two or three small fortified places, or rather castles, in return, which rightly belonged to Sancho. It does not appear that the award was put into force, though in 1179 the two kings agreed to a peace on conditions not much unlike those proposed by Henry.

In 1191 Sancho conferred his daughter, the Princess Berengaria, on Richard I. of England, who had succeeded his father. As the Plantagenet had already departed for the Holy Land, the 1191-1234 infanta was dispatched to the Isle of Cyprus, where she was received by her affianced husband, and where the marriage ceremony was performed. By favor of this marriage, as well as by a preceding one which had been contracted between another princess of Navarre with an elder brother of Richard, Sancho hoped to have a powerful and near ally,—the English possessions in France then extended almost to the Pyrenees,—to aid him whenever he should be in danger of becoming a prey to his neighbors. This king did not long survive the marriage of his daughter. He died in 1194.

Sancho VI. had but just seized the reins of government when he entered into an alliance with the kings of Castile and Leon against the Moors, who were then ravaging Andalusia. The impetuosity of the Castilian, which impelled him to risk an action before the arrival of his allies, and his consequent defeat near Alarcos, have been already related. His ill-humor with his allies, who had advanced to Toledo, led to some hostilities between the three, even though the conquering Aben Yussef was reducing several of the Christian fortresses. After the marriage, however, of Doña Berengaria, infanta of Castile, with the king of Leon, those two princes were at liberty to unite in defense of their country and religion. But Sancho, for a time, stood aloof from the confederacy: in dread of Yacub ben Yussuf’s power, or rather through jealousy of his two neighbors, he entered into an alliance with the misbeliever, and even sought an interview with their emperor. If he was wrong-headed and obstinate in his errors or even crimes, he was a valiant soldier; and his conduct at the great battle of the Navas de Tolosa partly redeems him from the deep stain he had contracted by his humiliating negotiations with Yacub. But he was deservedly punished, for during his absence in Africa Biscay, Alava, and Guipuzcoa, which Sancho el Mayor had joined to the crown of Navarre, were reduced by Alfonso of Leon.

With Don Sancho, who died in 1234, ended the male line of the house of Sancho Iñigo, founder of the sovereignty. The accidental death of his son, which several years preceded his own, caused him to nominate as his successor King Jayme I. of Aragon. From his valor he was surnamed the Brave, but this appears to be the only title he possessed to the respect of posterity.

On the death of Sancho the Navarrese were perplexed about the choice of a successor. On the one hand, they had done homage 1234-1239 to Jayme of Aragon, as their future king; on the other, they were unwilling to sacrifice their national existence by a union with the neighboring kingdom. In this emergency they elected Thibault,^[20] count of Champagne, son of the infanta Sancha, sister of the late king.

Of Thibault I. we know little beyond his expedition to Palestine. In the second year of his reign he assumed the cross, resolved, like so many other princes of his age, to assist in recovering the holy sepulcher from infidel hands. Accordingly, in 1238, he passed over into France to join the dukes of Bretagne and Burgundy, the counts of Bar, Vendôme, Montfort, and other crusaders. As the French king could not depart with them, they proceeded to the choice of a generalissimo: it fell on Thibault, both on account of his superior dignity to the rest and of his martial character. The following year the French princes hastened into Provence, for the purpose of embarkation; but as there was not a sufficient number of vessels to convey so great an armament, it was agreed that while a portion only proceeded by sea the rest should travel by land, by way of Hungary, Thrace, and Asia Minor. The disasters which befell the latter, of whom two-thirds perished through fatigue, hunger, pestilence, or intemperance, are well known. Fortunately for the Navarrese king, he was one of those who embarked at Marseilles and safely reached Syria. But he had little reason to congratulate himself on the success of the expedition: he found nothing but jealousy or open opposition among the crusaders. Thibault assembled the chiefs of his party, and it was determined that siege should be laid to Gaza. But the rashness or avarice of the duke of Bretagne proved fatal to their views, for the caliph of Egypt, who had spies everywhere, being acquainted with the design, silently threw a strong body of troops into the fortress or placed them on the neighboring heights. Unsuspicious of the snare laid for them, the holy warriors marched all night and at break of day arrived before Gaza. Their consternation at finding the eminences occupied was great; but, though fatigued with their arduous march, and so much inferior in number, they prepared to resist the meditated attack of the misbelievers. 1240-1270 They fought under every disadvantage: if they prepared to fall back, the Arabian cavalry was instantly in their rear; if they made a vigorous stand, it was immediately beyond their pursuit. In the meantime the arrowy showers from the heights did not fall in vain, and the Christians began to faint as much through want of food and water as through fatigue. Nor did night bring a relief to their sufferings: they were constrained to remain under arms, to repel the never-ceasing attacks of their sleepless foes. On the following day their prospect of escape was totally precluded by the arrival of the Egyptian caliph in person, at the head of a considerable army. They were surrounded; most of them were cut to pieces; the rest compelled to surrender. The disastrous news soon reached the camp of Thibault and the other crusaders who were lying before Ascalon: it produced unmixed dismay, yet the dissensions of the Christians were too inveterate to rouse them to the necessity of union. The French princes resolved to return, without considering that the disasters of the crusade were mostly owing to themselves, that the most pressing considerations of honor, religion, and even humanity compelled them to remain; in opposition to the entreaties and remonstrances of their confederates they embarked—Thibault among the rest—at the port of St. Jean d’Acre, and, followed by the curses of their abandoned comrades, safely reached France. In 1253 Thibault died, leaving the guardianship of his youthful son and kingdom to his friend Don Jayme of Aragon.

Thibault II. found a generous and powerful protector in the Aragonese king, who, whenever his presence was required by the interests of his French possessions, preserved his kingdom in peace. In 1258, while at Paris in attendance on his feudal lord, he married the Princess Isabelle, daughter of St. Louis. This connection with the house of France was unfortunate: he had no issue by it; and it had the mischievous effect of making him assume the cross, in conjunction with his father-in-law. Having procured a wife for his brother Henri, in whom he placed his hopes of succession, in 1270 he embarked with St. Louis. A tempest, or rather a succession of tempests, forced the Christian fleet to the African coast. The crusaders invested Tunis, which they were unable to reduce: the plague broke out in their camp and carried off St. Louis, with many chiefs and a multitude of knights. The siege was ignominiously raised: Thibault, accompanied by Philip, son and heir 1270-1278 of St. Louis, and by Charles, king of Sicily, sailed to that island and landed at Trapani, where fatigue and anxiety brought the Navarrese king to the grave.

Henri, the brother of Thibault II., did not long enjoy the scepter. By the Princess Blanche, daughter of Robert, count d’Artois, and niece of St. Louis, he had a son and daughter. The former, however, while but an infant, one day made a sudden spring from the arms of the nurse, and falling from a high window, was dashed to pieces on the ground below: the terrified nurse threw herself after the infant. The afflicted father now caused the Princess Jeanne to be recognized as his successor.

Jeanne was unanimously proclaimed sovereign of the kingdom, and the administration during her minority confided to the queen-mother Blanche and a Navarrese noble, Don Pedro Sanchez de Monteagudo. The power thus intrusted to this subject gave umbrage to the rest of the Navarrese nobility, and not merely intrigues, but open force, was resorted to for the purpose of procuring his deposition. Besides, Ferdinand, infante of Castile, had for some time looked upon the princess as a suitable match for his eldest son. Unfortunately for him, Don Pedro of Aragon, whom neither party had solicited to interfere, entertained the same views in favor of his son. Under the pretense of supporting their respective partisans, but in reality to gain possession of the heiress, each of the princes prepared to arm. The affrighted Blanche, who destined both her daughter and the crown to a French noble, precipitately fled from Pamplona with her important charge, and, on arriving at Paris placed herself, the young princess, and the Navarrese kingdom under the protection of Philip III. Her flight only added fuel to domestic strife. Deprived of their external supports, the two parties now struggled for the regency. Hearing of this melancholy news, Blanche, at the instance of the French king, sent Eustace de Beaumarchais, seneschal of Toulouse,—an officer of considerable valor,—to administer the affairs of the kingdom.

The salutary severity of the new governor soon quelled commotion, but did not reconcile the people to a foreign yoke. Nor was the well-known purpose of Blanche of uniting her daughter to the heir of Philip at all agreeable to the majority of the Navarrese. Blanche did not much trouble herself about the opinions of the Navarrese, but finally arranged the conditions of the marriage with 1278-1328 the French king. The party, however, which was opposed to the step sought to be revenged on the governor. In 1278 a popular insurrection forced him to seek shelter in the castle of Pamplona. He lost no time in acquainting Philip with his situation, while the chief of the rebels, Don Garcia de Almoravides, sought the aid of Alfonso el Sabio, and even occupied the passes into Navarre to oppose the arrival of the French troops. Philip immediately directed the count d’Artois, father of Blanche, to march with the troops which lay at Toulouse and Carcassonne to the succor of Beaumarchais. On reaching the foot of the Pyrenees the count found the passes occupied, but he effected a passage through another opening into Aragon, and marched on Pamplona, which he invested. On the other side advanced Alfonso of Castile, not less eager to dispute with France the superiority over the kingdom. When the latter found, however, that the count’s army had greatly the advantage in numbers (it was 20,000 strong), he quietly returned, leaving the Frenchmen in undisturbed possession of the field. Though Don Garcia had, for a moment, made a vigorous defense, he was no sooner acquainted with the retreat of his protector than he secretly fled from the city, accompanied by several barons of his party. The citizens now consented to capitulate; but, while the conditions were arranging, a body of French troops, in opposition, we are told, to the commands of their officers, scaled the walls, and inflicted a terrific carnage on the defenseless people, sparing neither sex, the old nor the young, and using the women with a brutality worse than death. The terror caused by this massacre effectually secured the submission of the kingdom; nor was there any disturbance when, in 1284, the queen gave her hand to her affianced husband,—in other words, when Navarre became a province of France.

During the next four reigns Navarre has no history distinct from that of France, by whose sovereigns it was governed. On the death of Jeanne, in 1305, the scepter devolved on her son, Louis Hutin, who, in 1314, succeeded to the French crown. In 1316 he died, and Philip reigned until 1322. His death made way for Charles I., the youngest son of Jeanne, on whose demise, in 1328, Navarre again obtained its separate sovereign. Of these French princes, Louis was the only one who ever visited the Peninsula, and that visit was before his elevation to the throne of France. The Navarrese nobles, at the commencement of each 1328-1343 reign, were compelled to visit Paris to do homage to their sovereign, though their doing so was a direct violation of the constitution. To Charles, the last of these princes, the states refused to swear allegiance, unless, in conformity with ancient custom, he submitted to be crowned in Pamplona; yet their refusal did not prevent his governing through his viceroy. Charles had, indeed, no lawful claim to the crown, which belonged to Jeanne, daughter of Louis Hutin and grand-daughter of the queen of that name. If the Salic law excluded her from the throne of France, her right to that of Navarre was indisputable, and on the death of Charles, in 1328, the states assembled at Pamplona immediately recognized it. It was first opposed by Philip de Valois, the new king of France, who was naturally loath to forego his sovereignty over the country, but some concessions extorted from the count of Evreux, husband of Jeanne, obtained his consent to her proclamation.

Jeanne II., with her husband Philip (who had the title of king), arrived at Pamplona in 1329, and both were immediately crowned. The spectacle of a coronation was new to the Navarrese, who testified unbounded joy at the prospect of having their sovereigns again among them. But the residence of the queen and her husband in the kingdom appears to have been but temporary, or, at most, occasional, since in the obscure events of this time we frequently meet with the names of the viceroys who treated with the courts of Aragon and Castile. Unfortunately this natural joy was accompanied, or but immediately preceded, by the indiscriminate massacre of the Jews. Wherever that extraordinary people abode they were sure to attract the hostility of their Christian neighbors—partly, no doubt, by their usurious and dishonest dealings, but chiefly, perhaps, by their peculiar tenets and their reputed exposure to the wrath of Heaven. The first year of the reign was peaceful: but about 1334 a desultory warfare—the cause and progress of which we should vainly attempt to discover—desolated the frontiers of Navarre and Castile. In 1336, however, peace was restored, and all animosity was so far forgotten that, in 1343, Philip marched with a considerable reinforcement to aid Alfonso XI. of Castile, who was then investing Algeziras. By that monarch he was received with extraordinary honors, but the operations of the siege, though the place was pressed with vigor, were fatiguing, and in a short time he was seized with an illness serious enough 1349-1356 to alarm his friends. Having retired to Xeres de la Frontera, his disorder grew worse, and he breathed his last: his corpse was conveyed by his afflicted troops to Pamplona.

Jeanne died at Paris in 1349, leaving a numerous issue by her husband Philip. Of her younger sons (besides Charles) one was created count de Longueville, the other count de Beaumont, by the French king: her eldest succeeded her in the throne of Navarre.

Charles II., surnamed le Mauvais, or the Bad, who was in France on his mother’s death, returned to his kingdom the following year, to be crowned at Pamplona. On this occasion he exhibited the natural sternness of his disposition by the severity with which he punished the leaders of a partial insurrection, who, under the usual pretext of procuring a guarantee for the national liberties, aimed at anarchy and plunder. His next care was to confirm the good understanding subsisting between Navarre and Castile, an object no less desired by Pedro the Cruel: for this purpose both monarchs had an interview at Burgos in 1351.

In 1352 Charles passed into France, to promote his interests with his feudal lord, the monarch of that country. The following year he received the hand of Jeanne, eldest daughter of King Jean. Emboldened by this alliance, he solicited the restitution of the lordships of Champagne and Brie, which had been compulsorily surrendered by the count of Evreux, his father, and which he justly considered as his rightful inheritance. In his pretensions he was opposed by the constable of France, whom he caused to be assassinated. As a defense against the certain vengeance of the French king, he leagued himself with Edward III. of England and other enemies of France. He did more; though by his lordship of Evreux and other possessions he was among the chief vassals of Jean, he loudly exclaimed against the war (and still more against the forced contributions to support it) which that monarch had declared against England. As he was too powerful to be openly punished, he was seized, under the mask of hospitality, at the table of the dauphin; his companions were put to death and himself consigned to close confinement in a fortress. After the celebrated defeat of the French king at Poitiers, and the troubles encountered by the new regent, the Navarrese nobles, especially Philip, brother of the king, entertained the design of releasing Charles from captivity. Having disguised themselves as coal-men, 1361-1382 they went to the castle of Arleux, in Cambresis, where the royal prisoner then lay, scaled the walls by night and bore him away,—no doubt with the connivance of the governor,—in great triumph to Amiens.

Charles returned into Navarre in 1361. He was soon invited by his old ally Pedro to an interview at Soria. As before, he was treated with marked distinction by the Castilian, who, however, requested him, in virtue of the alliance which they had before contracted, and which they now renewed, to aid in the war that Pedro was about to wage with the king of Aragon. He had no wish to commence hostilities against that prince, but being in the Castilian’s power, and with the fate of the murdered Moorish king before him, he promised his aid; besides, he had reason to expect that the preservation or amplification of his domains in France might bring him into collision with the monarch of that country, and that in the support of his pretensions he might rely on the co-operation of Pedro. In his relations with his old ally, Charles, however, played the part of a deceiver, and at the same time became the victim of his own duplicity. In short, all his actions were characterized by the basest perfidy or cupidity. Yet it may be doubted whether he was not, on the whole, the best Peninsular sovereign then living, at least among the Christians: in neither of these qualities was he more infamous than the two Pedros of Portugal and Aragon; and he was certainly both less dishonorable and less cruel than the brother kings of Castile.

But the ambition of Charles was too restless and too unscrupulous to allow him to remain long at peace. In 1377 he is said to have made a secret agreement with the English Edward III., in virtue of which he was to surrender his Norman domains for others which were situated in Gascony, and consequently bordering on Navarre. Enrique of Castile was under too great obligations to the French monarch not to take that monarch’s part against his neighbor, though his daughter had married that neighbor’s son, and though the son-in-law, at this moment, was a prisoner in Paris. The war turned to the advantage of the Castilian, so that Charles was glad to sue for peace, which he easily obtained on the condition of his abandoning his alliance with England. Juan I., the successor of Enrique, not only restored the places which his generals had reduced, but in 1382 procured from his ally the French king the release of Prince Charles, his brother-in-law. The 1387-1425 prince returned the obligation by aiding the Castilian monarch in the wars with Portugal and the English.

Charles died in 1387. His character, which has been unnecessarily darkened by the French historians, must be sufficiently known from his actions.

Of Charles III., surnamed the Noble, we know little. Soon after his accession his Queen Leonora, a princess of Castile, under the pretense of seeking benefit by a change of air, obtained his permission to visit her nephew’s court, and, when there, long refused to return to him. The reason she alleged for the refusal was, if true, a sufficient one: she attributed her illness to poison, administered to her by a Jewish leech. By the protection which Enrique III. extended to her during several successive years, and by the guarantees he required from the husband for his aunt’s future security in case of her return, we may infer that he at least believed her statement; nor is it easy to conceive that she could forsake her husband’s court and kingdom without some powerful cause. Her intriguing character, however, in times when intrigue and violence alone were dominant in Castile, at length so irritated her nephew that, with the advice of his council, he determined on her return to Pamplona, on the condition of a solemn oath from Charles, not only that her life and liberty should be secure, but that she should be treated with the affection due to her conjugal character.

Charles, who could not behold without regret the loss of his hereditary domains in France, in 1403 went to the court of that kingdom to solicit their restitution. With great difficulty he obtained the territory of Nemours, with the title of duke, an annual pension of 12,000 francs, and a sum of 200,000 crowns, as an indemnity for the loss of his revenues during so many years.

The long reign of Charles was pacific, a blessing owing as much to his disposition as to his alliances with the courts of Aragon and Castile. In 1423 he caused his grandson of the same name, son of his daughter Blanche and Juan of Aragon, to be declared his successor after that princess, and to be styled prince of Viana. He died of apoplexy, in September, 1425,—an event which filled his subjects, by whom he was beloved, with lamentation.

Blanche and Juan I., her husband, to whom she abandoned the cares of government, were immediately proclaimed sovereigns of Navarre. The scepter was now, for the first time since the 1425-1452 death of Sancho VI. in 1234, in the hands of a prince who, both by descent and birth, could properly be called a native of the Peninsula.

The long reign of this prince was passed in fomenting the troubles of Castile, of which he continued a vassal, both as grandmaster of a military order and as the owner of spacious domains in that kingdom. Those troubles have been sufficiently explained in a former chapter and need not be repeated here. The part which both he and his brother Alfonso, king of Aragon, took in them, during the feeble reigns of Juan II. and a part of Enrique IV., would afford little entertainment and no instruction to the reader.

In 1441 died Queen Blanche, who, as sole proprietary sovereign of the state, and in accordance with the will of Charles III., left the scepter to her son Charles, the prince of Viana. In her will, however, she recommended the prince not to assume the government without the consent and benediction of his father, who was then in Castile, occupied as usual in fomenting the troubles of that distracted kingdom. Juan had no disposition to lay down a dignity which he had resolved to retain during life. In 1444 he entered into a second marriage with Doña Juana, daughter of the admiral of Castile, one of the chiefs of the disaffected party, or at least of the one hostile to the constable Don Alvaro de Luna. In his baneful activity he was the support of the infante Enrique, so long as that prince was disposed to make war on his father, Juan II.; but whenever the latter returned to his duty, he took part with any nobles who were ready to embarrass the king. No less eagerly did he espouse the quarrels of his brother Alfonso whenever that monarch was at war with Castile.

But the king of Navarre was not always at liberty thus to carry the scourge of war into the Castilian’s territory. In 1452, after the birth of Ferdinand, his brother, the offspring of Juan’s second marriage, Charles openly raised the standard of revolt, and had the satisfaction to see Pamplona, Olite, Tafalla, and Ayllon declare for him. The king was then in Aragon, which he governed during his brother’s absence in the wars of Italy; but he hastily assembled troops and passed into Navarre. Though he found that his son, who had first received a reinforcement of cavalry from Castile—for Juan II. was not slow in supporting a rebellious son against a father who had so often raised his son against him—was 1452-1469 superior in force, the Navarrese king prepared for battle. It ended in the defeat of the prince, who was taken prisoner and consigned to a fortress. There he remained about a year, and there he would have long continued to remain, notwithstanding the remonstrances of the Castilian king, or even of the Aragonese states, had not the Navarrese armed for his deliverance. The king was forced to yield,—he evidently bore no affection to his son,—to confirm Charles in the principality of Viana, and abandon to him half the royal revenues.

A reconciliation thus forcibly effected was not likely to be lasting; in fact, it was agreeable to neither party: the father wished to punish the rebellious son, the son to obtain what he considered his undoubted heritage; hence in 1455 both prepared to renew the contest. The inhabitants of Pamplona were so indignant at this that they elected Charles their king and solicited aid from Enrique (now king of Castile). To end these disgraceful transactions King Alfonso dispatched one of his nobles from Naples with instructions to bring about a reconciliation on any terms. Unfortunately, however, this monarch died without legitimate issue, in 1458, leaving his brother, the king of Navarre, heir of all his dominions in Spain, with the Balearic Isles and Sicily; and no one remained influential enough to finish the friendly work which he had begun.

After the death of Charles and of Blanche the condition of Navarre was deplorable. In 1469 the count de Foix, enraged that the government was not confided to him by his father-in-law, invaded the kingdom, but was speedily expelled by the archbishop of Saragossa, an illegitimate son of Juan. This was not the only mortification of the count: the same year he lost his son Gaston de Foix, who was killed, whether accidentally or by design is doubtful, in a tourney at Bourdeaux. By the Princess Magdeleine the young prince left a son named Phoebus and a daughter named Catherine, who in the sequel swayed the scepter of Navarre. Anarchy and violence now reigned triumphant: the two parties, the Beaumonts and the Agramontese, became more implacable than ever: the chief of one, Don Pedro de Peralta, assassinated in open day the bishop of Pamplona, though that prelate was the intimate friend of the Countess Leonora, then at Tafalla. In short, owing to the character of the king, whose authority, even had he been present, would have been disputed by a considerable party, there 1476-1483 was no government; for though Leonora, from her evident proximity to the throne, was courted by many nobles, her commands were seldom obeyed, while her intrigues were frequently thwarted. The countess herself had soon experience of this truth. At this juncture a sudden death seized her husband in the Pyrenees. Bereft of her chief support, of one whose name had hitherto strengthened her government, Leonora was henceforth more obnoxious than ever to the violence of the Beaumonts and less able to preserve peace between the factions. In 1476 Juan and Ferdinand, who with Isabel had ascended the Castilian throne, met at Tudela to restore order in the realm.

On the death of Juan in 1479 Leonora was proclaimed sovereign of the kingdom. Her empire, the object for which she had incurred such a heavy load of guilt, was exceedingly fleeting: her father died on the 19th of January; on the 10th of the following month she herself was a corpse. She had barely time to make a will, in which she declared Phoebus, the offspring of her son Gaston and the Princess Magdeleine, heir to the throne. In the same act she placed the kingdom under the protection, not of her brother Ferdinand, now king of Aragon and Castile, the nearest relation by blood, but of the French monarch.

François Phoebus, who was very young on his grandmother’s death, was not permitted by the Princess Magdeleine to pass the Pyrenees until 1482. The civil wars of the two rival factions, which now raged with greater fury than ever, justified her maternal caution. François’s first care was to restore harmony between the factions; he made a decree that whoever should ever name the rallying words Beaumont and Agramont should be severely punished. The crafty sovereigns of Castile immediately proposed to him a matrimonial connection; but his mother, alarmed for the interests of France, and resolved that he should marry no one but a Valois, speedily hurried him over the Pyrenees. If she thereby averted the odious match, she could not avert the destiny which hung over the house of Foix: the king suddenly died at Pau, in about two months after his coronation.

Catherine, the sister of Phoebus, was immediately proclaimed sovereign, and as speedily was an embassy sent to the mother Magdeleine by the Castilian sovereigns, who proposed the marriage of the infante Juan with that princess. Magdeleine civilly declined the offer, pretending that she could do nothing in such a business 1484-1512 without the consent of the French king. The subject, however, was speedily turned into a source of contention by the rival factions, the one shouting for a Castilian, the other for a French husband. To remove this pretext of strife, the princess was given the following year by her brother, the king of France, to Jean d’Albret, whose estates bordered on those of Navarre. The information was mortifying to Ferdinand and Isabella, and though they contrived to gain possession of Tudela, one city was a poor compensation for the loss of a kingdom. The queen and king of Navarre, however, were not crowned until 1494.

During the following years, though Ferdinand was busily occupied in his wars with France, he never lost sight of Navarre, nor abandoned the resolution of seizing it whenever a favorable opportunity should occur. Unfortunately for the independence of the country, it was the policy of the Navarrese king to oppose and exasperate his brother of Castile: in almost every dispute of Ferdinand with the kings of France or the emperor he took the part of the former. Nor need this surprise us: the lion of Castile held violent possession of his fortresses, and by every act showed a disposition to spring on the remainder of the prey. It was hoped that the marriage of Ferdinand with a princess of the house of Foix, niece to Louis, would render him more considerate towards the interests of his new kindred; but the hope was vain. Ferdinand now determined to strike the blow which he had so long meditated,—to seize on the whole country and unite it with his hereditary estates.

In July, 1512, the duke of Alba, general of Ferdinand, marched from Vittoria direct on Pamplona; the queen had retired into France, and Jean d’Albret, instead of encouraging his subjects by his presence to hold out, prepared to follow the example. Before his departure he assembled the chief inhabitants of that capital, exhorted them to make a vigorous resistance, and promised them soon to return from France with a formidable army. He had scarcely reached the Pyrenees when the Duke of Alba arrived before the place, which was summoned to surrender, and which did surrender without firing a shot. Ferdinand now marched with reinforcements, and most of the fortresses of the kingdom surrendered to him, or his martial son, the archbishop of Saragossa. It was not, however, to be expected that France would tamely witness the usurpation of the Spaniard. A formidable army, under 1516 the dukes de Longueville and Valois, and accompanied by the expelled king, speedily crossed the frontier and laid siege to Pamplona. But in a few days, owing partly to the want of provisions in the camp of the invaders and partly to the destructive assaults of the Spaniards, who yet refrained from a general action, the siege was raised, and the French army returned into Guienne. Its inglorious departure was followed by the submission of the whole kingdom to Ferdinand. The succeeding year King Jean made another effort to regain the throne, but with as little success. From the blood-stained house of Foix the scepter had forever departed: nor could all the armies of France, during the reigns of the Emperor Charles and his son Philip, restore it to the descendants of Jean. Both Catherine and her husband died in 1516.

Chapter XI

COUNTS OF BARCELONA. 801-1162

Among the numerous lordships of Catalonia, that of Barcelona, being the sole one which at any time exhibited the attributes of sovereignty, is the only one that can be admitted into the present compendium. The rest were either dependent on it or on the French kings prior to the merging of all in the crown of Aragon.

The exploits of Otgar and his nine companions, who are said to have made considerable conquests in the Tarraconensian province, or the country lying between the Ebro and the Pyrenees, prior to the irruption of Charlemagne in 778, are evidently fabulous. That a German or Northman, named Otgar and surnamed Catalo, governor of Guienne for King Pepin, being filled with grief at the miserable state of this province under the misbelievers, assembled nine bold companions, each with a resolute band, and passed the mountain barrier; that during a ten years’ war he reduced most of the fortified places, restoring liberty to Christianity and its worshipers; that from him the province changed its name from Tarragona to Catalonia; that his nine companions were so many barons, each with a separate government, but subject to their chief; that on the death of Otgar while pressing the siege of Ampurias he was succeeded by one of the barons; that on the approach of a vast Mohammedan army the Christian knights, foreseeing the impossibility of resistance, reluctantly retired to the fastnesses of the Pyrenees, where they remained until the army of Charlemagne, which they joined, made its celebrated irruption into the province; all these are inventions merely, which have no foundation in ancient authorities, which are read for the first time in one of the fifteenth century, and which are at variance with the statements of the Frank writers of the period.

The arrival of Ben Alarabi, styled Mohammedan governor of Saragossa, or an embassy from him, at the court of Charlemagne, who was then at Paderborn, and his offer to become a vassal 781-812 of the emperor on the condition of his being protected against the resentment of Abderahman I., king of Cordova, have been already related. We are assured that Gerona, Huesca, Saragossa, and even Barcelona submitted to the invader, their Mohammedan governors doing homage to him as obedient vassals. His success, however, was but transient; for in 781 Abderahman easily recovered these places, and was again acknowledged as undisputed master of all Aragon and Catalonia. In 785 Gerona again submitted to Louis, king of Aquitaine, son of the emperor, who, convinced that the Moorish vassal had been perfidious in the surrender of the place to Abderahman, nominated a Christian count to the government. In 796 the French generals, by the command of Louis, returned to the Peninsula, where they collected booty and captives in abundance. Though they undertook no siege, their arrival is said to have so terrified Zeyad, wali of Barcelona, that he became a vassal of the emperor. But Zeyad in 799 again transferred his allegiance to the king of Cordova. This perfidy so irritated Louis that another Frank army laid waste Catalonia, took and destroyed Lerida, and laid siege to Barcelona. Though the city was vigorously invested, it made a noble defense during two years. Zeyad, convinced that resistance was hopeless, departed for Gothic Gaul, with the intention of again recognizing Charlemagne as lord paramount of Catalonia. No sooner, however, did he appear before Louis than he was arrested as a traitor and sent to the emperor, who condemned him to a rigorous exile. The king of Aquitaine now hastened to an easy conquest. After six weeks more of frequent assault and a close investment, the inhabitants consented to surrender both the city and its governor (Omar, a relation of Zeyad) on the condition of their being allowed to retire wherever they pleased. The condition was accepted; Louis made a triumphant entry; the Christian worship was restored in all its splendor; a Christian garrison was established, and Bera, a native of Gothic Gaul, nominated in 801 first Count of Barcelona.

Of Bera’s administration we have nothing in detail, but are informed that it was characterized by great rapacity and cruelty. That he was not much worse in this respect than the other counts of Catalonia may be inferred from the complaints of the people, and from the edict in favor of the oppressed promulgated by Charlemagne in 812. In it Bera and the other governors were strictly enjoined to discontinue their vexations, of which the 802-820 archbishop of Arles was commissioned to inquire into the extent, and do justice towards the sufferers. But the count was at length accused by one Sunila, a Barcelonian of distinction, not only of rapacity but of treason, and the question of his innocence or guilt was decided in 820 by a single combat between the accuser and the accused before the Emperor Louis. Bera was vanquished, was therefore convicted of the crime, and subject to the last penalty, but by the clemency of the emperor death was mitigated into banishment to Rouen.

During the period of Bera’s sovereignty hostilities were not infrequent between the Mohammedans and Franks. In 802 Louis assembled a great army at Barcelona, took Tarragona, and laid waste the country in the neighborhood of Tortosa. At the same time a division of his army under Bera, Borello, count of Ossuna, and other generals passed the Ebro and destroyed the Mohammedan possessions as far as the gates of Villarabia. An army of the enemy, however, headed by Alhakem in person, soon forced them to retreat. The following year they renewed their attempts on Tortosa, but without effect. In 804, however, the king of Aquitaine reduced the place, after a bloody siege of forty days; but his generals failed before Huesca. In the sequel both places were recovered, and though in 809 Louis vigorously assailed Tortosa, he was compelled to raise the siege and retreat before Prince Abderahman, son of the Mohammedan king. If Huesca and Saragossa soon afterwards acknowledged Charlemagne as their liege superior, both were speedily recovered by the arms of Alhakem. Such was the ordinary fortune which attended the wars of this period. Both at length agreed to a peace, or perhaps a truce.

On the deposition of Bera, Bernardo, son of Wilhelm, count of Narbonne, was intrusted with the fief of Barcelona. War was now declared by the Franks against Alhakem; but though the Christian historians award the success to the generals of Louis, it is certain that so long as that king lived such success is very doubtful. On the accession of Abderahman the troubles which internally agitated the Mohammedan kingdom afforded a good opening for the warlike counts to resume their irruptions. With one of these successful rebels the Arabian king allied himself, and speedily improved the opportunity by reducing Manresa, Cardona, Salsona, and other fortresses. In fact, the domination of the 820-843 Franks was now confined to some places at the foot of the Pyrenees.

For some years no efforts were made to recover these lost conquests. The dissensions, which even during the life of Louis prevailed among his sons, afforded the Franks little opportunity for prosecuting the war with the Mohammedans. During these years we frequently find Bernardo at the court of Louis. In 829 he was made grand chamberlain, was intrusted with the education of Charles, afterwards surnamed the Bald, and received as a partner in the empire, a fortune which rendered him peculiarly obnoxious to the fierce sons of the monarch. The imprudent part, however, which he took in fomenting the undutiful conduct of Pepin, king of Aquitaine, whom he encouraged to arm against Louis, led in 832 to his deprivation of his various dignities. In revenge he caused Burgundy to declare in favor of Pepin. Indignant at his audacity, Lothaire, brother and rival of Pepin and the enemy of Bernardo, violated the sanctity of the cloister by seizing the nun Gerberg, the count’s sister, and drowning her in the Arar on the pretense of her being a witch. A brother and cousin of his were consigned to an untimely end and another relative banished.

Whatever might be the dignity held by Bernardo from 832 to 836, there seems little doubt that from the latter year to the period of his death he was count of Barcelona, and from 840, at least, he was certainly duke of Septimania. He did not long survive his restoration to power. By the death of Louis in 840 Catalonia and Gothic Gaul fell to Charles, the youngest son of that emperor. Indignant that in the division of the empire no portion was left for him, Pepin, son of the rebellious prince of that name, no sooner heard of his grandfather’s death than he seized on Aquitaine. Bernardo formed the party of the son as he had formed that of the father, and when summoned by Charles, his new sovereign, to do homage in person for his fief, he hastened to disarm by his presence that prince’s anger. His arrest was resolved; he fled; his domestics were laden with fetters, and his movable property seized. Feeling that he was unequal to contend with so powerful a prince, he forsook, or pretended to forsake, Pepin, gained the advisers of Charles, and again waited on the king, who pardoned him. In the wars which followed he remained neuter; but when in 843, on a new division between the two brothers, Catalonia again 844-858 fell to Charles, he began to aim at independence. However cautious his proceedings, they reached the ears of his superior, who concealed his resentment, but meditated revenge. Being summoned to attend a convocation of the states at Toulouse, he reluctantly obeyed. On entering the assembly, as he knelt to do homage, Charles seized him with the left hand and with the right plunged a poniard into his heart.

Wilhelm, the son of Bernardo, resolved to revenge this treacherous deed. The incursions of the Scandinavians, who now began to ravage the province of Neustria, seemed to afford him a propitious opportunity for his purpose. Having collected a few troops, he surprised Toulouse, where his family had doubtless many partisans; but the city being invested by Charles, he contrived to effect his escape and to reach the court of Abderahman. The Arabian king promised to aid him in the recovery of his father’s fief, on the condition of vassalage, and caused troops to be immediately collected for the purpose. At the head of his Mohammedan allies, and of such Christians as chose to join him, he returned into Narbonensian Gaul, where his followers committed great excesses. To damp his party in Catalonia, at least, Charles intrusted the fief of Barcelona and Gothic Gaul to Aledran, an officer of great valor, and made peace with Abderahman. But, though thus deserted by his ally and constrained to flee before the French generals, Wilhelm was not discouraged. He was still at the head of some followers, whose predatory excursions supplied him not merely with necessaries, but with wealth. With the latter, and still more with the aid of his secret creatures, in 848 he obtained possession of both Ampurias and Barcelona. Not satisfied with this success, he next aspired to the possession of all Catalonia. The governors of the frontiers collected troops and hastened to oppose him. They vanquished him and compelled him to a hasty retreat. During his absence from the capital two of his captives, counts who had partisans in Barcelona and who were aided by those of Aledran, formed a conspiracy against him and stabbed him on his return to the city. The Frank domination was now re-established and the exiled count restored to his dignity.

Wifredo I. (or Hunfrido) is first mentioned as count in 858, on the occasion of a visit made by two French monks in quest of relics, hence we may infer that he was occupied in Gothic Gaul, probably not yet severed from the Spanish march. He, however, 865-884 is mentioned as the last marquis of Gothia, his dominions north of the Pyrenees being, about 865, separated from the lordship of Barcelona and incorporated with that of Toulouse. This division he appears to have anticipated, for in 863 he seized by open force on Toulouse and other places under the pretext that they belonged to the fief of Barcelona. But by Charles the Bald he was deprived of his usurpation, and thenceforth regarded with suspicion. Of this circumstance advantage was taken by one Count Salomon, a Frank, who aspired to the fief, and who was not very scrupulous about the manner in which the present possessor might be deprived of it. By his malicious representations the king commanded Wifredo to appear at Narbonne. The count, accompanied by his son, a youth of tender years, obeyed the mandate. On reaching Narbonne he fell in a popular affray; the soldiers of his escort pretended to quarrel, probably at the instigation of Salomon, and, in attempting to restore harmony between them he received a mortal wound. As he alone fell on this occasion, his death has not been considered accidental.

Salomon obtained the object of his ambition, but his government, of which no record remains, was not of long duration. The manner in which he lost both it and life, as related by the oldest authority for his actions, the anonymous monk of Ripol, has an improbable and even romantic air. As the young Wifredo, who had been consigned to the care of the count of Flanders, grew in years, he became passionately fond of the count’s daughter, and it soon appeared that his love was returned with more ardor than virtue. The countess discovered the situation of her daughter, but was so far moved by the tears and protestations of the delinquent as not to reveal it to the count. After some reflection, like a prudent mother, she sought an interview with Wifredo, and required an oath from him,—an oath which he willingly took,—that if fortune ever put him in possession of his father’s fief, he would make the victim of his passion his wife. She also insisted that he should leave Flanders and return to Barcelona, where his mother and kindred resided. Journeying on foot towards Spain, he entered Barcelona at nightfall and hastened to his mother’s house. His kindred were secretly assembled, a conspiracy was formed to restore him, and, by so doing, to revenge the death of the elder Wifredo. Hearing one day that the count (Salomon) was riding out through the city unattended, Wifredo, accompanied by 884-928 some of his relations, hastened to the place, drew his sword, and ran it through the governor’s body. To the astonished crowd whom this deed assembled he declared who he was, and how he had revenged his murdered father, and, amidst the acclamations of all, was raised to the vacant dignity.

Wifredo II., continues the authority, lost no time in fulfilling the pledge he had given the countess of Flanders. He dispatched an embassy to that court, acquainted his benefactor with what he had done, and demanded the hand of his promised bride. The count not only readily acquiesced, but went to the French king and represented that what his son-in-law had done was only in pursuance of a purpose commendable in that age,—revenge,—and procured not only Wifredo’s pardon, but the confirmation of his dignity. Having received this unexpected intelligence, the new governor hastened to the court of Charles, to whom his manners rendered him agreeable. While there, news reached him that the Mohammedans were laying waste Catalonia. To repel them he demanded troops from the emperor, but Charles could spare none and merely advised him to return and oppose them with all his might. Being thus disappointed in the royal aid, and seeing that the whole means of resistance were to be furnished by himself alone, he is said to have required that if through his unaided arms the misbelievers should be expelled from Catalonia, he and his descendants in perpetuity should enjoy the fief independent of the French sovereigns,—in other words, the uncontrolled sovereignty of the province,—and we are told that the request was granted.

How little soever of this relation be true, it is certain that Wifredo the Warlike entirely cleared Catalonia of the infidels, and that from this time the province began to show little respect for the feudal rights claimed by the French kings. He died in 912, leaving to Miro, his eldest son, his new sovereignty, comprehending the lordships of Barcelona, Besalu, Roussillon, Gerona, Cerdaña, and Urgel, but placing over the last another of his sons, Suniario, on the condition of faith and homage to Miro. A third son professed in the monastery of Ripol and was afterwards bishop of Urgel.

Of Miro, who reigned about sixteen years, history is wholly silent. In his last testament he fell into the usual impolicy of the age,—of dividing his dominions among his sons. To Seniofredo, the eldest, he left Barcelona; to Oliva, Cerdaña; and to Miro, the 928-1089 youngest, Gerona. As the three princes were too young to govern, he confided the regency of the three states to his uncle Suniario, count of Urgel.

Of Seniofredo little more is known. He did not assume the sovereignty until 950; perhaps the uncle was too fond of power to resign it until necessity demanded the sacrifice. He is represented as a prince of great devotion. In 963 he went on a pilgrimage to visit the tombs of the apostles Peter and Paul at Rome. In 967 he died without issue, leaving his lordship to his cousin Borello, son of Suniario, count of Urgel.

Borello was not permitted to exercise so peaceful a sovereignty as his two immediate predecessors. In 984 he began to tremble at the prowess of the formidable Almansor, who appeared intent on reducing all Spain to the Mohammedan yoke. After a destructive course through the states of Leon and Castile this great general entered Catalonia. Near Moncada he annihilated the little army of Borello, who with difficulty escaped to the mountains of Manresa. The victor now marched on Barcelona, which he speedily stormed, and demon like, not only butchered a number of the inhabitants, but destroyed by fire a great part of the town. Though the count was not present to defend the city, the preservation of which he probably considered as hopeless, he soon issued from his mountain refuge, to rescue not only it, but Catalonia from the infidel grasp. To form a considerable body of cavalry, he caused proclamation to be made that all horsemen who aided him with lance and sword should enjoy the privileges of nobles. He now marched on Barcelona, in which Almansor had left a garrison, and which he speedily recovered. Of his subsequent actions no record remains. We only hear, in general terms, that he labored to repair the disasters inflicted by the Mohammedans, whom he at length succeeded in expelling from the province.

Of Raymundo I., the eldest son of Borello, history is almost silent. In the tenth year of his government, Catalonia being again invaded by the misbelievers, he and his brother Ermengaudo, count of Urgel, made a noble stand against them. In 1089 both armed in behalf of the usurper Mohammed, king of Cordova, against Solyman, the Berber chief, whom his own troops had declared king. In a battle which took place about ten leagues from Cordova, Ermengaudo and three Catalonian bishops (of Barcelona, Vique, and Gerona) fell mortally wounded, but in the end victory 1017-1081 declared for Raymundo and his allies—a victory which placed Mohammed on a slippery throne. This campaign added to the martial fame of Raymundo, and caused his name to be held in respect by the princes who were now fiercely contending for the fragments of the ruined empire of Abderahman. He died in 1017.

Berengario I. is still more summarily dismissed by the meager chroniclers of the province. By the monk of Ripol he is characterized as one who performed nothing worthy of mention, and who was in every way inferior to his father. He died in 1035.

Raymundo II. was a prince of much more vigor than his father. His victories over the Moorish king of Saragossa made his name renowned throughout all Spain. By the same monk of Ripol, twelve Mohammedan kings are said to have been tributary to him. The districts which he conquered he divided among his barons and knights, to be held by the usual feudal tenure. He was the first sovereign of all Catalonia.

But the sovereignty of Raymundo was not confined to Catalonia or his conquests in Aragon; he obtained considerable possessions beyond the Pyrenees, through his marriage with Almodis, daughter of the count de la Marche Limosine. The sovereignty of Carcassonne was conferred on his son Raymundo, who assumed the title of count. The young prince became exceedingly popular among his new subjects, who flocked to his standard whenever his state was invaded by the count de Foix, who, in virtue of a relationship with the ancient house of Carcassonne, laid claim to the rights which Raymundo enjoyed. Though not the oldest, Raymundo was the best beloved son of the count of Barcelona and the destined heir to that sovereignty. Raymundo II. died in 1077, during the festivities consequent on the marriage of his favorite son with a daughter of Robert Guiscard, count of Apulia.

Raymundo III., surnamed the Hairy, had scarcely grasped the reins of government when he was exposed to the intrigues of his elder brother, Berengario, who could not tamely witness his own exclusion from the rights of primogeniture. The two brothers soon regarded each other as enemies; the efforts of some courtly reptiles added to their animosity, and though Raymundo, in the hope of procuring peace, abandoned to Berengario the tribute paid by the Moorish king of Saragossa, deadly hatred took possession of the latter. In 1081 the princes were induced to give hostages to each other for the preservation of outward peace. But the hopes 1081-1111 of the Catalonians, that their princes would combine in the meditated war against the Mohammedans, were disappointed by the tragical death of Raymundo, who was assassinated between Barcelona and Gerona,—no doubt at the instigation of Berengario. The fratricide in vain endeavored to grasp the fruit of his crime. After a long struggle, being expelled from Catalonia by the barons and prelates, who espoused the interests of the infant son of Raymundo, and stung by intolerable remorse, he departed on a pilgrimage for the Holy Land, and died in Jerusalem, or on his return.

Of Raymundo IV., prior to his reaching his majority, we hear nothing, until the rebellion of a vassal, the viscount de Carcassonne, brings him into notice. Bernard Atto, viscount de Beziers, and on the maternal side descended from the house of Carcassonne, seeing the troubles in Catalonia consequent on the murder of Raymundo III., resolved to profit by them. Arriving in Carcassonne, he offered to the inhabitants to defend them against the usurper Berengario, and all other enemies, and to hold the lordship as the liege vassal of young Raymundo, until that prince reached an age fit to govern. But Bernard had no intention of resigning his usurped power, and when summoned, in 1104, by Raymundo, who had assumed the reins of government, to fulfill his pledge, he flatly refused. The indignant inhabitants—indignant as well through his maladministration as from affection to the memory of Raymundo III.—sent a deputation to Barcelona to do homage to the new count as their only lawful sovereign. They did more: they took up arms and expelled Bernard. To resume the lordship, he solicited and obtained the aid of the Count de Toulouse, whose vassal he offered to become. Carcassonne was soon invested, but the inhabitants having received some succors from Count Raymundo, resolved to hold out. The wars of this prince, Raymundo, with the Mohammedans had hitherto prevented him from hastening to the aid of his oppressed vassals, but in 1111 he put his troops into motion, passed the Pyrenees, and marched on Carcassonne. Bernard prepared for an obstinate defense. The city had again the prospect of a harassing siege, when the nobles and prelates of the lordship proposed terms of accommodation, to which both parties turned a favorable ear. Bernard agreed to hold the country as a fief of Barcelona, and to aid Raymundo in all his wars as became a good vassal.

The people, however, continued to be dissatisfied with the successful 1108-1131 viscount, whose exactions pressed heavily upon them, and their complaints to his superior of Barcelona were both loud and frequent. Again did they expel him from the capital, again did he return with troops and invest it. This time the siege continued three years, a fact sufficiently indicative of their deep-rooted hostility to him; nor even, when reduced to extremities, would they consent to surrender the place until they had obtained certain conditions, of which the observance was guaranteed by the count of Barcelona.

During this rebellion of Bernard, Raymundo had experienced no slight vexation from the Mohammedan arms. In 1108 they had laid waste most of Catalonia, but Raymundo succeeded in clearing the province of the misbelievers. His power daily increased. In 1111 the lordship of Besalu devolved to him by inheritance; in 1112 he married the only daughter and heiress of Gilbert, count of Provence, to whose estates he soon succeeded; in 1117 the fief of Cerdaña reverted to him by the death of the hereditary owner without heirs. But for much of his prosperity he was no less indebted to his arms than to his good fortune. In 1116 he hired a fleet for the conquest of Majorca, on which he embarked a considerable body of troops, furnished him by his vassals both of Catalonia and southern France. This fleet was chiefly supported by the maritime states of Pisa and Genoa, at the request of Pope Pascal II. Of all the exploits of Raymundo, this was the most useful, as the Balearic Isles, ever since the decline of the kingdom of Cordova, had been the retreat of Mohammedan pirates, whose extirpation both policy and humanity demanded. The expedition was crowned with complete success, though that success was stained by the indiscriminate carnage made of the inhabitants,—of women and children, and the aged as well as the armed men. This conquest, however, was not enduring.

Raymundo died in 1131. In his last illness he assumed the habit of the Templars. He left two sons: Raymundo, who succeeded him in Catalonia, and Berengario, who inherited Provence.

Raymundo V. was a prince well fitted to tread in the steps of his father. He wisely preserved a good understanding with Alfonso the emperor, who had married his sister and whom he acknowledged as his liege lord; and still more wisely did he solicit the hand of Doña Petronilla, daughter and heiress of Ramiro the monk, king of Aragon. At first, indeed, Ramiro was more inclined 1131-1137 to bestow the princess on the eldest son of Alfonso, and thereby lay a foundation for the union of the two crowns; but the Aragonese opposed their union with Castile and Leon,—in other words, their extinction as a nation,—and declared for the count of Barcelona, whose valor was already well known in Spain. The king was easily induced to approve the match; in 1137 it was arranged at Balbastro, in an assembly of the states. Raymundo was there affianced with the princess and declared heir to the throne, even if she died before arriving at a marriageable age. Ramiro resigned the royal dignity in favor of his son-in-law and retired to the cloister. From this moment until his death Raymundo governed Aragon with supreme authority, and Catalonia became inseparably united with that kingdom, or, rather, merged in it. His administration and warlike exploits will be found in the next chapter.

Chapter XII

KINGDOM OF ARAGON. 1035-1516

The origin and early history of Aragon being the same with that of Navarre, on which it was long dependent, need not be investigated here. The statements of writers who contend for the fabulous kingdom of Sobrarbe, the root of both sovereignties; of those who assign the origin of both to Garcia Ximenes, in 716, or of Aragon, in the ninth century, to the Navarrese Iñigo Arista, are not worth the trouble of refutation, since they rest on wholly monastic documents known to be apocryphal. The series of counts, beginning with Aznar or Asinarius, is not less fabulous than that of the kings. Undoubtedly there were local governors with that title at an early period, who, prior to the establishment of the Navarrese monarchy, were dependent either on the Asturian kings or on the Mohammedans of Aragon. Whether they were natives or Arabians, Christians or Mussulmans can never be determined.

In the time of Sancho el Mayor the lordship of Aragon formed only an inconsiderable angle of the present country of that name, comprising the northwestern extremity, and bounded by a line drawn from the Pyrenees above Jaca, passing somewhat west of that city by San Juan de la Peña and diverging westwards to the Val de Anso, near the banks of the River Aragon. It comprehended the most eastern portion of territory inhabited by the ancient Vascones, and this reason gives some countenance to the hypothesis that it followed the fate of Vasconia;—that from the reign of Alfonso I. it obeyed the Asturian kings. Notwithstanding the contiguity of the inhabitants to the Mohammedan possessions of Jaca, Huesca, and Saragossa, their position amidst the fastnesses of the Pyrenees might secure them against the attacks of the misbelievers. However this be, certain it is that the date of Aragonese independence must be assigned to 1035, the period when Sancho el Mayor divided his states among his sons, and when, as before related, Aragon fell to Ramiro.

Ramiro I. was no sooner in possession of the throne than, in concert with the Moorish kings of Saragossa, Tudela and Huesca,1035-1076 he invaded the dominions of his brother Garcia, then absent on a pilgrimage to Rome. While pressing the siege of Tafalla the royal devotee returned, vanquished, and expelled him from his new conquests. During Garcia’s life the war was as frequently renewed, but its progress was desultory and its issue indecisive. Not so Ramiro’s wars with the Mohammedans, since he extended his sway along the southern base of the Pyrenees, over the lordships of Sobrarbe, Ribagorza, and a great part of Pallas. The kings, too, of Tudela, Saragossa, and Lerida were his tributaries. In 1060 he convoked a council at Jaca, but scarcely had the ecclesiastics separated, when Sancho of Castile appeared before Saragossa with a numerous army and forced the Mohammedans to do him homage, on the ground that his father, Ferdinand, had been recognized as lord paramount over that state. Highly indignant at this irruption, Ramiro, who was then pressing the siege of Grado in Ribagorza, advanced against the invader: in the battle which immediately ensued he was vanquished and slain. This tragical event happened in the year 1063, in the month of May.

Sancho I. (Ramirez) was no less successful than his father in warring against the Mohammedans, who, after the catastrophe just related, had fortified Huesca and Balbastro and set their Christian masters at defiance. Having joined his forces with those of Ermengaudo, count of Urgel, he invested Balbastro. Though during the siege he lost this courageous ally, and though the Mohammedan kings sent powerful detachments to relieve it, in 1065 he forced the place to surrender and converted it into a bishop’s see. To protect his kingdom against the incursions of his natural enemy, he erected several fortresses along the southern frontier, and by his subsequent irruptions into the hostile territory inflicted great injury on the Mohammedans. It was doubtless owing as much to his military fame as to the contiguity of his state that on the tragical death of Sancho III. of Navarre, in 1076, he was elected king of that country.

During the following years of his reign Don Sancho steadily pursued his great object,—the extension of his boundary at the expense of the misbelievers. Having reduced one by one the Mohammedan fortresses between the Pyrenees and the Cinca, 1089-1096 in 1089 he invested Monzon, a place strong alike by nature and art, and situated on the eastern bank of that river. After a siege of some weeks it fell into his power. Huesca itself, being now the only considerable city from the Pyrenees to the Ebro and from Navarre to the Cinca which defied his power, in 1094 he invested that formidable place. The siege was pressed with vigor; but one day having approached too near the walls with the view of reconnoitering, while raising his hand to show a point where the assault might be made, he was mortally wounded by an arrow in his right side, which the action exposed. Being carried to his tent, he exacted an oath from his two sons, Pedro and Alfonso, that they would not raise the siege, but remain before the place until it capitulated or was taken by storm. Having received the necessary sacraments, he himself drew the arrow from the wound and breathed his last.

Pedro I., the eldest son of the deceased king, was immediately proclaimed in the camp. According to Rodrigo of Toledo, the siege was continued without intermission and the place reduced in six months. As Abderahman, the Moorish king of Huesca, obtained promises of aid both from the neighboring king of Saragossa and from King Alfonso of Leon and Castile, Pedro appears to have left his troops before the place and hurried over his dominions to press the march of reinforcements. On his return with a considerable force he had reason to congratulate himself on his precaution; the king of Saragossa, at the head of a great army, and the Christian count of Najera, Alfonso’s vassal, with a brave body of Castilians, were in motion. On the eve of the battle the Christian count is said to have entreated him to retire from the city, as resistance to such a force was hopeless. But he boldly advanced to the attack, which on both sides was impetuous and which raged during many hours,—until the count of Najera was taken prisoner, perhaps also till night separated the combatants. Under cover of the darkness the Moors fled with precipitation. The number of slain was prodigious; the following morning it was increased by a hot pursuit, which was continued as far as Almudevar. This great battle was fought in November, 1096, in the plain of Alcoraz, not far from Huesca. It was followed by the surrender of that important city, and, consequently, by the destruction of the Mohammedan power between the Ebro, the Cinca, and the Pyrenees. Some fortresses they still possessed 1104-1128 east of that river, but they had no longer the means of combined defense. The victor died in 1104.

Alfonso I., brother of the deceased Pedro, who now succeeded to the thrones of Aragon and Navarre, was of a genius even more military than his predecessors. Unfortunately for the interests of his kingdom and of his own fame, his marriage with an unprincipled woman, Urraca, daughter of Alfonso of Leon and Castile, and the dissensions to which that marriage gave rise, long averted the destruction of his misbelieving enemies.

Alfonso began his career of conquest by the reduction of such places north of the Ebro as were still occupied by the Mohammedans. While pursuing his conquests around the capital, and circumscribing the dominions of the Mohammedan king to the walls of that city, he was also collecting troops from Bearne and Gascony as well as from his own states. Having routed and slain Mezdeli, the wali of Granada, and defeated the generals of the Almoravides, among whom was Temin, brother of the Emperor Ali, in the spring of 1118 he vigorously assailed Saragossa, but it was valiantly defended, and the assaults were repulsed with some loss. In consternation at the evident firmness of his purpose, the besieged implored the aid of their brethren of Tortosa, Valencia, and even Andalusia. In vain: he prevented the arrival of reinforcements, and at length compelled the city to surrender. The following year he made it the capital of his kingdom.

This great hero was far from being satisfied with these important successes. In 1120 he overthrew, near Daroca, an amazing force of the Almoravides, leaving 20,000 dead on the field. The same year he reduced Tarragona, and many other fortresses in its neighborhood; he next obtained Calatayud, one of the most important cities south of the Ebro. Its fall, as well as the terror of his recent victory, occasioned the surrender of all the fortified places on the banks of the Xalon, among which was Daroca. Almost every year continued to witness his success. Though he assailed Lerida in vain, or perhaps spared the city in consideration of a tribute, he made destructive irruptions into Valencia and even into Andalusia. In the latter province he was joined by 10,000 Christian families, whose ancestors had remained under the Mohammedan yoke ever since the invasion by Tarik, and who were anxious—doubtless through fear of the consequences that might follow the discovery of their secret correspondence with him—to settle in his dominions. 1128-1134 He placed them in the conquests which he had won from the Moors. In 1128 he obtained another glorious victory over his enemy on the confines of Valencia. In 1130, too, he passed the Pyrenees from Navarre and assailed Bordeaux, which, after a long siege he reduced. His motive for this act of hostility was probably to punish the injuries inflicted by the duke of Aquitaine on the count of Bigorre, and his other allies in the south of France. His absence encouraged the Mohammedans of Lerida, Tortosa, and Valencia to harass his frontiers, they even defeating two of his generals.

On his return the following year he prepared for new campaigns. In 1133 he invested and obtained Mequinencia, an important Moorish fortress on the confines of Catalonia and on the banks of the Ebro. He next laid siege to Fraga, situated on the Cinca, a few leagues from Mequinencia. The place was well defended, both by art and the valor of the inhabitants. The inhabitants now proposed terms of capitulation, which Alfonso, incensed at their resistance, indignantly rejected. Despair urged them to new efforts. Owing to their pressing solicitations, Aben Gama, having received from Africa a reinforcement of 10,000 Almoravides, and collected all that could bear arms in his own state, again advanced to relieve Fraga. Though the Christian king had dispatched a strong body of his cavalry in search of provisions, and though he was greatly inferior in numbers, he did not hesitate to accept the engagement. It was long and desperately continued, but in the end the Christians were completely defeated: thousands of the Aragonese lay extended on the plain. Whether the king himself fell on this day, as is affirmed, or whether, as we are informed by another contemporary, he fled to the monastery of San Juan de la Peña, where grief in a few days put a period to his life, is doubtful. After the battle the Moors ravaged the surrounding country.

Thus fell the conqueror of Tudela, Saragossa, Tarragona, Calatayud, Daroca, Mequinencia, and most of the country south of the Ebro—the victor in many battles, who, from his warlike habits, was surnamed el Battallador, and, from the extent of his sway while king of Leon and Castile, el Emperador. Spain cannot boast of a more valiant prince: he was the first, since the conquest by the Arabs, who carried the Christian ensigns into Andalusia.

In his last will, made some time previous to his death, Alfonso, who had no issue, had bequeathed his dominions to two military orders,—to 1134-1157 the knights of St. John at Jerusalem and to the Templars. But neither Navarre nor Aragon paid attention to this disposition. The nobles of both kingdoms having met to choose a common sovereign, unfortunately disagreed in the choice and separated: at length the Aragonese elected the brother of their deceased king, Ramiro the Monk, whom they married to a princess of Aquitaine; while the Navarrese, no less desirous to restore their royal house, elected Garcia Ramirez.

Ramiro II. was no sooner in possession of the throne than he was visited by Alfonso of Leon, whose dubious conduct was well calculated to alarm him. Being at length rid of this dangerous ally, he laid claim to Navarre, on the pretense that it had long formed part of the same kingdom and could not be dismembered; and Garcia no less actively armed to assert his right to Aragon. A reconciliation being effected, both kings were at liberty to pursue other objects. Garcia seems to have hoped that as his rival was old, he should succeed, in default of heirs, to the sister kingdom; but before the expiration of the year the queen of Aragon was delivered of the Princess Petronilla. It was probably through disgust with the never-ceasing pretensions of Garcia, as well as from conscience which stung him for breaking his vows, that, in the third year of his reign, he resolved to marry his infant daughter, resign his dignity to his son-in-law, and return to the cloister. The choice, as related in the last chapter, fell on Raymundo, count of Barcelona, who, under the title of prince of Aragon, entered on the supreme government of the kingdom. Whether Ramiro continued to be styled king until his death, in 1157, is doubtful, but that his daughter is frequently styled sovereign, and that Raymundo never assumed the regal title, are clear from ancient documents.

Meanwhile in 1140 the grand master of the Templars had arrived in Spain to claim the kingdom in virtue of the testament made by King Alfonso. The modesty of the demand roused the wrath of the people. As, however, the chief nobles of Aragon had sworn to enforce its observance, and as the poor grand master had undertaken a long and perilous voyage to vindicate the rights of the order, he and Raymundo at length agreed that the absurd claim should be abandoned, and that, in lieu of it, the knights should receive ample domains in Aragon, on the tenure of military service against the misbelievers.

As Raymundo was brother-in-law to Alfonso, he had little difficulty in obtaining from that emperor the restitution of some1140-1173 places in Aragon still held by the Castilian troops, under the condition, however, of homage. Like Ramiro, he also aspired to the incorporation of Navarre with his kingdom, but without success. Finding that his own force was insufficient to contend with so warlike a prince as Don Garcia, he entered into an alliance with the Emperor Alfonso, the iniquitous object of which was a partition of the Navarrese dominions. But while Alfonso was investing Pamplona, Raymundo, in 1140, was signally defeated by the Navarrese king. In his hostile irruptions, during the following years, he was equally unsuccessful. In 1146, through the interference of the Emperor Alfonso, both princes agreed to suspend their quarrels and aid their ally of Leon and Castile in warring against the Mohammedans. All three were present at the siege and reduction of Baeza and Almeria. These important conquests, which were the right of Alfonso, appeared to have excited the emulation of Raymundo. The following year he invested and took the important city of Tortosa: for the success of this enterprise he was considerably indebted to his new subjects, the Templars, and to the Genoese fleet, which had assisted in the capture of Almeria. Next Lerida and Fraga, which had withstood the assaults of Alfonso I., yielded to the prince of Aragon. Finally, in 1153, he had the glory to free all Catalonia from the Mohammedans.

In 1162 Raymundo went to Turin to do homage in person for Provence, which he had received as a fief from the Emperor Frederic Barbarossa. But death surprised him within a few leagues of that city. His administration was fortunate for Aragon, the interests of which he zealously advanced. In his last will he left both it and the lordship of Barcelona to his eldest son Alfonso, to his second son Pedro the lordship of Cerdaña and Narbonensian Gaul. In 1163 Petronilla resigned her regal title to her son, though she lived until 1173.

Alfonso II. took possession of the government at a tender age, for which reason the first three years of his reign are barren of events. In 1167, on the death of his cousin, the count of Provence, to whom his father had granted that fief in perpetuity, he reunited that lordship to Aragon, and he soon succeeded by inheritance to that of Roussillon. He was no less ambitious to extend his dominion by conquest over the Moors. From 1168 to a few years before 1177-1206 his death he gained several fortresses south of the Ebro lying towards the Valentian frontier from the enemy. Of these the most important was Teruel. In 1177 he assisted Alfonso IX. of Castile, whose niece he had married, to reduce Cuenza. That he obtained no further successes over the Africans must be attributed partly to the unfortunate defeat of the Castilian king at Alarcos, and partly to his own dissensions with the king of Navarre. He did not long survive that defeat. He died in 1196, leaving Aragon, Catalonia, and Roussillon to his eldest son Pedro, and Provence to the second son Alfonso. In his reign the Spanish era was suppressed in Catalonia and the Christian substituted. This country was the first in Spain to set the example.

Pedro II., in the first year of his reign, had some disputes with his mother respecting some fortresses left to her as a dowry by the late king. In 1203 he embarked for Rome to be crowned by the pope. On this occasion he not only did homage as a feudatory of the church, but by a public instrument engaged that Aragon should forever remain a fief of the Holy See, and be considered the property of the successors of St. Peter. In 1205 the states assembled at Saragossa protested against the act, as derogatory to the honor of the nation, as injurious to the people, and, consequently, as remaining without effect.

In 1204 Pedro married Maria, daughter and heiress of the Count de Montpellier. Whether through dissatisfaction with his conduct towards his bride, which is represented as unjustifiable, or through his disregard of their privileges, the people of that lordship refused, in 1205, to admit him within their capital. Incensed at their disrespect, the following year he applied to the pope for a dissolution of his marriage (probably it had not then been consummated); but it does not seem that his application was well received. If even he had canonical grounds for it, he appears to have soon abandoned them, for in 1207, or in 1208, his queen was delivered at Montpellier of a son—afterwards the famous Don Jayme el Conquistador. But the birth of a son did not diminish the hatred of Pedro nor prevent him, at a subsequent period, from resuming his application to the papal court; but Innocent, after a patient examination of the grounds on which it was made, refused to grant him the relief he solicited.

Like his predecessors, Pedro was frequently at war with the Moors. In 1206 he took the important fortress of Montalvan. He 1212-1213 had also the glory of assisting in the campaign of 1212 against the emperor of Morocco, and of contributing to the defeat of the Moors on the immortal plains of Tolosa.

But if the king of Aragon was thus valiant against the enemies of Christianity, he did not exhibit equal zeal against the Albigenses, who were now exceedingly numerous in the south of France, especially in his French domains. In the crusade headed by the famous Simon de Montfort he afforded no aid to the Catholic cause, though he frequently and fruitlessly interfered to reconcile the chiefs of the two parties. In 1211, being at Montpellier, he was reluctantly persuaded not only to receive the viscount’s homage, but to sanction the proposal of a marriage between his son Jayme and a daughter of Simon; he even delivered the young prince into the hands of the viscount, both as a pledge of his sincerity and that the infante might be educated according to the manner of the times under so renowned a leader. But that sincerity was suspected by the crusaders, when, on his return to Aragon, he gave one of his sisters in marriage to the count of Toulouse, the head of the Albigenses,—the more still when he married another to the son of that baron.

After the campaign immortalized by the victory of Las Navas de Tolosa, Pedro was urgently pressed by his brother-in-law and by his relatives the counts of Bearne and Foix, all protectors of the Albigenses, to arm in their behalf. Though he had some reason to be dissatisfied with the crusaders, who had seized several fortresses belonging to the appanage of his sisters and had shaken his own domination in France, and though he now passed the Pyrenees with a considerable army, his object was rather to act as a mediator than as a belligerent. At the head of a great combined army of Aragonese, Catalonians, and French he advanced against Muret, a fortified town on the Garonne, about two leagues from Toulouse. The besieged soon acquainted the Count de Montfort with their situation and implored relief. The latter, who was then at Saverdun, within a few miles of Muret, then marched to the besieged place, forced the lines, and threw himself into it. On the morning of September 12 the crusaders prepared for battle. The little army then issued from the gates and the struggle commenced. The van, headed by the count de Foix, was soon dispersed. Montfort now hastened to the place where he perceived the floating standard of Aragon, knowing that he should there find the king. Pedro 1213-1218 manfully defended himself, but he was soon overpowered by the furious charge of the crusaders, and he fell among a heap of slain. The victors inflicted a horrible carnage among the fugitives, showing mercy to none. The royal corpse was discovered and buried with suitable honors by the Templars.

As Jayme I., the most celebrated sovereign in the ancient annals of Aragon, was only six years of age on his father’s death, troubles could not fail to distract his minority. At first Simon de Montfort refused to surrender him to his subjects—doubtless through fear of losing a royal husband for his daughter; but the pope, at the instance of the Aragonese nobles, interfered, and commanded the victor to deliver the infant into the hands of the Cardinal Pietro de Mora. The count reluctantly obeyed, especially as he perceived the Aragonese were arming in good earnest to recover their prince. The administration of the kingdom during his minority rested in his uncle, Don Sancho, count of Roussillon, assisted by two colleagues,—one for the affairs of Aragon, the other for those of Catalonia. The choice of Sancho was the very worst that could have been made: he was known to have aspired openly to the crown. He soon renewed his attempts to procure his nephew’s exclusion. The party increased so rapidly that the grand master of the young prince, alarmed for his ward, consulted with the stanch adherents of royalty, and the result was a resolution to convoke, at Monzon, a general meeting of the states. At the time appointed (September, 1216), some prelates, barons, and many deputies assembled, and did homage to Jayme as king of Aragon and count of Barcelona. No sooner was Sancho acquainted with this proceeding than he began to raise troops, with the undisguised view of forcibly seizing the crown. As the castle of Monzon was justly considered too insecure a residence for the young king, his loyal barons conducted him first to Huesca and then to Saragossa, where he was joyfully received by the people. This step and the unpopularity of his government, which is represented as rapacious, seems to have disconcerted the rebel uncle, who now wished to secure, as long as possible, the continuance of his power. But the year following (1218), in an assembly of the states at Lerida, he was persuaded or compelled to resign the regency in consideration of ample revenues secured to him both in Aragon and Catalonia. It was probably as much with the view of fortifying their young monarch by the alliance of Castile as of securing an heir to the throne that his counselors now married 1222-1228 him to the infanta Leonora, daughter of Alfonso VIII. and sister of the Princess Berengaria. But tranquillity long continued a stranger to Aragon. In 1222 two barons raised troops and made war on each other with as much ceremony as greater potentates. The king himself, for some time, was but a machine in the hands of another of his uncles, Ferdinand, whose creatures spied all his steps and indirectly opposed all his views. One day, however, he effected his escape and retired to Teruel, where he assembled his cavaliers to accompany him in a meditated irruption into Valencia. Though some thousands hastened to join him, and he laid siege to Peñiscola, the place resisted all his assaults. One good effect, indeed, resulted from his preparations: they so much alarmed the Mohammedan governor that he made haste to acknowledge Jayme as his liege lord. This example constrained many more, and though the cities of Huesca, Saragossa, and Jaca for a time held out, they ended by joining the royal cause.

Though the Balearic Isles, or at least the chief of those isles, Majorca, had been reduced by Raymundo III., count of Barcelona, the Mohammedan pirates had regained possession of them, and resumed their savage descents on the coast of Catalonia. Amidst the troubles which had recently afflicted the kingdom and while destitute of a fleet, the Aragonese had neither the inclination nor the means to think of the reconquest. The Catalonians, who suffered most by the pirates, whose ships were sometimes captured by them, demanded redress. Pressing solicitations were made to Jayme to prepare an armament for the destruction of these piratical strongholds. For this purpose, at the close of the year 1228, he convoked the states of Barcelona, in which the expedition was unanimously decreed. The preparations were pushed with ardor,—the crusade was proclaimed, from Genoa and Provence a fleet was procured to transport the forces, and 18,000 men were embarked on 150 vessels. After a tempestuous passage, which made most of the crusaders repent leaving their domestic hearths, the armament appeared off the port of Palmera. In utter ignorance where a landing might be most safely attempted, and where the enemy was to be found, the king at first hesitated what to do. He was soon released from his anxiety by a Moorish mariner, who swam towards the fleet from the shore, was taken on board the royal vessel, and was able to give him all the information he required. He learned that the islands contained 42,000 men capable 1228-1234 of bearing arms, and that 10,000 were already drawn up beyond a mountain which appeared in sight; as succor was also daily expected from Tunis, he was advised to land without delay. The disembarkation was effected at midnight, yet not without opposition from a small body of islanders who watched the operation and were easily dispersed. The day following, as the Christians advanced they encountered the forces of the Moorish king, ready to receive them. The battle immediately commenced: it was for some time disputed with equal bravery, but reinforcements arriving in aid of the islanders, the assailants began to give way. The capital was soon after invested, and though the defense was obstinate, the assaults were not less so. The city was taken by storm: a great number of the besieged fled at one gate, while the Christians entered at another, the Moorish king with one of his sons being taken prisoner. The victor, having purified the grand mosque and confided the defense of the place to a Christian garrison, returned to his kingdom. As Minorca and Iviça were still in possession of the pirates, in 1232 Jayme headed other expeditions. Minorca immediately submitted, and the example was now followed by the mountaineers of Majorca itself. But no attempt was made on Iviça until 1235, when it was subdued by his generals. The conquest, which was now perfected, surrounded the name of Don Jayme with glory, and prepared the way for one of much greater magnitude,—that of Valencia.

The decline of the empire of the Almohades and the successes obtained by Ferdinand III. over the princes of Andalusia were sufficient to excite the emulation of so enterprising a monarch as Don Jayme. In 1232 he convoked his states at Monzon to deliberate on the invasion of Valencia. The project was approved, and the following year was appointed for its execution. As in the case of Majorca, a crusade was solemnly proclaimed, and early in the spring of 1233 numbers of adventurers from Provence and Narbonne flocked to the frontiers of Valencia. The campaign opened by the siege of Buriana, which, after a gallant defense, submitted. Its fall constrained that of several fortresses in the neighborhood. In 1234 Moncada was rapidly reduced. During the three following years Jayme seems to have been occupied in his preparations for the entire conquest of the Moorish kingdom and capital; though his generals triumphed in one action at least over a formidable body of the misbelievers, he himself did not take the field 1238-1247 until 1238. With the powerful reinforcements which reached him from all parts Jayme crossed the Guadalaviar, seized on Ruzafa, where he entrenched his camp, and drew his lines of circumvallation around the city of Valencia. A Tunisian fleet soon arrived off the coast, but seeing the place so closely invested, the Mohammedans, in despair of throwing relief into the city, removed to sea. The departure of this long-expected ally was the deathblow to the hopes of the king of Valencia, especially as the progress of the siege was rapid, as the walls were much shaken by the battering-engines, and as provisions began to fail. He now demanded a safe conduct for his nephew, whom he sent to the Christian camp, to procure favorable terms from the enemy. Jayme would grant no other than a permission to the inhabitants to retire within five days with their movable substance. The condition was a hard one, but it was accepted by the Moorish king, who at the command of the Christian even hoisted the standard of Aragon on the towers of the city. On the expiration of the time the place was delivered up to Don Jayme, and 50,000 Mohammedans with the king left its walls never to return: the victor triumphantly entered, was present, as usual, at the purification of the grand mosque, which was converted into a cathedral; and, as usual also, the deserted houses and fields were divided among the soldiers.

By a treaty solemnly made between Jayme and the Moorish king the latter was guaranteed in the possession of the whole country south of the Xucar; but scarcely had the former left the new conquest than the grand master of the Templars invested and took Cullera, while another division of the Aragonese reduced another fortress belonging to the dethroned Moor. The inhabitants armed and advanced against the faithless assailants, but without success. Their complaints, however, of Christian perfidy were loud and just.

It cannot be matter of surprise that the insulted, betrayed, and oppressed Mohammedans should be eager to throw off the yoke under which they groaned. In 1247 they rose, chose a leader, and seized several fortresses. Jayme had now an excuse for proceeding to greater rigor—for decreeing their expulsion from the kingdom of Valencia. He caused the fatal mandate to be translated into Arabic and to be distributed throughout the country. A month only was allowed the persecuted people to collect their movable property and to depart. In vain did they beseech him to recall his mandate, and offer a large sum of money for permission 1252-1276 to remain. Seeing that nothing was to be obtained from his humanity or justice, they arose in a body to resist his decree. But this desperate effort was of little avail: the places which they surprised were quickly recovered and the inhabitants escorted to the frontiers of Murcia. Owing, however, to some domestic troubles, and to the resistance offered by some fortresses, the expulsion of the whole body was necessarily deferred. In 1252, four years after the promulgation of the decree, he issued a second, which allowed them a respite of twelve months prior to their final departure. At the expiration of this period most of them were pitilessly driven across the frontier.

If we except these brilliant conquests, there is little in the actions of Jayme to command our respect. In 1229 his marriage with Leonora of Castile was declared null, on account of their being within the forbidden degrees of consanguinity; but the infante Alfonso, the issue of this connection, was at the same time declared legitimate. As Jayme was not of a temperament to remain long without a queen, in 1235 he received the hand of Yoland, a Hungarian princess. To Pedro, the issue of the second marriage, he proposed to leave Catalonia, a proposal highly resented by Prince Alfonso and not very agreeable to the Catalonians themselves: hence the divisions which began to distract his family and which embittered his domestic peace. In 1258 his states remonstrated against the partition of the monarchy, as prejudicial to all their interests and as injurious to the eldest son Alfonso, but the remonstrance was without effect. In 1260 Alfonso, who had never been loved by him, suddenly died, and the favorite son, Pedro, became his lawful heir. The same year he arranged the marriage of this son with Constança, daughter of Manfred, king of Sicily—a marriage, as we shall perceive in the next reign, followed by momentous events.

Don Jayme died in 1276, in Valencia, whither he had advanced to chastise a partial insurrection of his Moorish subjects, who, being aided by the king of Granada, had defeated two of his barons. He is little deserving the high character given him by the peninsular historians. If magnanimity can be reconciled with perfidy, devotion with unbridled lust and barbarous cruelty, their encomiums may be just.

Pedro III. lost no time in restoring tranquillity in Valencia, but scarcely was this object effected when many of his rebellious barons, whose constant end was the curtailment of the royal prerogative 1276-1280 and the oppression of the poor, broke out into an open insurrection. He reduced them to obedience. In two years they again rebelled, but with no better success: they were invested in the fortress of Balaguer, which was at length compelled to surrender, and were for some time detained prisoners.

But the most important transactions of Pedro were with Sicily. On the death of Manfred, who had usurped that kingdom, to the prejudice of Conradin, his nephew, the true heir, and who fell at Benevento, in battle with Charles of Anjou, whom the pope had invested with the fief, the French prince took undisturbed possession of the Two Sicilies. When Conradin had attained his sixteenth year, knowing the hatred borne to the French rule by the Sicilies, and that the Ghibelline faction was at his command, he resolved to vindicate his rightful claims. In this, however, he was defeated, was taken prisoner in the retreat, was tried, condemned, and executed at Naples. The Ghibellines, and all who revered the rights of blood, now turned their eyes towards Constança, daughter of Manfred and Queen of Aragon, while the Guelphs, and all who recognized the Papal supremacy over the kingdom, continued the zealous assertors of the rights of Charles, the pope’s feudatory. But the tyrannical government of Charles, his rapacity and injustice, the heavy exactions which he made the people to endure, his contemptuous disregard of their complaints, the haughtiness of his French counselors, soon made him hateful to the whole body of his subjects. The oppressed inhabitants dispatched messengers with complaints to Nicholas III., to Michael Palaeologus, emperor of Constantinople, and, above all, to Pedro of Aragon, whom they regarded in right of Constança as lawful ruler, and whom they urged to expel the tyrant without delay.

Pedro was overjoyed at this opportunity of extending his dominions; but to fight against the pope, the king of France, brother to Charles of Sicily, and the whole party of the Guelphs, was too momentous an undertaking to be lightly commenced. He first secured a considerable sum from the Greek emperor, to whom the Sicilian usurper was obnoxious; he next collected a fleet, assembled his barons, gave liberty to his rebel subjects, whom he had placed in confinement, but took care to conceal his purpose. By pretending that his expedition was to be directed against Barbary, and by even sending an ambassador to the pope (Martin IV.), soliciting an indulgence for all who joined him in warring against the infidels, 1280-1283 he hoped to lull the suspicions of Europe. But Martin, who was not to be deceived, contumeliously dismissed the ambassador. This circumstance did not discourage Pedro, whose armament was prosecuted with an alacrity inspired by the hope of success.

While the inhabitants of Messina were negotiating with the pope and Charles of Anjou for pardon and a redress of grievances, and while the latter was preparing to inflict a terrific vengeance on both them and all their countrymen, Pedro, at the head of his formidable armament, left the ports of Catalonia and steered towards the African coast. In August he landed at Trapani, where his reception was enthusiastic: he hastened to Palermo, where he was joyfully proclaimed king of Sicily. The inhabitants of Messina, still invested by Charles, besought the new monarch to relieve them, and to receive their homage. Indignant at the proposal of the French prince, who insisted on the fall of 800 obnoxious heads as the price of forgiveness, they had defended themselves with a valor almost superhuman: even the women and children had joined in the resistance, and from the walls had harassed the besiegers. Pedro now hastened to their aid, his fleet proceeding along the coast, while he rapidly marched by land, and, to raise their courage, he sent before him 500 ballasteros and a few companies of Almogaveres. Elated by the arrival of these formidable allies, and by the vicinity of their new king, they redoubled their hostilities against the French. Charles now raised the siege and conducted his powerful armament towards the ports of Calabria: it was pursued by that of Aragon, headed by Don Jayme, a son of Pedro, who took twenty vessels, with 4,000 prisoners. But the young prince, listening only to his ardor, instead of returning to Messina, pursued Charles to a fort in Calabria, which he attempted to take, where, being repulsed with some loss, he reëmbarked his troops. His father, indignant at his failure, deprived him of the naval command, which was intrusted to a more experienced chief, Roger de Lauria.

No sooner did Pope Martin hear of Pedro’s proclamation at Palermo and Messina, of the enthusiasm shown towards the monarch by the Sicilians, and of the flight of Charles, than he excommunicated the Aragonese.

While Pedro remained in Aragon, his admiral, Roger de Lauria, reduced the greater part of Malta. He afterwards defeated a French fleet within sight of Naples, taking the prince of Salerno, 1283-1286 the son of Charles, prisoner. The vindictive pope now proclaimed a crusade against the excommunicated king of Aragon: his legate zealously preached it in France, declaring Pedro deprived of the crown, which he conferred on Charles de Valois, who was thus to possess both it and that of the Two Sicilies. Fortunately for Pedro both Sicily and Aragon required other weapons than a furious churchman could wield before they could be drawn from his sway. Though the same indulgences as were awarded to all who warred for the holy sepulcher were promised to such as engaged in this Spanish crusade; though vast numbers, among whom was Jayme, king of Majorca, brother and vassal of the Aragonese king, flocked to the standard of Philip; though that monarch lost no time in penetrating, by way of Roussillon, into Catalonia, at the head of 100,000 men, these formidable preparations ended in nothing. If Gerona, after a long and bloody siege, capitulated, the French fleet was almost annihilated near Rosas by the famous Roger de Lauria. Even this advantage was so dearly bought,—the ranks of the invaders were so thinned by pestilence and the sword,—that Philip, leaving a garrison in Gerona, immediately returned to Perpignan, where he died. The rear of his army in this retreat was dreadfully harassed by Don Pedro, who recovered Gerona with the greatest facility.

Pedro had just dispatched his eldest son Alfonso with a small armament to dethrone his brother Don Jayme, as a punishment for the aid which that prince had lent to the invaders, when death surprised him at Villa Franca de Panades. In his will he left Aragon and Catalonia to Alfonso, and Sicily to his second son Don Jayme.

Though Alfonso III. heard of his father’s death immediately after his disembarkation he refused to return until he had dethroned his uncle. As Jayme was not much beloved by the inhabitants of these islands, whom he had offended by his exactions, the enterprise was successful. The dethroned king had still Montpellier, Conflans, and other possessions in France: to these he retired, but they appear the same year to have been laid waste by Roger de Lauria, the able and intrepid admiral of Aragon.

During Alfonso’s absence the nobles of Aragon had assembled in Saragossa, to provide for the due administration of justice. Some of them were not a little scandalized that he should have assumed in the Balearic Isles the title of king, since, by ancient custom, it could be assumed only after he had sworn before the 1286-1295 assembly of the states to observe the customs, privileges, immunities and laws of the realm. Alfonso, indeed, was placed in a situation of some difficulty: though he knew that three-fourths of the deliberative body, and a still greater portion of the people, were in favor of his prerogatives, he saw that the discontented would not draw the sword in the impending war with France and the pope unless he consented to sacrifice them: indeed, during the late wars, even when Catalonia was invaded by the French, several cities of Aragon had shown no disposition to defend the country. Knowing well how necessary union was at such a crisis, he acquiesced in their demands, and in so doing he transformed the monarchy into a republic. Some of these concessions he afterwards revoked when the confederates invaded Valencia, which refused to join their cause: but he was a second time compelled to grant them.

The short reign of Alfonso was not, however, much harassed by foreign war. Through the English Edward I., who had agreed to a matrimonial connection between him and a princess of England, conferences were frequently held by the ambassadors of the powers concerned for the restoration of peace.

Alfonso scarcely survived the conclusion of this peace: he suddenly died at Barcelona, in June, 1291, in the midst of his negotiations for the hand of the Princess Eleanor, daughter of his ally, the English king. As he left no issue, the crown devolved to his brother, the king of Sicily, who hastened to claim the rich inheritance.

Jayme II. was no sooner in possession of the throne of Aragon, than, to retain it without opposition from the pope, the French king and Charles, now king of Naples, he showed a disposition to make peace with those powers. Alarmed at the intelligence, his Sicilian subjects conjured him not to become a party to any project which did not unite the two crowns; and he promised to regard their prayer. In 1295, however, through the care of Boniface VIII., a new congress was held, to procure the same conditions as had been sanctioned by Alfonso. To cement the alliance between Jayme and the Neapolitan king, the former agreed to marry the Princess Blanche, daughter of the latter. Thus were the Sicilians a second time betrayed: on receiving the hand of the princess, Jayme made a formal cession of the island in favor of his father-in-law.

To the conduct of the Sicilians in this age it is impossible to refuse the tribute of admiration. Rather than submit to the enemies 1295-1300 of their national independence and of their individual liberty,—though their resources were few, and they were then abandoned by one whose duty to protect them was most solemn,—they resolved to brave their numerous formidable antagonists. They proclaimed Frederic, brother of Jayme, and prepared for a vigorous defense. To the exhortations of the king of Aragon that they would submit to the Holy See they listened with indignant contempt. In an interview with the pope, who gave him the investiture of Sardinia and Corsica, he was so strongly pressed to fulfill his conditions of the treaty that, though he was averse to contend with a brother, he could no longer delay assisting his ally, the Neapolitan king. Having recalled his Aragonese and Catalonian subjects in the service of Frederic, in 1298 he passed over to Italy with a considerable armament. There, having conferred with the pope and the king of Naples on the plan of hostilities, he sailed for Sicily. In this unnatural, and, on the part of the King Jayme, unjust war, it is some consolation to perceive that he was not entirely deaf to the voice of blood. Hearing that his brother was advancing with a fleet to oppose him, he besought that prince to return to the island, and thereby avoid the danger no less than the disgrace of a battle. The latter, believing that he was an unwilling, and would prove no very destructive enemy, obeyed the intimation. But at first he showed no want of zeal in the cause of the church: he took several fortresses and laid siege to Syracuse. The vigorous resistance, however, of the inhabitants, and the capture of a part of his fleet by the vassals of his brother, compelled him to return to Spain for reinforcements. His absence was diligently improved by Frederic, who immediately recovered the places which he had gained. With a powerful fleet he a second time appeared off the coast: he was encountered by the Sicilian king, who, after a gallant action, was defeated, eighteen of the Sicilian vessels and numerous prisoners remaining in the power of the victors. There is every reason to believe that Jayme could have taken his brother’s galley on this memorable occasion, but that nature urged him to connive at its escape. Nor would he improve his advantage: instead of proceeding to the Sicilian coast, he returned to Naples, declared that he had fulfilled his share of the treaty, that Charles must now prosecute the war with the French and Neapolitans alone, and that he should return to his dominions, the affairs of which demanded his presence. And return he did, notwithstanding the remonstrances 1300-1327 of his father-in-law and the pope; nor would he, at any subsequent period, renew the unnatural strife.

In the reign of Jayme the Templars sustained the persecution to which allusion has before been made. Being accused of heresy,—a senseless and malicious accusation, as applied to the whole body,—the knights, to escape the fury of the multitude, threw themselves into their fortresses. This act, which self-preservation rendered necessary, was represented to the king as an open rebellion. He speedily collected troops and marched to reduce them to obedience; but on his approach the places submitted without a blow, the knights informing him that what they had done had been only in self-defense, that they were too loyal to oppose their liege lord. And when, in 1312, the order was abolished by the council of Vienna, Jayme, in conjunction with the kings of Castile and Portugal, procured an honorable exemption for those of Spain, who were allowed by the fathers of the council to retain their possessions during life.

Mention has been already made that the sovereignty of Sardinia and Corsica was conferred by the pope on the king of Aragon; but though the investiture was his, the national government of Sardinia was in the hands of the Pisans, whose exactions are said to have oppressed and their tyranny to have exasperated the natives. In 1321 some of the nobles confederated and sent a deputation to Jayme, requesting him to wrest the island from the tyrannical governors, who despised alike his authority and their privileges. In the meantime Jayme sent a small reinforcement under his son Alfonso to aid his partisans, who were already in arms. Cagliari was invested, but was instantly relieved by the Pisans: the infante, however, continued the siege and obtained a considerable advantage in the open field over the troops of the republic. In 1324 the city capitulated, the Pisans being still left in the government, as vassals of Aragon, on the condition of their surrendering the other fortresses and towns of the island. The following year, however, witnessed many commotions, produced by the agents of the republic, who labored to regain their lost domination; so that the king was compelled to send a second armament to reduce Cagliari, and thereby establish his authority. In 1326 that important place surrendered and the Pisans abandoned the island.

Alfonso IV. was doomed to much annoyance from the new 1327-1347 conquest of Sardinia. In 1330 the Genoese, incensed that the Catalonians, their rivals in commerce, should have obtained a settlement in seas which they considered as exclusively their right, not only fomented a spirit of disaffection among the islanders, but sent a fleet to invest the capital. A bloody war ensued, and the warfare raged during the whole of this prince’s reign.

Alfonso, like his predecessors, was not averse to encourage the rebellions which at this period almost continually afflicted Castile, but without deriving any ultimate advantage from his ungenerous policy. If the internal state of his own kingdom was tranquil, it was not so in his own house. His eldest son and destined successor, Don Pedro, offended that he had bestowed on Alfonso—another son, by a second wife—some domains of the crown, complained loudly of his prodigality. It was not in Alfonso’s power to stifle these dissensions, which not only embittered his peace, but aggravated the hydropsical disease under which he had long suffered. He died at Barcelona in 1336.

No sooner had Pedro IV. ascended the throne than Queen Leonora, apprehensive of the consequences of a quarrel with him, fled to Fraga, whence she implored the protection of her brother Alfonso, king of Castile. At the same time she wrote to Don Pedro, reminding him that, though his stepmother, she was his father’s widow, that her children were his brothers, and beseeching him to bury past remembrances in oblivion. He replied that she need be under no apprehension from him; that his object was to procure a good understanding with her and his brothers: yet such was his duplicity that at this very moment his troops were reducing the fortresses which belonged to her. Some years having elapsed, in 1345 the king, so far from wishing to do his stepmother justice, endeavored to seize the domains belonging to his two brothers, Ferdinand and Juan, on the pretext that the revenues of the crown were materially injured by the prodigality of their common father. On the representations of the Castilian king he again suspended though he was far from abandoning his purpose. The troubles which agitated his kingdom, and to which we must now advert, will account for this temporary forbearance.

The dissatisfaction of some of Pedro’s barons commenced with his reign. A party in the state he offended in 1347, by purposing to set aside the order of succession, as established by Don Jayme el Conquistador, which, on the failure of direct heirs male, called 1347 in the collateral male branches,—or, in other words, which enforced the Salic law. As Pedro, by his Queen Maria of Navarre, had only a daughter—the infanta Constanza—his brother Don Jayme was the presumptive heir to the crown. Securing the succession to Pedro’s daughter, however, had no effect on the prince this tended to exclude, and Jayme now resolved to vindicate his supposed claims by force. Amid the elements of discontent which lay scattered on every side he had no difficulty in collecting means of resistance. Several of the great towns, and a large proportion of the barons, declared for him: in revenge, he was deprived by the king of the government of Valencia. It was the imprudence, no less than the fortune, of Pedro, to multiply his personal enemies. Hearing that his brother Ferdinand was in treaty for the hand of Leonora, infanta of Portugal, he demanded and obtained (his queen was no more) that princess for himself.

From the causes just detailed, and from the restless ambition of his barons, who constantly aimed at diminishing the royal authority, a formidable confederacy was soon formed against the king. At the head of this league was Don Jayme. A similar one was soon formed in Valencia, under the guidance of the infante Ferdinand. Both diligently raised troops to take the field against the king; the latter obtained leave from Alfonso to raise 800 horse in Castile. To render their force resistless, both combined in the pursuit of the same object—the annihilation of the royal power—and engaged to assist each other whenever assailed by the troops of Pedro. Conscious of their united strength, they now loudly demanded the convocation of the states, which accordingly met at Saragossa, and which were, as usual, opened by the monarch. One day, after a concession had been wrung from Pedro, when others as exorbitant were demanded by Don Jayme and the leaguers, the king rose in great fury, taxed the infante with treason and rebellion, as one who, without honor or faith, aimed at subverting the royal power by working on the untutored minds of the people. The confederates, in consternation at his unexpected boldness, and convinced of the bitter truths contained in his invectives, stared at each other in astonishment, until one of them hastened to the door and invited the populace to draw the sword in defense of their rights. A furious multitude, with arms in readiness, immediately entered, with the resolution of sacrificing the king and his partisans. But his adherents drew their weapons and placed themselves in a corner of the 1347 apartment (a hall in the monastery of the preaching friars at Saragossa), while all the nobles present, scandalized at this disgraceful outrage, arrested the popular violence. The king soon closed the states, without yielding any further to the demands of the union, and hastened into Catalonia, with the avowed purpose of collecting troops, to reduce the whole body to obedience. That the leaguers did not prevent his departure was owing to the suspicions irresistibly forced on their minds that there was treachery in their camp, and that he had more secret adherents than they had expected. He was followed to Barcelona by the infante Don Jayme, who sickened and died in that city, not without suspicions of poison.

The union of Valencia, nowise discouraged by the ill-success of that of Aragon, immediately invested the fortresses which held for the king, whose troops they defeated before Xativa. The infante Ferdinand, who was now proclaimed lieutenant-general of that province, and head of the confederacy, with a force estimated at 30,000, obtained a second victory over the royalists. Pedro now hastened from Barcelona, to crush in person this formidable rebellion. Hearing of his march, the union of Aragon sent to that of Valencia large reinforcements, of which, though a portion, through a recent attachment to the crown, separated from their companions, near 20,000 joined Ferdinand. That infante was now at the head of near 60,000 men, with whom he purposed to invest Pedro in Murviedro. In vain did the king endeavor to detach him by bribes and promises from the union, by investing him with the lieutenancy of the monarchy, and by recognizing him as heir to the crown, in the event of a failure of male issue by the new queen. While this fruitless negotiation was pending, the inhabitants of Murviedro rose, seized both king and queen, and transferred them to Valencia, as a place of greater security. The popular disposition in that city was not more favorable than in the other: though he was received with much outward respect, and, later, with acceptance. Shouts of “The king forever!” succeeded the deep-breathed curses and savage yells which shortly before arose, and the monarch was triumphantly accompanied to one of the suburbs. Thither the disconcerted chiefs of the league, Ferdinand among the rest, repaired, to yield him his accustomed honors. With well-dissembled courtesy he received the arch-rebel, published an amnesty for all who had taken up arms, and, on leaving the city, conceded to the Valencians the privileges which the union had demanded. In the meantime his partisans 1347-1357 were not inactive in Catalonia: he had soon an army on foot with which two of his generals attacked, defeated, and took Ferdinand. The infante, however, from fear of the king’s vengeance, was conducted into Castile. Pedro himself advanced against Saragossa, the very stronghold of faction. One instance of ill-fortune had damped, as much as success had encouraged, the rebels; they received him with great humility, renounced the privileges of the union, and threw themselves wholly on his mercy. Aragon was now pacified; its union was no more: but Valencia remained in rebellion. Having assembled a formidable army, Jayme marched into that province, and, in a battle near the capital, triumphed over the leaguers. Valencia immediately surrendered at discretion. Thus in a few short months was this vast confederacy dissipated, and by none other than the most ordinary means.

On the termination of these troubled scenes Leonora and one of her sons took refuge in Castile. But misfortunes assailed them there, superior, perhaps, to any which would have befallen them in Aragon. How the infante Juan was murdered at Bilbao, and Leonora herself, in the castle of Castro Xeres, by order of Pedro the Cruel, has been related in the reign of that monarch. Ferdinand, indeed, escaped the vengeance of the tyrant, but, as we shall soon see, a fate no less tragical awaited him. The misunderstanding between the two Pedros commenced in 1356, on the refusal of the Castilian to restore a prize made at sea by one of his Biscayan pirates. The second offense was committed by an admiral of Catalonia, who, under the eyes of the Castilian, captured two Pisan vessels—a power with which the Aragonese were at war—in the port of Santa Maria. On the refusal of his brother-sovereign to make satisfaction for this he levied a heavy contribution on the Catalan inhabitants of Seville, and declared war against Aragon. Hostilities now commenced, with various success and many suspensions. It was the policy of the Aragonese to engage in his service the discontented barons of Castile, especially of Enrique, count of Trastamara, who in the sequel succeeded Pedro the Cruel. In this warfare the count was a useful auxiliary to the Aragonese king; but whenever a truce was made he had reason to complain that his services were no longer remembered, since one of the conditions invariably was that he should be expelled from Aragon. On the other hand, the infante Ferdinand was sometimes leagued with the Castilian. In 1357 Pedro took Tarragona and some other fortresses, 1338-1344 but he lost Alicante and Orihuela. In 1359 his fleet infested the coast of Valencia, harassing Barcelona and Iviça. The same year, however, his generals were defeated by land, and the following witnessed the recovery of Tarragona. Such were invariably the indecisive results of this desultory warfare—results which it would be useless to particularize. In general, the success of the war rested with the Castilian. But those hostilities were soon averted by the Papal legates, and the truce was, from time to time, prolonged, until 1374, when peace was finally arranged between the two monarchs.

The foreign transactions of Pedro were of some importance. In 1338 began his misunderstanding with Don Jayme, king of Majorca, whose dethronement he appears to have meditated from the commencement of his reign. Though, in 1339, Jayme did homage for his kingdom, his destruction was no less resolved; his unpopular rule—unpopular because tyrannical and rapacious—afforded Pedro well-founded hopes of success. The following year Pedro artfully drew up a list of grievances, more imaginary than real, and cited his vassal to appear, within twenty-six days, at Barcelona, to answer them. As the latter disregarded the summons, he was declared contumacious and rebellious, and deprived of the fiefs he held from the Aragonese crown. Through the interference of the pope, Clement VI., however, who was anxious to restore peace between them, Pedro was persuaded to have an interview with Jayme in Barcelona. But the conduct of the former, on this occasion, was marked by equal violence and duplicity. Having invented a plot by which he pretended that his liberty was in danger,—that his person was to be seized and conveyed to Majorca,—he used it as a pretext for forcibly detaining his sister, the wife of Don Jayme. In vain did the latter demand his queen, and complain of the violation of the safe conduct which had been granted him: loudly disclaiming all allegiance to his brother-in-law, he sought his ships, returned to Majorca, and, in the impotence of his passion, declared war against Aragon, thereby sealing his own ruin. In 1343 Don Pedro sailed with a formidable armament, landed in Majorca, and was immediately joined by the islanders. Thus universally deserted, Jayme fled, leaving the three islands in the power of his brother-in-law. In the following year Pedro declared by a solemn decree that the Balearic Isles should forever form an integral portion of the Aragonese crown, and again penetrated 1344-1354 into Roussillon, the whole of which, except the capital, Perpignan, he speedily reduced. The unfortunate Jayme now solicited a safe conduct, and, throwing himself at the victor’s feet, acknowledged his errors, and pathetically implored forgiveness, in consideration both of his kindness and of the family ties which united them. As well might he have knelt to a rock. Though Clement, his unfailing friend, assisted him with money and made earnest appeals to the king of Aragon in his favor, nothing was to be obtained; nor was it without extreme difficulty that he could procure the restoration of his wife Constanza and Jayme, his eldest son; his other children were denied him. In 1349 he sold his lordship of Montpellier for 120,000 crowns in gold to the French king, and with the money raised 3,000 foot and 300 horse, in the wild resolution of reconquering his kingdom. With this small force he embarked, made a descent on the chief island, and marched against the viceroy Gilbert. But every action of this prince was doomed to be as unfortunate as his designs were imprudent. At the commencement of the engagement he was deserted by his mercenaries; he fought desperately with the handful who remained, refused to surrender, and was killed on the spot: his eldest son remained in the power of the victors. The young prince subsequently escaped from prison, procured allies, and more than once harassed the frontiers of Catalonia; but he was never restored to his natural inheritance. He died without issue, but though his sister Isabella, now heiress to the throne, ceded her rights to the duke of Anjou, and though the French prince arrived to enforce them, the Balearic Isles remained united with the Aragonese crown.

To this monarch, as to his predecessors, Sardinia proved a sharp thorn in the crown. In 1340 some of the chief inhabitants concerted with the Pisans and Genoese on the project of subverting the Aragonese sway; but, from his efficacious measures and the vigilance of his viceroy, they were compelled to defer the execution. In 1347, hearing that his attention was wholly occupied by the opposition of the union, they broke out into an open insurrection, defeated the Aragonese troops, and slew the viceroy. Another was sent, who, in 1349, defeated them, and the following year many of the discontented chiefs were gained over to the royal cause. To finish the war, in 1354 Pedro himself passed over to that island and convoked the states at Cagliari, but he found it impossible to assuage the animosities which burned between certain nobles who 1368-1384 were always disposed to take opposite sides: if one declared for Aragon, the other was sure to league with the republic. In 1368 the judge of Arborea, who had for years, in defiance of Pedro, exercised sovereign sway over a considerable portion of the island, attempted to gain the whole, defeated the Aragonese, and circumscribed their dominion to the capital and the few fortresses on the coast. Had not his death intervened this enterprising man would have assuredly attained the sovereignty of the island; but his son and successor, unequal to the task of continuing his great work, was unable to expel the Aragonese. On the tragical death of this son, whose tyranny roused the people to arm and put him to death, the war was conducted with vigor by his sister Leonora until 1386, when a kind of compromise was effected between the Genoese and the king of Aragon. Leonora was confirmed in the extensive dominions left her by her father and brother, and a full amnesty was granted to all political offenders. But this divided sovereignty was but a poor compensation for the blood and treasure which had been expended. The obstinacy of Pedro, in retaining possession of an island which experience had shown would never willingly own his sway, which had already cost him so many successive campaigns, drew on him the frequent remonstrances of his states and the refusal of supplies.

As if one ruinous war for an unattainable object were not sufficient, on the death of Frederic, king of Sicily, in 1377, who had married his daughter Constanza, he claimed that crown, and showed a disposition to arm in defense of his claim. Frederic III. left no male issue; and as, by the will of Frederic I., females were excluded, from the succession, he applied to the pope for its ratification. But Maria, daughter of Frederic, in conformity with the last will of that prince, had ascended the throne, and her right was sanctioned by Gregory. If the new queen, as the pontiff justly observed, was incapacitated by her sex, what became of Pedro’s right, who could claim only as the descendant of the Princess Constanza, daughter of Manfred? Maria was subsequently brought into Aragon and married by her grandfather to the infante Don Martin, another of his grandchildren. He thus hoped that, if he himself could not be recognized as king, the crown would at least remain in his family, and perhaps, at no distant day, be incorporated with that of Aragon. But for the obstinacy of his eldest son and heir, Don Juan, whom he wished to marry with the young princess, but who, 1384-1387 having become a widower in 1384, secretly formed connection with a French princess, the effect of his policy would have been an immediate union of the two crowns. It may, however, be doubted whether such a union was desirable, since, from the distance of the two kingdoms and the contiguity of the island to Naples, it could not long have been perpetuated.

The ambition of Pedro was insatiable; but it was also senseless, as it grasped at impossibilities. Hearing that some citizens of Athens and Patras, who were of Aragonese extraction,—the descendants of the crusaders who had conquered this duchy,—had risen to establish his domination, he sent an armament to their aid, and was ultimately acknowledged. The avidity with which, in 1386, he seized on the city of Tarragona, the government and sovereignty of which had long rested with the archbishops of that see, is affirmed by some historians to have been the cause of his death. He died in January, 1387, after an agitated reign of fifty-one years.

The duplicity of this monarch was only equaled by his violence: of sincerity and justice he was wholly destitute, and in savage barbarity he was scarcely exceeded by his namesake of Castile. With many of the vices and none of the virtues of humanity, he was neither loved nor respected; but, in return, he was feared. It is impossible not to admire his constancy in reverses: he deviated not from his purposes, nor suffered his mind to be depressed, in the most critical periods of his reign,—and few princes were ever placed in circumstances more critical;—yet he almost uniformly gained his end. Justice must also allow that, whatever were his personal vices, he was no enemy to the lowest class of his people.

During the reign of this prince the era of Caesar was abolished, and the Christian adopted for the two chief kingdoms of Spain, in 1350 at Saragossa and in 1383 at Segovia.

In 1387 Juan I. was peaceably acknowledged. His accession was regarded with great apprehension by his stepmother, Sibilla (the late king led four ladies to the altar), who, since 1384, had been his open enemy. The reason of this animosity was here, as in former cases, the eagerness of the king to alienate the crown domains in favor of his new queen and her family, and the indignant opposition of the heir-apparent. Juan caused Queen Sibilla to be tried as a witch, who had enchanted the late king, and several of her kindred and servants as accomplices.

The eagerness which the new king showed to gratify his Queen Violante surprised and offended the Aragonese. As her disposition1387-1395 was gay, she insisted on converting the palace into a theater; balls, concerts, theatrical representations, and the exhibitions of the gaya ciencia succeeded each other without intermission. As the Aragonese themselves were too sober or too dull to excel in such diversions, professors were brought from France, and even schools established for instruction in the idle art. It became not merely the relaxation, but the business of life; the duties of government were neglected or despised, until remonstrances both frequent and loud fell on the royal ear. At first the king resisted this interference with his royal recreations; but when he perceived that his barons were in earnest, that they were even preparing to arm for his moral reformation, he yielded: the fiddlers were dismissed, and with them Doña Carraza Villaragut, of the queen’s ladies, the chief promoter of these follies.

The short reign of this prince was not without its troubles. Having repelled an invasion of the licentious disbanded troops of the south of France, headed by the Count d’Armagnac, he was harassed by the insurrection of those most restless and faithless of subjects, the Sardinians. None of these commotions appear to have occasioned King Juan the least anxiety: he resumed his diversions, that of hunting especially, with as much eagerness as before, leaving the cares of government to his queen. One day, while occupied in this favorite occupation in the forest of Foja, he fell from his horse and was killed on the spot.

On receiving intelligence of this catastrophe Aragon, Catalonia, and Valencia proclaimed Don Martin, brother of the late king, who was then in Sicily, supporting the rights of his son and daughter-in-law, sovereigns of that island. This choice gave great umbrage to Matthieu, Count de Foix, who had married the eldest daughter of Juan, and who contended that the crown belonged to him in her right. He collected troops and penetrated into Catalonia, but he found the inhabitants averse to his pretensions and indignant at his proceedings. The count met with a repulse both there and at Barcelona, but he hoped that arms would be more effectual than arguments, and with a second and more numerous army he invaded Aragon. There he and his countess solemnly assumed the royal title and arms, and reduced several towns, among which was Balbastro, but his rear was so harassed, and such was the 1396-1409 scarcity of provisions that he was soon compelled to retire into Navarre by way of Huesca, Bolca, and Ayerba.

Having pacified Sicily, in appearance at least, and caused his son and daughter-in-law to be acknowledged by the rebels, Martin, who seems to have been in no anxiety about the security of his kingdom, proceeded to Sardinia and Corsica, with the view of restoring tranquillity also in those islands. On landing at Barcelona, in 1397, he declared the Count and Countess de Foix traitors to the state, and their ample domain in Catalonia confiscated. The following year he convoked his prelates, barons, and deputies at Saragossa, and caused his son, the Sicilian king, to be acknowledged his successor; it was also decreed that Sicily and Aragon should forever be united under the same scepter. The Count de Foix was soon afterwards forced to recross the Pyrenees; and his death, without issue, freed the king, if not from a formidable, from a troublesome rival.

No sooner had Martin arrived in Spain than Sardinia again became the theater of civil war. It was fomented by Pope Boniface, who, incensed that the Aragonese had acknowledged the rival pontiff, Benedict, conferred the fiefs of Sardinia and Sicily on the Count de Molineto. Fortunately for the king, a papal investiture was not all-powerful. He speedily caused reinforcements to be sent to both islands: in the former they could do no more than restrain the open hostilities of the rebels; in the latter they restored tranquillity. In 1408 the Sicilian king, indignant at seeing a portion of his future inheritance wasted, sent a body of troops to oppose the chief rebel; and the following year, accompanied by a greater, he himself passed into that island. Having also received a powerful aid from his father, he marched against the head of the rebels, Brancaleon Doria, who, with 18,000 infantry, did not refuse the battle. It ended in a complete triumph for the king, and was followed by the surrender of an important fortress. As the heat of the weather began to be intensely felt, the victor returned to Cagliari. That heat and the festivities consequent on his success threw him into a fever, which, though not in itself fatal, he is said to have rendered so by incontinence. He died on the 24th of July, 1409, leaving his queen, Blanche of Navarre, as regent.

On the death of this prince, Martin and the Aragonese were anxious to name a successor to the crown. The fierce rivalry of candidates and the factions which began to agitate the kingdom so 1410-1412 disgusted Martin that to disappoint them all, though advanced in years, he married Margarita, daughter of the Count de Prades, and a princess of the royal house of Aragon. He next sent troops to pacify Sardinia and Sicily, which were again torn by rival dissensions. In the former his generals were successful in two decisive engagements; in the latter he caused the regency to be confirmed in the widowed queen, Blanche. In 1410 he died without issue, and before the settlement of the disputes concerning the succession.

The death of Martin was followed by troubles greater than any which had yet afflicted the kingdom. In Aragon, three or four of the most powerful enemies, whose dissensions had for some time disturbed the public tranquillity, openly paraded their armed partisans, declared for different candidates, and made war on each other. To end these violent scenes had long been the aim of the wise and good among all parties; but the number of such is always small, and, during the tempest of civil strife, their voice is seldom heard. The expedient proposed was that the right of choosing the monarch should be intrusted to nine arbitrators—three from each of the kingdoms. The choice of the arbitrators was one which would have been attended with interminable difficulties had it been left to the deputies of the three states. But confiding in their power, the assembly of Alcañiz, which consisted chiefly of Aragonese, and the parliament of Tortosa, which was formed of Catalonians, agreed that these arbitrators should be nominated by the viceroy and the grand justiciary of Aragon. Accordingly, these two functionaries named three for each of the states, all eminent legalists, all men of unblamable lives, and of whom all would have been unexceptionable had they been less illegitimately chosen. As two-thirds of the number were known to be friendly to the claims of the infante Ferdinand, the result might easily have been anticipated. Having assembled at Caspe, six of the number decided for Ferdinand—the three Aragonese, two Valencians, and one Catalonian: two only voted for the Count de Urgel, and one refused to give his suffrage. Their opinions were approved by the parliaments of Aragon and Catalonia, and were not very much disapproved by those of Valencia. Thus when, on the 28th of June, the important decision was made known to the public in the church of Caspe, the partial murmurs which were raised by the partisans of the Count of Urgel were drowned in the loud applause of the multitude.

However illegal the construction of this celebrated and novel 1412-1416 tribunal, no fault can be found with the decision. Ferdinand was beyond all comparison the best fitted of the candidates for the vacant dignity.

The arrival of Ferdinand I.—of a prince whose administration had been distinguished alike for its internal wisdom and its triumph over the Mohammedans—increased the number of his adherents, or rather disarmed all his opponents, except a small band, which still adhered to the Count de Urgel, until that chief, perceiving the danger of resistance, reluctantly submitted. He was acknowledged, not only by the three Spanish states, but by Sicily, in the regency of which he confirmed Queen Blanche, and by that portion of Sardinia which still owned the supremacy of Aragon. The following year the Viscount de Narbonne surrendered his rights over the latter island for a certain sum,—a sum very ill applied.

But the Count de Urgel had no intention of acknowledging the new sovereign, though that sovereign proposed to indemnify him in his recent losses, and even to marry the infante Enrique, son of Ferdinand, with his daughter. The count, however, who had received a reinforcement from his hereditary domains, marched on Lerida; but some of his troops were defeated, others fell from him, and he was invested in Balaguer. The place was so vigorously pressed that in the end he left it and surrendered himself to the king’s mercy. He was consigned to the castle of Lerida, whence he was afterwards transferred to a fortress in Castile. By the assembled states he was declared a traitor and a rebel, deprived of his domains, and sentenced to perpetual imprisonment. He never recovered his liberty.

Ferdinand, like his predecessors, cast a longing eye on Naples as well as Sicily. Knowing that Jane, who had succeeded to that throne on the death of her brother Ladislas, was inclined to a union with his family, he made overtures to her in favor of his second son, Juan; they were accepted, the marriage conditions arranged, and the infante embarked for Sicily, where he expected to meet his intended bride. On his arrival, however, he found, to his mortification, that the queen,—an extraordinary instance of mutability even in her sex,—had precipitately married with the Count de la Marche, a prince of the house of Bourbon. That the infante bore the disappointment with indifference is probable, as he soon directed his attentions to another quarter, the widowed Blanche, and through her to the crown of Sicily. His subsequent marriage with that 1416-1417 princess and his accession, through her, to the throne of Navarre have been related in the history of that kingdom. In 1416 death surprised Ferdinand at Igualada.

Alfonso V., the eldest son of the deceased king, gave a signal proof of magnanimity or of prudence immediately after his accession. Hearing that Antonio de Luna, then in Guienne, had bribed several nobles of Catalonia and Aragon to espouse the cause of the imprisoned Count de Urgel, whom they proposed to place on the throne, and being presented with a list of the traitors’ names, he not only refused to read it, but tore it into pieces. Nor was his firmness in other matters less remarkable.

The transactions of Alfonso in the islands and on the continent of Italy occupied the greater part of his reign, though they belong rather to the history of the Two Sicilies than to that of Spain; they must not altogether be passed over in silence, since a general notice of them is necessary towards a right understanding of the position, not of Aragon only, but of the Spanish monarchy, during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

Though the investiture of Corsica had been conferred at the same time as that of Sardinia on a preceding king of Aragon, and though some places on the island had at various periods been held by the Aragonese, the conquest of the whole had never been seriously attempted—doubtless because from the contiguity of the Genoese, who considered themselves its lawful sovereigns, and from the never-ceasing rebellions of the Sardinians, that attempt would have appeared hopeless. In 1417, however, some Catalans having come into collision with the forces of the republic, Don Alfonso meditated the conquest. But though he reduced Calvi, after some fruitless assaults on Bonifaccio, which the Genoese relieved, he was forced to abandon the siege under the pretext of more pressing interests. The pretext, indeed, was not without foundation. As usual, the troubles of Sardinia were renewed, occasioned by the Genoese and by the partisans of the viscount de Narbonne, who complained that neither Alfonso nor Ferdinand had fulfilled the conditions of the sale. While here, occupied, as his predecessors had vainly been, in striving to restore tranquillity, he was surprised by the solicitations for aid from Joan, queen of Naples, who, as related in the previous reign, had deceived his brother Juan by marrying the Count de la Marche. That fickle princess, disgusted alike with her husband and his nation, had expelled the French from her 1417-1430 dominions, and the count himself, apprehensive that his life was in danger, had fled. The constable Sforza, jealous of the influence possessed by the minister, Caraccioli, had offered the kingdom to the Duc d’Anjou, provided the latter would appear with a sufficient French force. The alarmed queen proposed to Alfonso to adopt him as her heir (she was without issue), on the condition of his preserving her on the throne.

In the meantime the Duc d’Anjou had sailed from Genoa with an armament, invested Naples, and ordered his fleet to defend the entrance into the port against the expected measures of the Aragonese. But on the approach of Alfonso’s admiral the duke raised the siege and retired into the mountains. The king himself now hastened to that capital, and was received by the queen with extraordinary honors: his adoption was celebrated by the Neapolitan nobility, and he was put in immediate possession of the duchy of Calabria. But however successful his arms, he had soon reason to find how just had been the representations of his advisers. The fickle queen began to regard his authority with jealousy, and even to show a disposition to renew her alliance with France: perhaps she also distrusted his ulterior intentions; at least she made them the pretext for her subsequent conduct. The queen retired to Nola, revoked the adoption, and applied for aid to the French, the Pope, the Genoese, and the duke of Milan, who promised to raise forces in her behalf. Alfonso now returned to Spain, to procure the liberation of his brother Enrique, who had long been detained prisoner by Juan II. of Castile. Another brother, the infante Pedro, he left in the command of the city and fleet; yet he sailed with a force sufficient to take and pillage Marseilles, a portion of which he consumed by fire.

Having procured his brother’s liberation, made peace with the Castilian king, and seen another brother, Juan, the husband of Blanche, raised to the throne of Navarre, Alfonso again turned his attention to the affairs of Naples. It was almost too late, as that city and many other places held by the Aragonese in the Neapolitan kingdom were recovered immediately after his departure by the allies of the queen. But new dissensions with Castile, and, perhaps, the refusal of his states to furnish him with the supplies he demanded, prevented him from seriously attempting to regain his lost dominion. In 1430, however, hearing that the Neapolitan queen, with something more than the characteristic fickleness of 1432-1435 her sex, had quarreled with and expelled the Duc d’Anjou,—who in revenge was committing hostilities in Apulia and the Calabrias,—and being solicited by some Neapolitans to appear personally in the kingdom, he again prepared for the expedition. In 1432 he set sail, leaving the regency of Catalonia to his queen, that of Aragon and Valencia to his brother, the king of Navarre. After a successful attack on the isle of Gerbes, where he defeated the king of Tunis, the piracies of whose subjects had long afflicted his coasts, he proceeded to Sicily. But though the queen actually fulfilled the proposal, he could place no dependence upon her, and his embarrassment as to what he should do was increased by the hostility of the new pope, Eugenius III., of the Emperor Sigismund, of the duke of Milan, of the Venetians, Genoese, and Florentines, of whom all were at this time in the interests of France. He resolved to wait in his kingdom of Sicily the course of events. In 1434 the Duc d’Anjou died, but this event availed him little with the faithless queen, who adopted René, brother of the duke, as her successor to the throne. The following year, when she also paid the debt of nature, Alfonso passed over to the Italian continent with the determination of seizing the kingdom. On the other hand, the pope claimed it as a fief of the Roman see, and promised the investiture to René, now Duc d’Anjou. Disembarking at Gaeta, which was garrisoned by the troops of the Genoese republic and of the duke of Milan, Alfonso pressed the siege with great vigor. A fleet approached to relieve the place, and a maritime engagement followed, in which he was not only signally defeated, but he, his brother Juan of Navarre, and his brother Enrique, so famous in the Castilian troubles, were taken prisoners. All three and a considerable number of barons were conducted to the city of Milan. The generosity with which he was treated by that prince, who considered him not as a captive but as a guest, is deserving of the highest admiration.

No sooner was the captivity of Alfonso known than the queen convoked the states to deliberate on the means of procuring his enlargement. But the arrival of his brother, the king of Navarre, the intelligence which followed of his own liberation and that of his nobles, without ransom, and of the league, offensive and defensive, between the two princes, dispelled the anxiety of the queen and nation. Instead of relinquishing his designs on Naples, this new alliance furnished him with means for their execution. 1435-1458 The infante Don Pedro, who remained in Sicily, in compliance with the royal orders, besieged, and, partly by surprise, gained possession of Gaeta. The states of Aragon, Valencia, and Catalonia voted large supplies for the war: with these Alfonso resumed hostilities, and soon made several conquests. The thunders of the church passed harmless over his head, and he prosecuted his successes to the gates of the capital. The operations of the siege were frequently rendered inefficient, not by the valor of the besieged so much as by the diversions of the French prince, but in the end a party of Aragonese, being introduced by night into the city, seized one of the towers, and the following day the place was carried by storm, the duke escaping on board a Genoese frigate. A victory over the generals of the republic and of the pope followed, and this constrained the submission of all Calabria and Apulia. Both popes, Eugenius IV. and Felix V., were now willing to grant him the investiture of the Two Sicilies, on the condition of his recognizing each exclusive of the other. He accepted the offer of the former, consented to hold the kingdom, not by right of conquest, but as a fief of the Holy See, and engaged to serve his liege lord in the recovery of the march of Ancona. In return, Eugenius promised to declare legitimate his bastard son Ferdinand, whom he designed as his successor on the throne of Naples.

As a return for the papal favor,—for the investiture of the kingdom and declaration of the legitimacy of his son,—Alfonso, during the following years, served the Holy See in the various wars which that power waged with its neighbors. During his long absence his states were governed by his brother of Navarre and his queen,—by the former, whose constant aim was to humble the king of Castile, with little benefit to the realm. His conquests, which their blood and treasure had assisted him to procure, were not to be united with his Spanish dominions, but to be held as a separate kingdom by the bastard Ferdinand, whom he had made duke of Calabria: if these conquests were brilliant, they conferred no solid advantage either on him or his people; nor was it difficult to foresee that they would form a perpetual subject of dispute between his successors on the one part and the pope, the Italian princes, and France on the other.

In 1458 Alfonso was seized at Naples with his mortal sickness. In his last will he left his Spanish dominions, with the Balearic Isles, Sardinia and Sicily, to his brother Juan of Navarre, 1458-1466 and Naples to his son Ferdinand. That he possessed qualities of a high order,—unbending courage, perseverance, capacity of mind, and some virtues,—is admitted by all his biographers; but his neglect of a virtuous queen for an Italian mistress, his boundless ambition, and his tortuous policy greatly detract from the admiration with which posterity must regard him.

Of Juan II. so much has been related in the histories of Castile and Navarre that little remains to be said here. The greater part of his reign was occupied in wars with his Catalonian subjects or Louis XI. of France, who encouraged them in their rebellion. Knowing how much they resented the fate of Don Carlos, and how great a progress the love of republican institutions had made among them, in 1460, the latter, who had an eye on Roussillon and Narbonne, began to urge them to revolt, promising them his constant support. Distrusting the perfidious character of Louis, they sent a deputation to Enrique IV. of Castile, offering to become his liege-men on the condition of his joining them in breaking the chain of their vassalage. Enrique accepted the offer, was proclaimed at Barcelona, and sent a strong body of troops towards the frontiers. The whole principality now flew to arms and besieged the obnoxious queen in Gerona. At this period the Aragonese king was assisted by a strong body of French troops, and by money advanced by Louis, who was put in temporary possession of the lordships of Roussillon and Cerdaña. Though repulsed in the attempt, and soon afterwards defeated by Juan in person, who invested Barcelona, they were but the more confirmed in their resolution of resistance. Not satisfied with heroically defending that city, another division, having effected a junction with the Castilians, again invested Gerona, though without effect. They soon appear to have been dissatisfied with the aid of Enrique; for, in 1463, they invited Don Pedro, infante of Portugal, and descended on the maternal side from the counts de Urgel, to receive the crown of Aragon and Sicily. He accepted the invitation, and placed himself at their head; but, as the king was well supported by the Aragonese and Valencians, victory generally declared for the rightful cause. The war, however, was desultory enough to continue for some years, even after the natural death of Pedro in 1466. Their next chief was the Duc de Lorraine, son of the Duc d’Anjou, to whom they also offered the crown. Juan was not daunted at the menacing preparations of the duke and in the obscure hostilities perpetually 1468-1473 recurring he was greatly aided by his Amazonian queen, who had been nursed in civil dissensions, and whose delight was in the field.^[21] The infante Ferdinand, too, soon to become the husband of Isabella of Castile, here passed his apprenticeship in arms. In 1468 that prince was declared king of Sicily, and associated with his father in the government of Aragon. In 1470 the duke died, while soliciting reinforcements from France, and thus rid Juan of a formidable and active enemy. Though the Catalans in general were induced to return to their duty, a desperate faction at Barcelona preferred submitting to the king of France. At the siege of Paralada Juan ran imminent risk of his life. Paralada having finally submitted, Barcelona alone remained in rebellion and it was invested by the king. The following year (1472), while this city persisted in its defense, the province of Ampourdan, which the duke of Lorraine had reduced, was recovered by the Aragonese. At length, through the clemency of Juan, who promised to pass an act of oblivion for all offenses and to confirm the inhabitants in the enjoyment of their ancient privileges, the place capitulated, and rebellion was at an end. The year afterwards the people of Perpignan rose against the French garrisons, which they put to the sword, and their example was followed by those of Elne, who were no less disgusted with the troops of Louis.

It was not to be expected that the French king would quietly suffer the loss of these places. His army marched against Perpignan, into which Juan threw himself. The siege was prosecuted with spirit, but the approach from Castile of the infante Ferdinand caused the French to retire. Though the place was invested a second time, the attempt was equally unsuccessful, and Louis, who had other enemies, was compelled to suspend his designs on this province and consent to peace. No sooner were his arms at liberty than he prepared for a renewal of hostilities. To meet the coming storm, Juan applied for aid to his nephew Ferdinand, king of Naples, to whom, in consequence of such aid being readily afforded, he gave the hand of his daughter Joanna. Elne, however, was soon reduced by the overwhelming forces of Louis; Perpignan shared the same fate; and Juan, whose son Ferdinand was too much occupied in the troubles of Castile to assist him, was compelled to consent to a truce; nor could he, during his short remaining reign, recover those places from the enemy.

By this peace Sardinia and Sicily were declared forever united to the crown of Aragon; the latter island was internally tranquil1473-1483 under the administration of his viceroys; the former, on one occasion at least, vindicated its prescriptive right to rebel; but the disaffected were crushed, and the estates of their leaders confiscated to the crown. While Juan was thus harassed by the French, by his disputes with Aragon, and the rebellion in Catalonia, we need not be surprised that his kingdom was frequently in commotion. The turbulent nobles of Aragon and Valencia required a firm hand to restrain them. Don Jayme of Aragon, a prince of the royal house, also collected several bands of outlaws, raised the standard of revolt, and seized on some important fortresses: he was, however, invested in Muela by the viceroy of Valencia, was taken prisoner, conducted to Barcelona, and beheaded.

On the death of Juan in 1479 Ferdinand II. was immediately acknowledged by the three Spanish states. As his transactions with the Mohammedans, the Castilians, Portuguese, and Navarrese have already been related, nothing remains but to advert to such as could not be classed among the events of those kingdoms.

Soon after his accession Ferdinand was naturally anxious to procure the restitution of Roussillon and Cerdaña. But to his pressing embassies on this subject Louis XI. returned evasive answers. His successor, Charles VIII., though eager to preserve a good understanding with the monarch who united all Spain under his scepter, was loath to restore a province the possession of which, in the event of future wars, would be invaluable. But when Ferdinand, indignant at the evasions of Charles, began to arm for the recovery of this frontier, the latter, who meditated the conquest of Naples, and who wished to have no enemies to harass France during his absence, commanded Perpignan and the fortresses of the province to be evacuated by the French troops: they were immediately occupied by those of Aragon.

The severity of Ferdinand, king of Naples, had long been borne with dissatisfaction by the people. Their discontent appeared to the French king an excellent opportunity for vindicating the claims of his family on that country and for gratifying an ambition which was seldom restrained by considerations of justice. He was the more confirmed in his purpose when several Neapolitan nobles, through disgust with their ruler, sought his protection and offered to aid him in gaining possession of so fair a kingdom. There was 1492-1496 another party equally dissatisfied with the tyrant, but not at the outset equally favorable to Charles. These applied to the king of Aragon with the same view as their countrymen had applied to the Gallic monarch; and it was only when the former received their message with some displeasure that they joined his rival. The death of the Neapolitan king and the accession of his son Alfonso, in 1494, produced no change, either on the intentions of Charles or the disaffection of the people: Alfonso was as unpopular as Ferdinand. In alarm at the preparations of the Frenchmen and the suspected hostility of the pope, the new king implored the aid of his Spanish brother and received the assurance he solicited. In the meantime Charles invaded Italy by way of Grenoble and passed through Pavia and Florence direct on Rome. Having forced the pope into his interests, he continued his march towards Naples. Alfonso, terrified at the approaching danger and convinced how much his subjects wished for his overthrow, abdicated in favor of his son Ferdinand, who, he hoped, would be able to rally them round the national standard, and retired to a monastery in Sicily. The hope was vain.

But Ferdinand of Spain was not idle: by his ambassadors at Venice he formed a league with the pope, the republic, the duke of Milan, and the fugitive Frederic for the expulsion of the French from Italy. At this time Don Gonsalo de Cordova, the captain of Ferdinand, who had acquired distinction in the wars of Granada, commenced his brilliant career. The rapidity with which he reduced many of the fortified places and triumphed over the French generals on the field drew the attention of Europe towards this part of Italy. His exploits at the very first campaign procured him the appellation of the Great Captain. The Calabrias were soon entirely forced from the invaders, who were glad to take refuge in the states of the church until the arrival of the expected succor from France. The restored king did not long survive his success: the fatigues of the campaign consigned him, in 1496, to the grave. He was succeeded by his uncle Frederic, son of the first Aragonese king of Naples. To the new monarch Gonsalo continued the same eminent services, and not infrequently the pope made use of his valor in humbling the temporal enemies of the church. The king of France in vain attempted, by way of diversion, to withdraw the attention of Ferdinand from the affairs of Italy, by the powerful armaments which he frequently moved on Roussillon: he found 1498-1504 the Spanish king, as usual, prepared both to defend the frontiers and to secure the crown on the head of Frederic.

But in that relative’s behalf Ferdinand soon ceased to be interested. For his progressive coolness towards that prince, various reasons have been assigned: the chief one has been omitted,—the king’s all-grasping ambition, which sometimes took no counsel from justice. On hearing that Louis XII., the successor of Charles, was preparing to arm for the recovery of Naples, he besought that monarch to desist from the undertaking; and when he found that solicitations were useless, he was unprincipled enough to propose a division of the whole kingdom. Louis eagerly seized upon the proposal, and the royal robbers immediately entered into negotiations for adjusting their respective share of the spoils. At first the city and kingdom of Naples were adjudged to Louis, the two Calabrias and the Abruzzo to Ferdinand: the revenue arising from the pasturage of Apulia was to be divided between them. But a dispute arising, a new division was effected: the latter assigned the two Calabrias and Apulia to the Spanish king, Naples and the Abruzzo to the Frenchman. To preserve harmony in other quarters, Louis agreed at the same time to relinquish his claims over Roussillon and Cerdaña, and Ferdinand over Montpellier. Both sovereigns sent powerful armaments to execute this iniquitous compact.

While the French troops on one side and the great captain on the other were seizing his provinces, it was impossible for Frederic, with a people so disaffected and cowardly as the Neapolitans, to make head against them. As Louis promised to allow him a pension suitable to his rank, he sought an asylum in France. Scarcely were the armies in possession of the country when their leaders began to quarrel about the precise extent of their respective territories. As each longed to seize the portion held by the other, an appeal to arms only could decide their pretensions. A bloody war followed, the details of which may be found in the Italian histories of the period and the more recent work of Sismondi. It exhibits little beyond a continued succession of victories for the great captain, who triumphed over the veteran general and armies of France; it ended, in 1504, in the entire subjugation of the kingdom by the Spaniards.

Into the interminable affairs of Italy, from this time to the death of Ferdinand, the ever varying alliances between the pope, the emperor, the Venetians, and the kings of France and Spain, and 1510 their results, as they had not any influence over Spain—scarcely, indeed, any connection with it—we forbear to enter. We need only observe that Spain retained uninterrupted possession of her conquest, the investiture of which, in 1510, was conferred by the pope, as a fief of the church, on Ferdinand.

During the reign of this prince the inquisition was introduced into Aragon. This introduction was strongly but ineffectually opposed by both the Valencians and the Aragonese—by none more bitterly than the inhabitants of Saragossa.

Chapter XIII

ESTABLISHMENT OF PORTUGUESE KINGDOM. 1095-1516

During the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries most of northern Portugal was subject to local governors dependent on the counts of Galicia. But though the chief fortresses in the provinces Entre Minho e Douro and Tras os Montes, and generally those of Beira, were frequently in possession of the Christians, the Mohammedans sometimes seized and occupied such as lay contiguous to their own, until expelled by a superior force. Thus Coimbra, Viseu and Lamego, which had been reduced by Alfonso I. and his immediate successors, were recovered in 997 by the great Almansor: in 1027 King Alfonso V. of Leon fell before the second of these places, the siege of which was in consequence abandoned; but in 1057 both it and Lamego were recovered by his son-in-law, Ferdinand I., and the following year Coimbra shared the same fate. In 1093 Santarem, Lisbon, and Cintra were reduced by Alfonso VI., the famous conqueror of Toledo, whose arms were generally so successful against the misbelievers. As these conquests were continually exposed to the irruptions of the Almoravides, in 1095 that monarch conferred the government of Portugal from the Minho to the Tagus, and the right of conquering as far as the Guadiana, on Henri of Besançon, who in 1072 had married his illegitimate daughter Teresa, and to whose arms he had been so much indebted for many of his recent successes.

The nature of the authority conferred on the new count has been a matter of much controversy between the Castilian and Portuguese writers. While the latter maintain that the concession of Alfonso was full and entire,—a surrender of all feudal claims over the country which the count was to govern in full sovereignty,—the former no less zealously contend that the government was to be held as a fief, hereditary indeed, but no less dependent on the crown of Leon. It is unreasonable to suppose either that the king was willing, or, if willing, that his nobles would 1095-1137 allow him to dismember at once and forever so fair a territory from his crown, and that too in favor of a stranger and an illegitimate daughter—for illegitimate she was, notwithstanding the allegations to the contrary by some Portuguese writers, who seldom regard truth if unpalatable to their national vanity. That Portugal was conferred as a dependent fief is also confirmed by the disputes between its early sovereigns and those of Leon, the former striving to maintain their avowed independence, the latter to reduce them to their reputed original vassalage.

The administration of Henri was vigorous and his military conduct glorious. His triumphs over the Mohammedans were frequent, whether achieved in concert with his father-in-law, Alfonso or by his own unaided arm; several of the reguli in the fortresses south and east of the Tagus he reduced to the condition of tributaries. In 1107 he constrained Ali ben Yussef, son of the first emperor of the Almoravides, to raise the siege of Coimbra. Nor were his efforts to crush rebellion, whether of his local Christian governors or of his Mohammedan vassals, less successful. One of his last acts was to assist his natural sovereign, Urraca, against her husband the king of Aragon. He died in 1112, leaving many ecclesiastic structures enriched by his liberality.

During the minority of Alfonso, the son of Henri, who at his father’s death was only in his second year, the administration of the kingdom was assumed by the widowed Teresa. The character of this princess is represented as little superior to that of her sister Urraca: the same violence, the same unbridled passions, and the same unnatural jealousy of her son, appear, though in a degree undoubtedly less criminal, to have distinguished her conduct. Yet on that sister and her nephew, the successor of Urraca, she sometimes made war, in the hope of profiting by the dissensions of the period: on every occasion she was repulsed, and was forced to sue for peace. Alfonso, whom she had rigorously endeavored to exclude from all participation in public affairs, undertook to wrest the sovereignty from her hands. He succeeded, and the queen was compelled to surrender the reins of government into the hands of her son, while her favorite or husband fled into Galicia. Teresa survived her fall about two years.

The new count was destined to prove a more formidable enemy to the Mohammedans than even his able father. During the first years of his administration he was at variance with his cousin, 1137-1146 Alfonso VII., whose Galician territories he invaded, and with whose enemy (the king of Navarre) he entered into an alliance. But though, in 1137, he obtained a considerable advantage over a detachment of Alfonso’s army, he was little able to contend with that prince.

In 1139 the count assembled his army at Coimbra, resolved to reduce the fortresses west of the Guadiana, which had before acknowledged the kings of Badajoz, and which were now dependent on the Almoravides. The Mohammedan governor of that important place not only summoned all his brethren of the neighboring provinces to arms, but procured a powerful—we are told a vast—reinforcement from Africa, and advanced towards the plains of Ourique,^[22] where the Christians had penetrated, and where they lay encamped. But Alfonso, who knew the advantages of his position, and who, perhaps, perceived that retreat would be impracticable or fatal, resolved to await the approaching assault. But though Count Alfonso was thus prepared for the strife, he could not disregard its issue without emotion. That in this battle he obtained an imperishable victory over the countless Africans, an incredible number of whom were left dead on the field or destroyed in the pursuit, is indubitable. Whether his assumption of the royal dignity preceded or followed this glorious success has been matter of dispute: it is more reasonable to suppose that, while exulting over the destruction of the enemy, his grateful and enthusiastic people proclaimed him on the field. Notwithstanding the fabulous circumstances with which superstition and imposture have disfigured the relation, the plains of Ourique will be venerated so long as patriotism and valor are held in esteem among men.

Alfonso I., of the house of Burgundy, after his elevation to the dignity which he had long sought, and of which he had shown himself so deserving, was not likely to relax in his hostilities against the Moors. Though Santarem had, with other places, been reduced by Alfonso VI., it must, in the sequel, have been recovered by the Almoravides, as, in 1146, we find the Portuguese king intent on regaining it. As the fortifications were strong and the defenders numerous, he caused a small but resolute band to scale the walls by night: scarcely had twenty-five reached the summit of the wall, when the Moorish inhabitants took the alarm and flew to arms. 1146-1167 In vain; one of the gates was opened by the Christians, and the rest of the assailants rushed in. In an hour this important fortress, one of the great bulwarks of Christian Lusitania, was in possession of the victor.^[23] His success, and the embarrassment of the Mohammedan princes of Spain, both on account of the rising power of the Almohades in Africa, and of the hostilities of the kings of Leon and Castile, emboldened him to attempt the recovery of Lisbon. That city was invested; but the valor of the defenders and the strength of the walls would doubtless have compelled him to raise the siege, had not a succor arrived which no man could have expected. This was a fleet of crusaders, chiefly of English, under the command of William Longsword, who was hastening to the Holy Land. The Portuguese king had little difficulty in persuading them that the cross had no greater enemies than the Mohammedans of Spain, and that the recovery of Lisbon would be no less acceptable to Heaven than that of the Syrian towns: the hope of plunder did the rest; the crusaders disembarked and joined in the assault. Five months later the city was carried by storm; a prodigious number of the Moors were put to the sword; the crusaders were too much enriched to dream of continuing their voyage; so that, with the exception of a few who received lands in Portugal, the remainder returned to their own country.

But the Mohammedans had still possession of one-half of Portugal and of several strong fortresses. Having reduced Cintra, Alfonso passed the Tagus and seized on several fortified places in Estremadura, and even in Alemtejo. It was not, however, until 1158 that he seriously attempted the reduction of Alcaçar do Sal, which fell, after a vigorous resistance of two months. In 1165 Cesimbra and Palmela were invested: the former place was speedily taken; while, before the latter, he had to encounter a strong force sent to relieve it by the Moorish governor of Badajoz. The misbelievers were defeated, and many places made to surrender.

The martial character of the Portuguese king, as well as the 1167-1181 almost uninterrupted success of his arms, inclined him to perpetual war—whether with Moors or Christians appears to have given him little concern. In 1167 he seized on Limia, a territory of Galicia, which he claimed on the ground of its having formed part of his mother’s dowry. The following year he advanced against Badajoz, the Moorish governor of which was a vassal of the king of Leon. Ferdinand II. hastened to its relief; but before his arrival the Portuguese standard floated on the towers. Nevertheless the restless Mohammedans resumed their incursions into his territories. Though these incursions were repressed by the valor of his son, Dom Sancho, who, not content with defending Portugal, penetrated into the Moorish territory, to the very outskirts of Seville, his people could not fail to suffer from the ravages of the misbelievers. This irruption, too, had its ill effect; it so much incensed Yussef abu Yacub, the emperor of the Almohades, that he dispatched a considerable force into the kingdom. The discomfiture of this army under the walls of Abrantes, and the exploits of Dom Fuas Roupinho, one of Sancho’s captains, preserved the country indeed from the yoke of the stranger, but not from the devastation: Alemtejo, above all, suffered in this vindictive warfare.

This Dom Fuas is too celebrated in Portuguese history to be dismissed without a passing notice. Being intrusted with the defense of Porto de Mos, a fortress which was furiously assailed by a numerous body of the Andalusians and Almohades, he left a sufficient garrison in the place, while with the rest he proceeded to the neighboring forts to demand succor. On his return he halted on the sierra which overlooked the fortress, and exulted greatly to see with what valor his soldiers were repelling an assault of the enemy. Those who were with him, in the fear that their comrades might in the end give way, thought this a favorable opportunity for attacking the misbelievers in flank; but he restrained their ardor, in the certainty that the place would continue to hold out. At nightfall, however, when the fatigued Moors had retired to their tents, he told his Christian companions that now was the time to discomfit an enemy whom God had put into their hands. They descended the hill, fell on the sleeping Moors, whom they slaughtered with impunity; a few only are said to have escaped. His valor rendered him so agreeable to King Alfonso, that he was placed over a squadron destined to avenge the piratical descents of the misbelievers on the western coast of the kingdom, especially 1181-1211 in the neighborhood of Setubal and Lisbon. With equal success did he triumph on this new element; for, not satisfied with destroying the hostile fleet, he even assailed the Barbary coast.

The successive defeat of his best troops made Yussef resolve to pass over into Spain and take the field in person. His death, before Santarem, has been related in the history of the Mohammedan peninsula. This was the last occasion on which the Lusitanian king put on his armor. He died at the close of the year 1185. His memory is held by the Portuguese in the highest veneration, and hints are not obscurely given that he merited canonization.

Sancho I., the eldest surviving son of Alfonso, had soon to sustain the denunciation of the pope for marrying his daughter Teresa to her cousin, Alfonso IX., king of Leon. As the royal pair, notwithstanding the expressed command of the pontiff, continued to live together, the latter laid an interdict on both the kingdoms of Leon and Portugal. The complaints of both people were loud and general. Indeed, the affliction seemed to bear most heavily on them, and Sancho’s hostility toward the church rendered him vastly unpopular.

The transactions of Sancho with the Moors were not destined to be so glorious as those of his father. Though, by the aid of some crusaders, whom a tempest forced to take refuge in the port of Lisbon, he took Silves in Algarve; and though, in 1190, he defended that fortress with success against the power of the African emperor; yet when that emperor arrived in person (possibly the expedition into Portugal might be headed by the son of Yacub ben Yussef), the tide of Lusitanian conquest began to ebb. Silves, Almeida, Palmela, and Alcaçar do Sal, Coimbra, Cesimbra, and many other towns were taken; many more were leveled with the ground; nowhere durst the Portuguese attempt to arrest the destructive torrent; and though the Mohammedans at length retired to humble the Christians on the plains of Alarcos, a generation was scarcely sufficient to repair the mischiefs they had done. Famine and pestilence next visited the people, who, in their blindness, attributed their misfortunes to the incestuous marriage of their infanta with the Leonese king. Their complaints effected what the pope had attempted in vain—the separation of the royal pair. It was followed by a misunderstanding between Sancho and Alfonso, which the common danger of Christian Spain, and the earnest remonstrances of the church, could scarcely prevent from exploding. On the 1211-1217 restoration of outward harmony the Portuguese monarch recovered most of the places which the Africans had reduced; an enterprise in which he was again fortunately assisted by a crusading armament.

The tranquillity which the kingdom continued to enjoy greatly assisted Sancho in his beneficent designs of encouraging population, and of alleviating the distresses of his people. Towards the close of his reign he appears to have again incurred the censure of the church, by encouraging certain marriages within the forbidden degrees,—among others, that of a son with one of his nieces,—and to have shown some violence towards the ecclesiastics who condemned them. His subsequent repentance doubtless occasioned his reconciliation with the offended pontiff. He died in 1211. In his last will he bequeathed great riches to his children, and made his successor, Alfonso, swear to observe his dispositions.

Alfonso II. had no sooner ascended the throne than he showed a disposition to evade the execution of his father’s will. Not only did he refuse to allow his brothers the money which had been bequeathed them, but he insisted on the restitution of the fortresses which belonged to his two sisters, the saints Teresa and Sancha; and on their refusal to surrender them he seized them by force. In the sequel, Alfonso of Portugal, at the command of the pope and doubtless through fear of the Leonese, consented to treat with his sisters. By the papal commissioners it was agreed that the fortresses in dispute should be held for the princesses by the Templars, but subject to the royal jurisdiction; and that, on the demise of the two feudatories, they should revert to the crown.

The transactions of Alfonso with the Mohammedans were not so remarkable as those of his predecessors—a circumstance that must be attributed not to his want of military spirit, but to his excessive corpulency, which rendered the fatigues of the field intolerable. Though he sent a handful of troops to aid in the triumphs of the Navas de Tolosa, he did not take the field in person against the enemies of his faith until 1217, when the arrival in his ports of another crusading armament, which promised to co-operate in his designs, roused him to attempt the reduction of Alcaçar do Sal, a place that still remained in the power of the misbelievers. It held out till the end of September, when a strong Mohammedan army arrived to relieve it. Notwithstanding the disproportion in numbers, the Christians resolved to hazard a general action, especially on receiving a reinforcement from Alfonso of Leon. Alcaçar was 1220-1245 again recovered; and the Mohammedans who had remained in Alemtejo, and were pressing the siege of several fortresses, were compelled to retire.

During the last three years of his reign Alfonso had new disputes with the church. He appears to have borne little respect for the ecclesiastical immunities, some of which were, indeed, inconsistent with the interests of the community. Alfonso insisted on churchmen heading their own vassals in the wars he undertook, and such as refused were compelled to go. The archbishop of Braga, like Becket of the preceding century, remonstrated with the king, and when remonstrances were ineffectual, hurled at the head of his abettors the thunders of the church. In return he was deprived of his revenues, and compelled to consult his present safety by flight. The afflicted people now endeavored to effect a reconciliation between the king and the archbishop: the former promised to make satisfaction and in future to respect the privileges of the church; he was accordingly absolved and the interdict removed, but before he could fulfill his share of the compact he was surprised by death.

Sancho II., having reluctantly promised to respect the immunities of the church, prepared to extend the boundary of his dominions at the expense of the Mohammedans. He recovered the important town of Elvas, which had been regained by the Moors: next Jarumeñha and Serpa yielded to his arms. He appears to have left the enemy no fortified places in Alemtejo: the frontier fortresses of that province, thus rescued from the infidels, he intrusted to the defense of the order of Santiago, who made successful irruptions into Algarve, and triumphed in several partial engagements. Tavira, Faro, and Loulé were reduced by these knights; and when the Moorish governor of Silves attempted to aid his co-religionists, he lost his capital, and immediately afterwards his life. These successes of the Christians will be readily admitted, when we remember that while the fortresses of Algarve were thus won, Ferdinand of Leon and Castile was prosecuting his glorious career in Andalusia, and thereby precluding all hope of aid from the rest of Mohammedan Spain, which was soon to be confined within the narrow limits of Granada.

In his domestic administration Dom Sancho was doomed to be far less fortunate. From his infancy he appears to have been of a weak constitution and of a still weaker mind; but if he was weak, we have no proof that he was vicious, though great disasters 1244-1248 afflicted his kingdom, and the historians of his country have stigmatized his memory. His hostility to the immunities of the clergy appears to have been the first and chief cause of his unpopularity. This, however, would not have led to the events which followed had he not overstepped the line of prudent reform and claimed for the crown prerogatives which the church could not allow to any monarch. At length, both clergy and the people united their murmurs: they perceived that the king was too feeble to repress the daily feuds of his barons, who broke out into open war and committed the greatest excesses. The contempt with which their remonstrances were treated passed the bounds of human endurance, and they applied to Innocent IV., then presiding over a general council at Lyons, to provide a remedy for such evils. The application was readily received by the pontiff, who, in concert with the fathers of the council, issued a decree by which, though the royal title was left to Sancho, the administration was declared to be vested in the infante Alfonso, brother of the king.

No sooner did Alfonso hear of this extraordinary proceeding of the pope and council, than he prepared to vindicate the title which it had conferred upon him. He was then at Boulogne-sur-Mer, the lordship of which belonged to him in right of his wife Matilda. Having sworn before the papal commissioners to administer Portugal with justice, and leaving the government of Boulogne in the hands of his countess, he embarked at that port and safely landed at Lisbon. At first the king intended to oppose the infante; but seeing how generally the deputies owned him,—how all classes, nobles and citizens, prelates and peasants, joined his brother,—he retreated into Spain to solicit the support of his cousin, Ferdinand III. As that saintly monarch was too busy in the Andalusian wars to assist the fugitive king in person, he recommended the interests of his guest to his son Alfonso. The Castilian infante showed no want of zeal in behalf of his relative. He first applied to the pope for the restoration of the royal exile, and when he found the application useless, he collected a considerable army and invaded Portugal. The Castilian infante, however, led back his army, and the deposed monarch, now bereft of all hope, retired to Toledo, where, early in 1248, he ended his days. So long as the latter lived, some of the fortified places in Portugal refused to acknowledge the regent; but on his death without issue,—there is no evidence that he was ever married,—his brother was peaceably acknowledged as his successor.

Alfonso III., on arriving at a height which, a few years before, his ambition could scarcely have reached, was not without apprehensions1248-1262 that the Castilian king or infante might trouble him in his usurpation, and assembled the three estates of his realm to deliberate on the means of defense. Fortunately for his ambition both father and son were absorbed by their Andalusian conquests. To secure, if possible, the good-will of the former, he sent a considerable aid to the Christian camp, which was readily received by the hero. In the meantime he himself resolved to profit by the reverses of the misbelievers and finish the conquest of Algarve. At the head of a sufficient force, he accordingly penetrated into that province, and speedily recovered the places which the Mohammedans had again surprised. In a subsequent expedition, his ardor or avarice led him to encroach on the possessions of Alfonso el Sabio, Ferdinand’s successor. The wali or regulus of Niebla, perceiving that hostilities were directed against him, implored the aid of his liege superior, the king of Leon and Castile. The latter enjoined the Lusitanian not to molest Mohammed. The instruction appears to have been disregarded; for the Castilian army immediately marched against the Portuguese, who were compelled to retreat. The Castilian king did not stop here. On the pretext that Algarve, as chiefly conquered by his subjects, the knights of Santiago, belonged to him, he invaded that province, and quickly reduced its chief fortresses. The Portuguese was glad to sue for an accommodation, and it was at length agreed that he should marry Doña Beatrix de Guzman, a natural daughter of the Castilian, and with her received the sovereignty of Algarve. The marriage was solemnized in 1254, and a few years afterwards Portugal was declared forever free from homage to the Castilian kings.

From the facility with which this matrimonial connection was formed, it would be inferred that the Lusitanian had become a widower. But the Countess Matilda still lived and was anxious to return to her lord. He pleaded that the former marriage remained null; her only defects were her barrenness and her age,—two which, though no canonist would recognize, were sufficient in the mind of so unscrupulous a prince as Alfonso. The lady applied for the restoration of her rights; he refused to recognize them: she sailed for Portugal to plead them in person; but he refused to see her: and when at length she forced her way into his presence he heard, unmoved, her entreaties, her expostulations, and threats; 1262-1279 and witnessed, unmoved, a grief which would have softened the heart of any other man. The queen (for such history must call her) retired to Boulogne, and laid her complaints before the pope and her liege superior, St. Louis. After a patient examination of the case, Alexander IV. expedited a bull by which he declared Matilda the lawful wife of Alfonso and annulled the recent marriage with Doña Beatrix. The king persevered in his lust, as he had already done in his usurpation, even when excommunicated by the pope; and he and his household were interdicted from the offices of the church. In his conduct towards this devoted lady there is something that must strike every reader with indignation. She had married him when poor—when almost an exile from his native court—and had thereby raised him to power and riches: and her unshaken attachment—unshaken even by his sickening ingratitude—proves that though the empire of the passions had ceased, she possessed an uncommon share of woman’s best feeling. Her last act, by which she bequeathed a considerable sum to this faithless deserter, was characteristic enough of her ruling misfortune. On her death, in 1262, his prelates readily obtained from the pope a bull to render legitimate the present marriage and the issue arising from it.

The rest of this prince’s reign was passed in ignoble disputes, either with his prelates, in relation to the ecclesiastical immunities, which he had the wish but not the power to limit, or with his military orders, whose possessions he justly considered too ample. In the latter case, a compromise procured him what he coveted: in the former, the papal thunders were too much for him; and he was forced to express contrition for his sacrilegious deeds. Like all usurpers, Alfonso in the beginning of his reign was lavish of gifts, and still more of promises: when his throne was established by his brother’s death he appeared in his true colors—a rapacious and unprincipled tyrant. His opposition to the injurious privileges of the church arose not from any regard to the interests of his people, but from avarice, or the lust of power. He died in 1279.

Dinis, like his deceased father and most of his predecessors, was embroiled with the church. He showed little disposition to observe the concessions of the late king; and, as usual, his punishment was excommunication and the imposition of an interdict. Finding by the experience of preceding kings that the church, however protracted his resistance, must eventually triumph, he wisely 1280-1324 endeavored to obtain conditions as the price of his voluntary submission.

In the troubles which afflicted Castile during the reigns of Sancho IV. and Ferdinando IV., Dom Dinis took a part—sometimes by granting asylum to the rebels, sometimes by arming in their cause and making hostile irruptions into the neighboring kingdom. At length, through the marriage of his daughter Constanza with the youthful Ferdinand, he became the friend of the Castilian government.

As if Heaven had decreed that the guilty conduct of Dinis in fomenting rebellion among his neighbors should be visited on his own head, in 1299 one of his brothers openly rebelled. Though this ill-planned disturbance was soon quelled, and was followed by some years of internal tranquillity, new troubles arose in his son and heir Alfonso. The king had a natural son, Alfonso Henriques, who appears to have possessed an undue share of his affections and on whom he lavished the chief favors of the crown. The heir loudly exclaimed against this evident partiality as unjust towards himself, and even asserted that it was the design of the king to procure the legitimacy of the bastard and exclude him from the throne. That such a design was ever formed is exceedingly improbable: it was indignantly disavowed by the father, who solicited the pope to interfere and deter the partisans of the prince from resorting to arms. But though the pontiff called on the Portuguese to set aside Alfonso from the succession if he persisted in his undutiful course, the menace had no effect on the latter. This state of hostilities, with actual encounters of their two armies, continued for years in spite of the prayers and remonstrances of the queen-mother Isabel. At length she persuaded both to suspend their differences. Alfonso retired to Santarem, where he passed some months in his usual manner, without regard to the sufferings of the people, caused by the rapacity and violence of his creatures. That place had always been a favorite residence of the king. In 1324 he paid it a visit, after acquainting his son with his intentions, and protesting that he did not mean to incommode anyone during his short stay. But he was accompanied by his illegitimate son, whom he had not only recalled to court, but restored to a high office in the household. As usual, the jealousy of the prince vented itself in murmurs: the king retorted, and a quarrel ensued, in which the attendants of both took a part and in which blood was shed. As 1324-1327 the party of Alfonso increased the king was at length constrained again to dismiss the obnoxious bastard, to depose the justiciary of the kingdom—a person peculiarly hateful to the prince—and to accord the latter a considerable addition to his revenues.

Dom Dinis did not long survive this reconciliation with his undutiful son. On his return to Lisbon he sickened and remained in that state till his death. It is some consolation to find that, before his departure, he solicited and obtained a visit from Alfonso; and that both met with sentiments not merely of mutual forgiveness, but of affection. Dinis was a superior prince: with great zeal in the administration of justice he combined a liberality truly royal, and a capacity of mind truly comprehensive. In 1284 he laid in Lisbon the foundation of a university; but in 1308, finding that the students were more addicted to the pleasures of a capital than to the fatigues of science, he obtained the pope’s permission to transfer it to Coimbra.

Alfonso IV., surnamed the Brave, had scarcely grasped the reins of sovereignty when he exhibited, in a manner little becoming royalty, his vindictive feelings towards his illegitimate brother, Alfonso Henriques, who, to escape his wrath, had just fled into Castile. That brother, by a sentence of the new king, was deprived of his honors and lordship of Albuquerque, which he had held through his marriage with an heiress of that house, and was in addition condemned to perpetual exile. His first step was to write a supplicatory letter to Alfonso, whose anger, by ardent and probably sincere protestations of allegiance and duty, he hoped to disarm; but when he found that these were despised, he resorted to arms. Having collected some troops in Castile, and been joined by a prince of that kingdom, he entered Portugal, laid waste the frontiers, put to the sword every living being that fell in his way, and defeated the grand master of Avis, who attempted to arrest his progress. The king now took the field in person, demolished Albuquerque, and laid waste the neighboring territories of Castile. These harassing though indecisive hostilities might have continued for years had not Santa Isabel left her retreat in the convent of St. Clair, which she had founded, and prevailed on her son to permit the return of the exile.

The first twelve years of Alfonso’s reign were distracted by hostilities with his namesake of Castile, who, as before related, was the husband of his daughter. Though these hostilities were chiefly 1327-1339 owing to the perversity of the infante Juan Manuel, it cannot be denied that the Portuguese king had abundant reason for dissatisfaction with his son-in-law. The usage experienced by the Castilian queen at the hands of her husband, her mortification at seeing a mistress, Leonora de Guzman, not only preferred to herself, but the sole depository of the royal favor, the studied insults to which she was daily exposed both from her husband and his minion, at length exhausted her patience, and drew forth some complaints to her father. The influence, too, which don Juan Manuel obtained in the Portuguese court through the marriage of his repudiated daughter Constanza with Pedro, son and heir of the Lusitanian king, was uniformly exerted to embroil the two crowns. The most unjustifiable and least politic act of the Castilian was his detaining the princess Constanza in his kingdom and consequently preventing her from joining her husband. To the indignant remonstrances of the Lusitanian, he returned answers studiously evasive—anxious to avert hostilities, yet no less resolved to persevere in detaining the princess. Alfonso of Portugal now sent a herald at arms to defy his son-in-law, on the ground, both of the unjust treatment of the queen, whom her husband was suspected of seeking to repudiate, and of the continued detention of Constanza. His next step was to enter Castile, to invest Badajoz, and ravage the country as far as the vicinity of Seville. But on that almost impregnable fortress he could make little impression, and he reluctantly raised the siege. The war was now as destructive as it was indecisive and even inglorious: it was one of mutual ravage, of shameless rapine, and unblushing cruelty. At length, through the efforts of the common father of Christendom, the two princes agreed to a truce and to the opening of negotiations for peace. But one of the conditions was the removal of Leonora de Guzman; a condition which Alfonso of Castile, who was entirely governed by that lady, was in no disposition to execute. Hostilities would probably have continued during the whole of his reign, had not the preparations of the Mohammedans, which he knew were chiefly directed against himself, and the loud complaints of his own subjects, forced him reluctantly to promise that it should be conceded. Negotiations were re-opened, and with a much fairer prospect of success. To the departure of Constanza, the restitution of some insignificant fortresses which had been reduced, and even to the return of his queen, the Castilian felt no repugnance; but though he consented for 1340-1354 Leonora to leave the court, he recalled her immediately after the conclusion of peace. To his queen, however, he no longer exhibited a marked neglect: on the contrary, he treated her with all the outward respect due to her character and station; and the good understanding was confirmed by her admirable moderation.

In the wars which the Castilians had to sustain against the Mohammedans, the Portuguese—so nobly did he forget his wrongs when the interests of Christendom were at stake—was no inefficient ally. Finding that his first aid of 300 lances was inadequate to the formidable preparations of the African and Spanish Moors, he himself hastened to the headquarters of his son-in-law. As he approached Seville, the joy caused by his arrival was such that the clergy met him in procession singing, “Beatus qui venit nomine Domini!”^[24] He was present at the great battle on the banks of the Salado in which the barbaric power was so signally humbled. Though he had nobly borne his part in the triumphs of the day, he refused to have any other share in the immense plunder won on that occasion than the standard and some trifling personal effects of Abul Hassan. And if after this splendid victory he returned to his own dominions, he did not cease to send reinforcements to his ally. This aid he continued readily to supply, until the death of Alfonso by the plague, before Gibraltar, in 1350.

The tragedies represented in Castile by Pedro the Cruel, successor of Alfonso XI., were fully equalled by one in Portugal. Soon after his marriage with Constanza, daughter of Don Juan Manuel, Pedro, the infante of Portugal, had become passionately smitten with one of her attendants, Doña Iñes de Castro, a lady of surpassing beauty, and frail as beautiful. That he made love to her, and that his criminal suit was favorably received, is indubitable, both from the deep grief which preyed on the spirits of Constanza, and from the anxiety of the king lest this new favorite should be the cause of the same disturbances in Portugal as Leonora de Guzman had occasioned in Castile. After Constanza’s death, which was doubtless hastened by sorrow, he privately married the seductive favorite in January, 1354. It also appears that a papal dispensation was obtained for this ceremony, and that it took place at Braganza in the presence of a Portuguese prelate and his own chamberlain. However secret this step, it was suspected by some courtiers, who, partly through envy at the rising favor of 1354-1355 the Castros, and partly through dread of the consequences which might ensue, endeavored to prevail on the king to interfere in behalf of young Ferdinand, the son of Pedro and Constanza, and the lawful heir to the monarchy. With the view of ascertaining whether a marriage had really been effected, the prince was urged to take a second wife from one of the royal families of Europe; and the manner in which he rejected the proposal confirmed the suspicion. But mere suspicion was not enough. The prince was summoned to court, compelled to a private interview with his father, and urged, in the most pressing terms to declare whether his connection with Doña Iñes was one of matrimony or gallantry. He solemnly and repeatedly replied that she was not his wife, but his mistress; yet, when the entreaty was renewed that he would abandon so guilty an intercourse, he firmly refused. The king now secretly consulted with his confidential advisers as to the precautions he ought to adopt in regard to young Ferdinand, since, from the boundless influence possessed over the mind of Pedro by Doña Iñes, it was feared that the true heir would be set aside from the succession in favor of her offspring. Unfortunately, both for his own fame and for the interests of the kingdom, Alfonso consulted with such only as were personally hostile to the lady: they did not scruple to assure him that unless she were forcibly removed, the state after his death would become a prey to all the horrors of a disputed succession. We are told that his soul revolted at the deed, but that, in the end, they wrung from him a reluctant consent to her death. The time, however, which elapsed from the formation to the execution of this murderous purpose proves that pity was a contending sentiment in his breast. That purpose was not so secret as to escape two friends of Pedro,—his mother, the queen Beatrix, and the archbishop of Braga. Both, in the design of averting the catastrophe, warned him of the plot; but he disregarded the intimation—doubtless because he could not believe that the royal mind of his father could be contaminated by the guilt of murder, and because he considered the warning as a feint to procure his separation from Iñes. After the lapse of some months the king, hearing that his son had departed on a hunting excursion for a few days, hastily left Monte Môr, and proceeded to the convent of St. Clair, at Coimbra, where she then was. On learning his approach, she at once apprehended his object. Her only resource was an appeal to his pity. Taking her three children by the hand, she 1355-1356 issued from the convent to meet him, prostrated herself at his feet, and in the most pathetic terms begged for mercy. Her beauty, her youth, her deep emotion, and the sight of her offspring,—his own grandchildren,—so affected him, that after a struggle between policy and nature, the latter triumphed and he retired. No sooner, however, was he in private with his confidants than they censured his compassion, though natural in itself, as ruinous in its consequences to his family and kingdom. By their artful representations they not only confirmed him in his original purpose, but obtained his consent that they should be entrusted with its immediate execution. Accordingly they hastened to the convent, and the unfortunate, guilty Iñes fell beneath their daggers.

The fate of this lady has called forth the deepest commiseration of novelists and poets, and has given rise to some vigorous effusions of the tragic muse. But her crimes have been carefully thrown into the shade. The woman who could consent to a criminal connection with a married man—the object of an amiable wife’s love;—who by her guilt broke the heart of that excellent princess; who, before the remains of that princess were cold, renewed the criminal intercourse; and who, during so many successive years, was the ready, nay, eager creature of his lust, must, by unbiased posterity, be regarded with anything but respect. Her tragical end must indeed command our sympathy, and cover her assassins with abhorrence; but let not these natural sentiments blind us to her crimes.

When Pedro returned from the chase and found his wife so barbarously murdered, his grief was surpassed, if possible, by his thirst for revenge. He leagued himself with the kindred of Iñes, and though he could not fall on the murderers, who were protected by the king, he laid waste the provinces of Entre Douro e Minho, and Tras os Montes, where their possessions chiefly lay. King Alfonso was in consternation at the unexpected fury of his son. It was probably at his suggestion that the queen, accompanied by several prelates, hastened into Tras os Montes. They represented, but without effect, to the prince the madness of desolating an inheritance which must soon be his: he threatened to continue his hostilities until the murderers were delivered up to him. To such a demand Alfonso could not consent; but in the end he proposed, as the price of reconciliation, that the obnoxious nobles should be banished from the court,—perhaps also from the kingdom,—and his 1356-1360 son admitted to the chief share of the administration. Pedro accepted it, laid down his arms, and proceeded to court, where he was received with an affection truly paternal, and where he engaged, though with a fixed resolution of breaking the engagement, never to seek revenge on the assassins of Doña Iñes.

Alfonso did not long survive this forced reconciliation with his son. His death, which happened at the beginning of 1357, is said to have been hastened by remorse for the tragical deed of which he had been the occasion. He had been a disobedient son, an unjust brother, and a harsh father. The rebellion of his son was but fit retribution for his own conduct to the royal Dinis. During his reign (in 1348) Portugal was afflicted with the plague, which spread throughout most of Europe, but which raged with more violence in that kingdom than anywhere else. Whole towns are said to have been left desolate, and some priests to have abandoned their flocks to the care of the monks.

Pedro I. was scarcely established on the throne before he gave way to his uncontrollable desire for vengeance on the murderers of Doña Iñes. Knowing that they had sought protection in Castile, and how eager his namesake of that country was for the surrender of several Castilians, who, in like manner, had obtained an asylum in Portugal, he seems from the beginning of his reign to have indulged the expectation that a surrender of the individuals obnoxious to each other might be negotiated. He therefore paid court to that monarch, with whom he entered into a close alliance, and to whom he dispatched ten of his galleys to serve in the war against Aragon. Having declared the fugitive nobles, who were three in number, Pedro Coelho, Alvaro Gonsalves, and Diego Lopes Pacheco, traitors to their country, and confiscated all their possessions, he proposed for the arrest of their personal enemies. On a given day the obnoxious Castilians were arrested in Portugal, the Portuguese in Castile, and were surrendered to their respective executioners. Of the three Portuguese, however, Pacheco escaped. The escape of even one victim was gall to the Portuguese king; but he resolved to satiate his rage on the two who were placed in his reach. Both were thrown into a dungeon in the city of Santarem, where the tyrant was then abiding, and were speedily put to the torture, with the view of eliciting whether others were implicated in the same crime, and whether certain secrets had been communicated to them by the late king. They withstood the acute 1360-1367 torments they were made to endure with a firmness truly admirable;—a circumstance that increased the rage of Pedro, who was present at the hellish scene. The latter foamed at the mouth, and ordered his victims to be transferred from the dungeon to a scaffold erected in front of his palace. There he appeared at the window, expressing a savage delight at the new torments they sustained. At length the living hearts of both were plucked from their bodies; hearts and bodies were next consigned to the flames; and when consumed, the ashes were scattered by the winds.

The next proceeding of Pedro was to honor alike the remains and memory of the unfortunate Iñes. He convoked the states of his kingdom at Castanedo, and, in their presence, made oath on the holy gospels that, in the year 1354, he had married that lady. The witnesses of the fact, the bishop of Guarda and his own chamberlain were likewise publicly sworn, and the bull of dispensation produced which Pope John XXII. had granted for the celebration of the ceremony. That the legitimacy of her offspring might never be disputed, copies of the papal dispensation and of the oaths taken on this occasion were multiplied and dispersed throughout the kingdom. The validity of the marriage being thus established, Pedro now proceeded to show due honor to her remains. He ordered two magnificent tombs, both of white marble, to be constructed, one for himself, the other for that lady, and placed them in the monastery of Alcobaça. He then proceeded to the church of St. Clair at Coimbra, caused her corpse to be brought from the sepulcher, to be arrayed in royal ornaments, to be placed on a throne with a crown on the head and scepter in the hand, and there to receive the homage of his assembled courtiers. From the church it was conveyed on a magnificent car, accompanied by nobles and highborn dames, all clad in mourning, to the monastery of Alcobaça. Pedro himself died in 1367, and was buried beside Iñes de Castro.

Ferdinand I., son of Pedro and the Princess Constanza, was ill-fitted to succeed monarchs so vigorous as his immediate predecessors. Fickle, irresolute, inconstant, without discernment, directed by no rule of conduct, obedient only to momentary impulse, addicted to idleness, or to recreations still more censurable, the very benevolence of his nature was a calamity, since it exposed him to the designs of men whose uniform aim was solely their own advantage.

After the death of the Castilian Pedro, Ferdinand, considering 1367-1372 himself the true heir to the crown, assumed the regal title and arms of Castile. His ambition was lamentably inadequate to an enterprise so important as that of encountering and attempting to dethrone the bastard usurper Enrique. After his inglorious flight from Galicia, he seldom took a personal share in the contest; and, from the recesses of his palace, he appeared to witness the invasion of his kingdom and the defeat of his armies with indifference. When, in 1373, Lisbon itself was invested by the Castilian king, the defense of the place was abandoned to the valor of the inhabitants, and to their deep-rooted hatred of the Spanish sway. The same year, indeed, peace was made through the mediation of the pope; but it was often broken by Ferdinand during the reign both of Enrique and Juan I., the son and successor of that prince. The marriage of Beatrix, daughter of Ferdinand, with Juan, in 1362, and the treaty for uniting the two crowns, have been related in the history of Castile.

During these transactions proposals were frequently made for restoring permanent harmony by matrimonial alliances. At first Ferdinand cast his eyes on the infanta Leonora of Aragon, whom he engaged to marry; but, with his usual fickleness, he escaped from the obligation. As the condition of one of his frequent acts of pacification with Castile, he next promised to raise a daughter of Enrique, also named Leonora, to the Portuguese throne. When the time approached for the celebration of this marriage, Ferdinand fell passionately in love with one of his own subjects—a Leonora like the rest. He first saw this lady, on a visit to her sister Doña Maria, who was one of the attendants on his own sister, the infanta Beatrix. To beauty of the first order Leonora added a sprightliness which charmed and a wit which captivated him; but these were far inferior to her ambition, and were unsupported by one single principle of honor or virtue. The king first mentioned his passion to Doña Maria, whose good offices he solicited. She reminded him that her sister was already the wife of Dom Joam Lourenzo da Cunha, lord of Pombeiro. “Of that we are well aware,” replied Ferdinand; “but they are related by blood, and they married without a dispensation: the engagement may easily be annulled.” The proposal was made to Leonora, who readily accepted it; proceedings for the cassation of the marriage were instituted in the ecclesiastical courts; and as the husband offered no opposition to them,—doubtless because he had no wish to contend with a plaintiff whose cause was 1372-1373 backed by legions of soldiers,—it was declared null. Not considering himself safe in Portugal, Dom Lourenzo fled into Castile, evidently little afflicted at the loss of an unprincipled woman. There is reason to believe that it was Ferdinand’s original intention to make her his mistress; but she had too much policy to become the tool of one whom she had resolved to rule; and she assumed the appearance of so much modesty that to gain his object he was forced to marry her. But this marriage was strictly private; a precaution adopted as well to stifle the murmurs of his subjects, as to prevent the indignant remonstrances of Enrique. It was, however, suspected, and the very suspicion produced great dissatisfaction throughout the kingdom—nowhere so great as in the capital. A mob, formidable from its numbers, assembled in the streets, and declaimed against the insult offered to both throne and people by the preference of a humble Portuguese lady to the infantas of Aragon and Castile. Ferdinand listened with forced tranquillity to the rude discourse; and, fearful that the 3,000 mechanics and artisans before him might proceed to some greater outrage, he had the meanness to add a deliberate lie to his glaring imprudence. He said that he had neither married nor intended to marry Leonora. This declaration satisfied the mob, who, however, insisted that he should take an oath the following day to the same effect in the church of San Domingo, a promise which he readily made. At the time appointed, they proceeded to the church, but found to their mortification that, during the night, the king and Leonora had fled to Santarem. In the height of their fury they apostrophized both in no measured terms. The nobles and prelates now hastened to court, to recognize their new queen. All readily kissed her hand, with the exception of Dom Dinis, son of Pedro and Iñes de Castro, who accompanied his refusal in open court with expressions of contempt. Ferdinand drew his poniard and would doubtless have laid his obnoxious brother at his feet, but for the interference of two nobles who arrested his arm. Even Joam, the grand master of Avis, a natural son of the late king, who is about to perform so memorable a part in the national history, bowed before the triumphant Leonora. To render her power more secure, she began to act with great policy. By such measures she certainly disarmed hostility, and secured to herself an undisturbed possession of her new dignity.

The insult to the royal family of Castile involved in this 1373-1382 imprudent marriage was one of the causes which led to the hostilities that followed—hostilities in which the country was laid waste, from Badajoz to Lisbon, and that capital invested. On the conclusion of peace, in 1373, which was cemented by the marriage of a natural daughter of Ferdinand with a natural son of Enrique, tranquillity visited the kingdom for some years; but the Portuguese court, through the ambition and wickedness of the queen, was often distracted and disgraced.

Though on the accession of Juan I. of Castile Ferdinand readily renewed the peace between the two crowns, and consented to marry his daughter Beatrix to the heir of the Castilian, his characteristic fickleness was such that he soon resolved to resume hostilities. To engage the Duke of Lancaster in his cause, he sent a trusty messenger to England, Dom Joam Fernando Andeiro, who concluded a league with the Plantagenet. To conceal this negotiation from the world, especially from the Castilian, he pretended great anger with Andeiro, whom he arrested and confined to the fortress of Estremos. During his agreeable captivity in this place, he was frequently visited by the disguised king, who was sometimes accompanied by the queen, and was made to unfold the conditions he had contracted, and solicited for his advice. Sometimes, too, the queen, at her husband’s command, or her own suggestion, repaired alone to the fortress for the same purpose. Perceiving her vanity, as well of her person as of her talents, and how gratified she was by adulation, Andeiro offered her the accustomed incense. As his person was unexceptionable, his address elegant, and his manners prepossessing, he soon won so far on the credulous Leonora, that she became the willing partner of his lust, and still more of his ambition. In the hostilities which followed the arrival of the Earl of Cambridge, he was released, and, by her influence, was invested with the lordship of Ourem. His wife and children were brought to court; but his intimacy with Leonora so incensed the countess that, though she did not reveal—perhaps because she had not witnessed—the actual guilt of the parties, she did not scruple to assert that there was more than ordinary attachment between them. Whether these reports reached the ears of Ferdinand, or, if they did, whether he believed them, is unknown; but so complete was the ascendancy of Leonora over his feeble mind that, had he been acquainted with the whole extent of her amour, he would probably have trembled to punish her. Her own imprudence soon now increased 1382 the danger of her situation. One day, when Andeiro and another noble entered her apartments, both, through the heat of the weather, covered with dust and perspiration, she asked them if they had no handkerchief. As this was a luxury in that age possessed by few, both replied in the negative. She divided a veil into halves, one of which she gave to each. The Conde Gonsalves received his part with respect, and retired to a corner of the apartment. But Andeiro approached the queen, and addressed to her some compliment of gallantry in phrases familiar enough to show the terms on which they lived with each other. Neither the words, nor the smile which rewarded them, escaped the ears of a lady of honor, the wife of the Baron de Azevedo. This lady was thoughtless enough to disclose the circumstance to her husband, who, with still greater imprudence, one day hinted to the queen his knowledge of her connection with Andeiro. Leonora now trembled for her safety, especially as Azevedo was the friend of Dom Joam, grand master of Avis, who had lately declared himself her enemy, and they might at any time reveal the amour to the king. She vowed the ruin of both. Having forged some letters, which compromised the loyalty of both,—which made both the secret agents of the Castilian king,—she went to Ferdinand, laid them before him, procured an order for their arrest, and saw them securely confined. This was not enough. Grown desperate by her sense of danger, she fabricated a royal order for the immediate execution of the two prisoners, addressed to the governor of the fortress. But the governor knew her character, suspected her purpose, and replied that he could not obey it until the following morning. A second mandate was sent, in terms much more peremptory; but instead of complying, the governor took both orders to the king. Nothing can so clearly show the wretched dependence of Ferdinand on his queen than the fact that, though these audacious instruments completely opened his eyes as to her real character, he dared not attempt to punish her. He merely enjoined the officer to preserve a deep silence on this extraordinary transaction, and to respect the lives of the two prisoners.

Any other than Leonora would have been utterly confounded at this signal exposure of her deeds; but her wickedness was distinguished by a boldness which would have done honor to the most celebrated female adventurer of an Italian court. That she had resolved to poison both in an entertainment given on the occasion, is the opinion of all the national historians; but the destined victims 1383 were on their guard, and escaped. Though the grand master complained of his arrest to Ferdinand himself, he could obtain no clue to the cause. But the latter was now evidently unhappy; he saw that the affections of his queen were estranged from him and transferred to Andeiro. Yet—such was his deplorable weakness!—he met both with constrained smiles, and deputed both to be present at the marriage of his daughter Beatrix with Juan of Castile. On this occasion the favorite appeared with a splendor which might have become a sovereign prince, but which filled the beholders with indignation or envy. The perpetual sight of a faithless wife and her insolent paramour was at length too much even for the feeble Ferdinand. In the agony of his feelings he one day opened his heart to the grand master, who he knew hated Andeiro, and with whom he planned that minion’s assassination. But his own death, the result alike of constitutional weakness of frame and mental suffering, saved him from the guilt of murder.

The reign of this sovereign was one of the most deplorable that ever afflicted Portugal. The wars with Castile,—wars lightly undertaken and ingloriously conducted—and the consequent invasions of his territory by his more powerful neighbors, impoverished his people. Yet there were moments when he was not inattentive to the duties of his station. But these were but the impulse of the moment, and were succeeded by some mischievous freak. Among these was the fatal one of raising by an arbitrary enactment the value of the current coin far beyond its intrinsic worth.

By the death of King Ferdinand, in 1383, his daughter Beatrix, queen of Castile, was the true heir to the throne of Portugal. But the kingdom, far from expecting a foreign yoke, had, on the marriage of the infanta, expressly stipulated that, in case of Ferdinand’s death, the government should be vested in a regent until she had a son capable of assuming the sovereignty; that son, too, to be educated not in Castile but in Portugal. When that event happened she had no child,—a circumstance that induced her husband to claim the crown in her right, and filled the Portuguese with vexation. They were satisfied neither with their intended sovereign, Juan, nor with the regent Leonora, the queen-mother, whom the will of the late king appointed to that dignity. And when, in conformity with the demands of the Castilian, Beatrix was proclaimed in Lisbon, the people either exhibited a mournful silence, or cried out that they would have no other king than their infante 1383 Joam, son of Pedro and Iñes de Castro, and the unfortunate husband of Maria, sister of Leonora, whose tragical fate has been recorded. But Joam and his brother Dinis now languished in the dungeons of Castile, whither they had been consigned by the king, who knew that, if suffered to enter Portugal, they would speedily thwart his views of dominion. Until these princes could be restored to their country, and until Beatrix should have an heir, the Portuguese resolved to deprive the queen-mother of the regency in favor of the grand master of Avis, who alone seemed able to defend their national independence.

Don Joam, as before observed, was an illegitimate son of King Pedro, by a lady of Galicia, and born in 1357. No man could be better adapted for the conjuncture in which circumstances placed him. Cool, yet prompt; prudent, yet in the highest degree courageous; unrestrained by conscience, and ready to act either with cunning or violence, according as either appeared necessary to his purpose, he would indeed have been a formidable opponent to any sovereign, much more to one so weak as the Castilian. Seeing the favorable disposition of the people and confiding in his own mental resources, he commenced a policy which, if at first cautious, was sure to prove efficacious. To have a pretext for the design he meditated, he first solicited the regency from Juan; and having sustained a refusal, he employed his creatures, and all whom hatred to the Castilian yoke rallied round him, to secure its execution. Though Leonora pretended great sorrow for her husband’s death, and endeavored, by affected mildness, as well as by an administration truly liberal, to win the popular favor, her object was penetrated and despised. But a stronger sentiment was felt for Andeiro, who directed her at his pleasure, and whose death was now decreed by the grand master. To remove the latter under some honorable pretext from the court, he was charged by Leonora with the government of Alemtejo: a province that, in the war inevitably impending with the Castilians, would be most exposed to their fury. He accepted the trust with apparent satisfaction; but scarcely had he traveled two leagues on his journey, when, accompanied by twenty-five resolute followers, he returned to Lisbon and hastened to the royal apartments, where he knew he should find Andeiro. The guilty pair were as usual together. To the demand of the queen as to the motive of his unexpected return, he replied that, having received certain information of the formidable armament preparing 1383 by Juan of Castile, he came to request the permission for raising a larger force. This reply appeared to satisfy her, and all animosity seemed so far banished that the favorite invited the grand master to dinner. The latter, who offered some excuse, solicited a few moments’ private conversation with the count, and both passed into another apartment. While engaged in this way, Joam struck the count with a dagger, at the same time a knight of his suite advanced and by a second blow deprived the victim of life. The noise alarmed his domestics, who, instead of avenging his death, escaped along the roof of the palace: it more sensibly affected the queen, who was not only inconsolable for his loss, but apprehensive that the same fate was designed for herself. The tragical deed was hailed with characteristic acclamations by the populace, who, profiting by the example, massacred everyone suspected to be hostile to the pretensions of their new idol, and plundered on every side. Leonora now fled from the city to Alenquer. On the way she turned her eyes for a moment back on the towers of that capital, and, in the bitterness of her heart, prayed that she might live to see it wrapped in flames. After her departure the grand master seemed pensive and melancholy; deplored the calamities of his country; complained that he was unequal to oppose his powerful enemies; and pretended that he would retire into England to pass his remaining days in tranquillity. This hypocritical policy had its effect: it alarmed the mob, who dreaded being abandoned to the justice their recent crimes so well merited, and who tumultuously flocked around him, insisting that he should assume the regency until Beatrix should become the mother of a son destined to rule over them. With much apparent reluctance he accepted the proffered dignity, in the resolution of securing one much higher.

The first measures of the new regent were characteristic of the man. Having selected as the members of his council men as distinguished for knowledge as they were for a courage tempered by prudence, he published an edict in which entire pardon was promised to all criminals, whatever their offenses, who within a short period should rally round his standard, and assist him in opposing the queen and the Spaniards. At this unexpected call, great numbers—amounting, we are told, to thousands—hastened from their prisons or their haunts to swell his army. At first the nobles and prelates, suspicious of his character, and disgusted with his crimes, stood aloof; but, by bribes, by honors, and by the magnitude of his 1384 promises, he weaned many of them, gradually yet surely, from the cause of Leonora. Through the active exertions of his emissaries, many of the great towns were persuaded to follow the example of Lisbon. Amidst these scenes a hermit, who had passed many years of his life on a neighboring mountain and who had been gained by Joam, appeared in Lisbon. His studied simplicity of manner, his sonorous declamation, his apparent zeal, and still more the nature of his subject—obedience to “the powers that be”—procured him a willing audience. He was soon regarded as a prophet, and was persuaded to exercise his imaginary vocation in favor of the regent, to whom he accordingly predicted every success with which heaven could reward its favorites. Undaunted by these predictions, the king of Castile invaded the kingdom, received the submission of several places, and penetrated to Santarem, to concert with his mother-in-law, Leonora, the means of annihilating the resources of Joam. But that ambitious woman, who perceived that with the arrival of the king her authority had ceased, soon regarded his cause with indifference, ultimately with dislike. Her intrigues were planned more frequently to thwart than to aid his measures; so that, aware of her faithless character, he at length surrounded her with spies and reduced her nearly to the condition of a prisoner in her own palace. This was not the way to remove her growing disinclination to his cause; nor was it long before she openly expressed her wishes for the success of the grand master. To show her that she was in his power, to prevent her meditated flight and probable junction with Joam, and to be thenceforth free from her restless intrigues, he caused her to be arrested, to be conducted into Spain, and to be confined in the convent of Tordesillas, near Valladolid.

As allusion has already been made to the chief events of the present war, and as those events are not in themselves of much interest, little more remains to be said of them. Though Lisbon was invested both by sea and land, and in a few months reduced to the greatest distress, it was defended with equal ability and valor by the grand master and his captains, still more by the unconquerable spirit of the inhabitants. In the end, however, the king, whose loss had been severe and who had now to encounter pestilence no less than the armed enemy, precipitately raised the siege. He at first retired to Torres Vedras, where, having issued directions for the preservation of the fortified places which still acknowledged 1385 him, he returned into Castile. His absence was well improved by the grand master, who, with great celerity, obtained possession of several important towns—some by assault, but more through voluntary submission. To end the distractions of the country, the states, early in 1385, were convoked at Coimbra. There the creatures of the regent proposed his proclamation as king as the only measure capable of restoring internal tranquillity and of enabling the nation to withstand the arms of Castile. They even endeavored to show that he was the nearest heir to the crown. The issue of Iñes de Castro they set aside as sprung from an adulterous connection, and the same objection they urged against Beatrix, whose mother they considered as the lawful wife, not of the late king, but of the Lord de Pombeiro. In extolling the personal qualities of the regent,—his military capacity, his talents for administration, his diligence, prudence, and firmness,—they were more successful. Had Joam, the eldest son of Iñes, or even his brother Dinis, who were prisoners in Castile, been present, there would have been little need of such a display; but the possibility of their return seemed so remote, and the present danger so pressing, that, in the end, those who had most loudly advocated their rights, joined the party of the regent; and, on the 6th day of April, 1385, he was unanimously proclaimed king.

Joam I. (John, “the Great”) having, through the eloquence of his advocates and the no less effectual martial attitude of his friends, attained the great object of his ambition, vigorously prepared for the war with his rival of Castile. Through the promises as well as the menaces of his barons many of the most considerable fortified places in the interest of the Castilian king were recovered. The events which followed; the decisive victory gained by Joam at Aljubarota; the alternations of success and failure that succeeded; the arrival of the duke of Lancaster to obtain the Castilian crown in right of his wife Constanza, daughter of Pedro the Cruel; the alliance between the two princes, Joam marrying Philippa, a daughter of the duke; the subsequent reconciliation between the latter and the king of Castile, cemented by the marriage of the Princess Catherine, daughter of the Plantagenet, with Enrique, son of Juan, and other transactions of these troubled times, have already been noticed so far as the limits of this compendium can allow. Nor, though long after this reconciliation of the duke and the Castilian king a desultory warfare raged between Portugal 1384-1403 and that power, are the details sufficiently interesting to be laid before the reader. It must be sufficient to observe that peace was made and broken more than once; that the success lay with the Lusitanian king,—a success, however, attributable as much to the internal troubles of Castile after the death of Juan I. as to the valor of Joam: and that, when a more durable peace was concluded in 1403, the Portuguese had recovered their fortresses, and were in possession of Badajoz.

By his queen, Philippa, daughter of the Duke of Lancaster, Joam had several children, of whom five were sons. As these princes grew in years they displayed great martial ardor and promised to become the bulwarks of the country and throne. He had resolved to confer on them the honor of knighthood, and to celebrate the occasion by a magnificent tournament. But they despised the peaceful lists, and besought his permission to win their spurs in a nobler manner by an expedition against the Moors. The fortress of Ceuta,^[25] on the African side of the straits of Gibraltar seemed to them the most inviting of conquests; it promised also to be the most useful, as it was inhabited by pirates, who were daily disturbing the commerce of the kingdom, and who had accumulated riches sufficient to satisfy even avarice. Though eager to gratify a propensity which he loved, the king was at first startled by the magnitude of the proposed enterprise. The fortifications of Ceuta were strong, and defended by the bravest portion of the Mohammedan population: to reduce them a considerable armament must be prepared, and at an expense which he was loath to incur. In the end, however, he yielded to their urgent entreaties; the expedition was resolved, two confidential officers were sent to reconnoiter the place, and the royal council gave a reluctant consent to the project. But as secrecy alone could insure its success, as a premature disclosure of the design would have enabled the pirates to increase the number of their defenders and the strength of their works, the whole peninsula was in suspense, and not without alarm at the preparations of the king. Having tranquillized the Castilians, the Aragonese, and the Moors of Granada, as to his intentions, and fearful of rousing the suspicions of the Africans, he intimated that his armament was to be led against the count of Holland. Not even the death of his queen, who was carried off 1415-1417 by the plague,^[26] nor his advanced years, could suspend his preparations. At length, having collected a considerable number of vessels from most parts, and been joined by adventurers from most nations of Europe, accompanied by his sons and his chief nobles, Joam embarked, proceeded towards the straits, and, the middle of August, 1415, arrived before Ceuta. The Moorish governor, Sala ben Sala, a man advanced in years, but of undaunted courage, prepared for a vigorous defense. In spite, however, of his opposition, the disembarkation was effected without loss; the Moors who lined the coast were dispersed and forced to seek shelter in the fortress. The ardor of the two infantes caused them to pursue the fugitives so closely that both entered into the place at the same moment. Perceiving that they were accompanied by no more than 500 Christians, the former sent messengers for assistance, and were soon joined by a few hundred more. By this time another of the princes, Pedro, had disembarked, and hastened to rejoin his elder brothers, Duarte and Henrique. Before reaching them, however, he found that the Moors had rallied and were fiercely contending in various parts of the city for their domestic hearths. At length the place fell. On the towers of that fortress the royal standard of Portugal was soon hoisted; resistance was everywhere quelled, and immense spoils rewarded the victors. The grand mosque was immediately purified, Te Deum sung, and mass pontifically performed in it. At the same time the infantes, who had nobly won their spurs, were solemnly knighted. Having left a small but select garrison in Ceuta, and provided for the defense of the place against the inevitable assaults of the Moors, Joam reëmbarked, and with the remainder of the armament returned to Lisbon.

The heroism of the governor Dom Pedro and of the horsemen he commanded is the constant and enthusiastic theme of praise by the national writers. The number of skirmishes which he was compelled to sustain during the three years immediately following the reduction of Ceuta is said, no doubt hyperbolically, to have exceeded the number of days. It is certain that during his government the place was frequently assailed by the whole power of the African Moors, aided by the fleet of their brethren of Granada, and that he triumphed over them all. That the Moors should lament the loss of so fair a city,—a loss for which, considering 1417-1419 the strength of the fortifications, they were unable to account on natural grounds—and that they should burn with the desire of recovering it, was to be expected. No sooner did they see the fleet of Joam depart than hope cheered them. They resolved to invest the place, and if unable to reduce it by open force, they were sure to obtain it by famine—unless, as some of the more superstitious or more timid seemed to fear, the defenders neither ate nor drank. The king had ordered the governor not to leave the walls, but to be ready to repel assaults, which he foresaw would soon be made; and this inactivity aided their rising courage. They advanced to the fortifications, and burned a few vessels which still lay in the harbor. For some days this was borne, but with great indignation, by the Christian soldiers and hidalgos, when their murmurs became so loud that Dom Pedro was compelled to permit a few of them to combat with the enemy, but on the express condition that they would not remove far from the walls. The skirmishes which followed this concession were perpetual, and always honorable to the Portuguese. In one of these irruptions they cut down the trees and razed the walls of the spacious and magnificent gardens in the vicinity,—a measure, perhaps, rendered necessary from the facility with which the Moors intrenched themselves; but the havoc so incensed the latter that they plucked their beards, and swore to be avenged on the dogs who had done it. To omit no opportunity of fulfilling their vow, they took up their abode in the neighboring hills; and, for fear of surprise, fortified their position. To dislodge those who dwelt in the valley of Larenjo, the governor one night dispatched a select band, which made great carnage among them.

To avenge these atrocities the Moors now gathered in formidable numbers, not merely from the neighborhood, but from wherever the fame of their wrongs had penetrated; but they were always repulsed by the valiant count, whose exploits are represented as not much inferior to those of the cid, Ruy Dias, in Valencia. The very exaggeration, however, proves that Dom Pedro was the most valiant king of a valiant nation. In one of these sorties against some thousands of the misbelievers he was wounded, and the intelligence brought another body of Moors to the city, but with no better success; for so valiantly were they received by his captains, that they were glad to escape with their lives. But during three years no formal siege was laid to the 1419-1433 place; a circumstance sufficiently explicable by the perpetual struggles for empire among the Mohammedan princes of western Africa. In 1419 the fortress was first invested, and by an army formidable enough to inspire the assailants with the hope of success. In the combats which ensued, the Christians, notwithstanding the loss of some brave captains, were, as usual, victorious; and “a pleasant thing it was,” says the chronicler, “to see our men, like the waters which flowed on the beach, sprinkled with infidel blood.” After some days the siege was raised, with the loss of some thousands on the part of the Africans. But scarcely had the governor time to congratulate himself on this event before he received news which filled him with apprehension—that a more formidable army and a fleet from Granada were preparing to move against him. He lost no time in soliciting succor from King Joam, who as readily granted it. Again was the place invested—this time by sea and land; and, as before, the valor of the besieged was almost superhuman. Fearing, however, that it must ultimately surrender, if not more effectually succored, the king ordered two of his sons—the infantes Henrique and Joam—to sail with a considerable armament. As they approached the place they perceived that the Mohammedans had landed and furiously assailed Dom Pedro, who, with his handful of brave companions, was making terrific carnage among them. This formidable host was totally routed, while the infantes took or dispersed the Moorish vessels, commanded by a prince of the royal house of Granada. This splendid success drew the eyes of all Europe towards this extremity of Africa.

During these years the king was constantly employed in the duties of administration. In 1422 he lost his constable, Dom Nunho Alvarez Pereiro, who left the court for the cloister, and passed the last nine years of his life in penitence and prayer. In 1433 he followed that celebrated man to the grave. His actions will best bespeak his character. We may add that his generosity was truly royal, that he rewarded his servants with a prodigal hand, that he founded some religious edifices, and made some addition to the legislative code of his country. As he advanced in years his sense of justice appears to have greatly improved; at least we hear no more of the violent acts which disgraced his early days, and which will forever tarnish his memory.

In the reign of this prince the Portuguese began their famous 1419 career of maritime discovery. His son, the infante Henrique, who had made the mathematical sciences and navigation a continual study, was the first to enter on this course. To facilitate his long-meditated enterprise, he fixed his abode in the kingdom of Algarve, on the most elevated point of Cape St. Vincent; a spot which he also considered as favorable to his astronomical observations, and where he founded the town of Sagres. The first voyage, with two frail barks, was undertaken in 1419, and extended only about five degrees of latitude, and was consequently unsuccessful. The following year, however, three vessels being equipped for a much longer adventure, arrived at the Madeiras, which had been previously discovered by Machin, and took possession. A subsequent expedition penetrated as far south as Sierra Leone, within three degrees of the line. But this enterprise was considered too hardy to be immediately improved; from this time half a century had elapsed before any Portuguese vessel ventured beyond these latitudes, though the Canaries were, in the interim, discovered by some Biscayan mariners. Martin V. granted to the nation of the royal Henrique the dominion of the regions which might thenceforward be discovered from Cape Bojador to the Indies. If this prince was thus given to voyages, his brother Pedro was no less addicted to traveling. In 1424, accompanied by twelve of his most faithful servants, he first repaired to the court of the Greek emperor, where he was received in a manner becoming his birth. The soldan of Babylon afforded him a no less magnificent reception. Having worshiped in the holy places of Palestine, he sailed for Rome, where the pope presented him with a bull permitting the kings of Portugal, like those of France, to be anointed and crowned. While in Germany he aided the Emperor Sigismund in the wars against Hungary and Venice. By the English Henry VI. he was received with even greater distinction, and admitted among the knights of the garter. He returned to his own country, after an absence of about four years, and was regarded as a living prodigy; and a prodigy he really was, at a time when long journeys were unknown, and when no man traveled from one kingdom to another without making his will.

By Joam I. the era of Caesar was abolished in Portugal, and the Christian mode of computation adopted.

The reign of Duarte, or Edward, though short, was doomed to be more disastrous than that of any preceding monarch of 1437 Lusitania. The first great calamity was the plague which raged during the whole of his reign, and which lamentably thinned the population. But a greater was the expedition against Tangier, the preparations for which oppressed his people, and the result of which filled the kingdom with murmurs.

The restless ambition of the king’s brother, Ferdinand, hurried him into this disastrous enterprise. This infante had been too young to share in the glorious conquests of Ceuta: and had not, like Pedro or Henrique, obtained celebrity either by traveling or science. But he burned for distinction as much as either: and he now solicited the royal permission to leave the kingdom and to enter the service of some European power. Duarte, who regarded this request as the offspring of discontent, promised to increase his revenues, but forbade him to depart. Henrique next proposed an African expedition, at first with no better success; but both infantes having gained the queen to their views, whose influence over the mind of the king was all-powerful, a reluctant consent was at length wrung from him. He seems, however, to have entertained very honorable scruples as to the justice of the warfare in which he was about to engage. The Moors had not lately injured his people except in their natural endeavor to recover Ceuta; and he could no more reconcile to his conscience the forcibly depriving them of their possessions than if he entered the house and despoiled the substance of a neighbor. Consideration, later on, removed the scruples of Duarte, and the expedition was resolved.

The inexperience which governed the preparations and the accidental hindrances which impeded their completion were regarded as melancholy omens by the people. The armament sailed on August 22, 1437, and on the 26th arrived before Ceuta, a place which the heroic governor and his no less heroic son had continued to defend with the same success. From the gates they had made frequent excursions to a considerable distance—twice as far as Tetuan; the first inroad had been without success, but the second time the terrified inhabitants had abandoned the city to the Christians, who had wrapped it in flames. The two infantes, Henrique and Ferdinand, who commanded the present expedition, were inflamed by the desire of equal glory; but their ardor was for a moment damped when they perceived that instead of 14,000 men, the number ordered by the king, they had no more than 6,000. Whether this deplorable proof of mismanagement was their work, 1437 or that of the ministers at home, was now vain to inquire. They were advised to solicit and wait for a considerable reinforcement, but with their usual impatience they resolved to proceed to Tangier—Henrique by land and Ferdinand by sea, so as to co-operate with each other. The former, who proposed to march by way of Alcaçer, dispatched Joam de Pereira, one of his captains, with a thousand men, to reconnoiter the country. Pereira soon fell in with a great body of Moors whom he attacked and dispersed. On his representation that the route from Ceuta to Alcaçer was impracticable, Henrique proceeded by way of Tetuan. He reached Tangier without accident on September 23, and found that his brother had arrived before him. The Portuguese immediately encamped before the place, which was defended by Sala ben Sala, former governor of Ceuta, with 7,000 Moors. Scarcely were the operations commenced when a report was artfully spread by the Africans that they were preparing to abandon the fortress, the gates of which were opened as if for the purpose. The credulous Christians hastened to take possession, but as they approached the gates the Moors spitefully shut them, and increased their rage by an insulting laugh. After a siege of thirty-eight days, when some parts of the walls were shaken, a general assault was decreed. While the infante Ferdinand and the Count de Arroyalos attacked on the side of Fez, the martial bishop of Ceuta and Dom Ferdinand Coutinho advanced on another: the infante Henrique assaulted the fortress as being best defended. But as if every measure of this ill-concerted expedition were doomed to be at once imbecile and unsuccessful, after sustaining a heavy loss, the besiegers finding that their scaling-ladders were too short were compelled to retreat with shame from the foot of the ramparts. Before others could be procured from Ceuta, the Moors of Fez and Morocco, amounting, we are gravely told, in number to 1,000 horse and 8,000 infantry, advanced to raise the siege. Instead, however, of being alarmed at this prodigious force, Henrique with 4,000 of his valiant troops hastened to give them battle; but so great was the dread which this heroic little band had struck into that immense host that none of the misbelievers daring to wait for the onset, all escaped with precipitation over the neighboring hills! But as their numbers soon increased by new accessions to 13,000 men, they returned, and this time fought with courage. After a struggle of some hours this vast force yielded to the impetuosity of the 1437 infante Ferdinand and fled, leaving some thousands dead on the field. These wondrous fables are not enough. Indignant at the repeated losses of their brethren, the kings of northwestern Africa combined the whole of the respective forces, and marched towards the place. The surprise of Henrique was great on seeing the neighboring hills moving with life; the number of enemies on this occasion, we are veraciously assured, being 60,000 cavalry, and 700,000 foot! But if surprised, he was not despairing: he intrusted the command of the artillery to one officer, of the infantry to another, and with the cavalry posted himself on an eminence. On contemplating, however, the dense and widely extended ranks of the Moslems, even he acknowledged that to withstand such a host would be temerity. He accordingly gave directions for his little army to fall back and to regain the ships. Before this could be effected, the Africans, like tigers of their own deserts, sprang upon them, eager to drink their blood. Like a wall of adamant the infante and his devoted band received the shock and repelled it. His horse falling under him he mounted that of a page, turned round on the enemy, and made dreadful havoc among them. But the Portuguese could do nothing against the myriads; his guards were killed by his side, and he was compelled to retreat, fighting, however, at every step, until he reached the intrenchments, where the contest became more bloody and desperate than it had yet been. Some of the defenders now fled,—for the chroniclers reluctantly allow that even a Portuguese may flee,—but the seamen on board the vessel landed, forced the fugitives to return, and the conflict was sustained during some hours with miraculous valor! Towards night it was suspended; and the infante agreed with his remaining captains that at midnight the Christians should silently leave their intrenchments, pass to the beach, and be received on board. As the invaders were now without provisions and water, this expedient was the only hope of safety which remained to them. But even of this they were soon deprived by the treachery of Martin Vieyra, Henrique’s chaplain, who passed over to the misbelievers, and acquainted them with the project. In consequence of this information, the Moors stationed a formidable guard along the passages to the sea and on the beach. The following morning they advanced to the trenches; the battle was renewed, and sustained for eight hours with unshaken firmness, though with greatly diminished numbers. 1437 On this occasion no one exhibited more valor than the bishop of Ceuta, as he strode from rank to rank to distribute indulgences with one hand, with the other he hewed down the misbelievers in a style that called for the enthusiastic admiration of the faithful. His armor was so shattered by the blows he received that his pontifical robes underneath were partially visible: sometimes he turned for a moment to bless or absolve; but no sooner had the words of peace left his lips than another stroke of his sword sent a pagan soul to its dark account. In the end the enemy, unable to force the intrenchments, set them on fire, and on the approach of night retired. The hours which should have been given to rest were occupied in extinguishing the conflagration, a labor not less fatiguing than the conflict of the day. To allay the hunger of his followers the infante ordered the horses to be killed; but as there was no water, and as everyone raged with a burning thirst, the boon was scarcely acceptable until heaven sent a copious shower of rain. But however seasonable this relief, it could only be momentary. Famine, or death by the sword, or what was still worse, perpetual captivity, stared the unhappy Christians in the face, when they received a proposal which they could not have expected. They were promised both life and liberty, as the condition of their surrendering the artillery, arms, and baggage, and restoring the fortress of Ceuta. To men in their desperate condition this proposal was too liberal not to be joyfully accepted. For their performance of the covenant the infante Ferdinand offered himself as hostage; and was accompanied by four other knights. The Moors delivered into the hands of Henrique a son of Sala ben Sala. The chiefs and a great part of the African army now left Tangier; while the Portuguese, reduced to 3,000, prepared to re-embark. But with characteristic duplicity, the barbarians attempted to prevent the departure of the Christians, who were constrained to fight their way to the ships.

While his once proud armament was slowly returning to Lisbon, Henrique, ashamed to appear at court, proceeded to Ceuta, where fatigue of body and anxiety of mind threw him into a serious illness. No sooner did Prince Joam, who was then in Algarve, hear of the illness of one brother and the captivity of another, than he repaired to Ceuta. The two infantes there agreed that, as the royal consent to the restoration of the fortress could not reasonably be expected, Joam should propose the exchange of their 1437 brother for the son of the African. The proposal was scornfully rejected by the Moors, who threatened, if the place were not immediately restored, to take signal revenge on the person of the infante. Joam now returned to Portugal to acquaint the king with the melancholy position of affairs. Henrique also repaired to court from his observatory on Cape St. Vincent to consult on the means of liberating the royal captive. It was resolved that the prince should remain in captivity until the efficacy of money should be proved vain. His sufferings are represented,—probably, with truth,—for the African Moors are destitute of any virtue, as at once cruel and humiliating. No sooner was he delivered into the hands of Sala ben Sala, than he began to experience the most savage barbarity. So long as there was hope that Ceuta would be restored, this treatment was sometimes suspended; but when no answer arrived to the letters written by the Moor to the Portuguese court, it was aggravated in severity. No ransom would be received by Sala, whose only object was the recovery of his lost seat of government. But when the king of Castile, Juan II., began to remonstrate against the detention of the infante, and even to threaten hostilities unless a ransom were received for him, the Moor, unwilling to incur the responsibility of his charge, delivered him into the hands of his superior, the king of Fez. By that tyrant Ferdinand was consigned to a subterraneous dungeon, excluded alike from air and light. After some months, however, he was drawn from his prison,—doubtless because his persecutors knew that a longer confinement would soon place him beyond their reach—and made to work, like the vilest slave, in the royal stables and gardens. In this situation he heard of Dom Duarte’s death; but the intelligence, which was confirmed by events, was accompanied by a report, which, unfortunately for him, proved to be untrue—that, in his last testament, his brother had directed Ceuta to be restored. It was for a time believed by the Moorish king, who ordered him to be treated with less severity, but who, at the same time, resolved that not even the surrender of the fortress, without a large sum of money, should set him free. No sooner was the intelligence found to be erroneous than, in revenge, the victim was subjected to new indignities. Not only was he deprived of all food, except a crust of bread once in twenty-four hours, but he was ironed, put to harder labor, and allowed no apparel beyond a rag, for the modesty of nature. The relation of his 1438 sufferings at length moved the pity of his brother, Pedro, regent of the kingdom, who, in the name of the royal Alfonso, dispatched commissioners to Ceuta to receive the infante and to remit the keys of that fortress into the hands of the king of Fez. But they soon found that the barbarian had further views; that he insisted on the restoration of the place prior to the delivery of his captive; that his object was to gain possession of their persons, and be thereby enabled to dictate whatever terms he pleased. The negotiations were abruptly ended, and the ill-fated prince returned to his dungeon, where he languished until 1443, when death put a period to his sufferings.

The unfortunate issue of the African war, and the complaints of his captive brother, most sensibly affected the heart of Duarte, over whom, had his life been spared, fraternal affection would, doubtless, have triumphed. That he meditated another expedition, and that he commenced preparations on a formidable scale, is honorable to his heart; but his subjects were thinned by the plague; commerce was suspended; the fields remained uncultivated; the public revenues were exhausted, and the people unwilling to make further sacrifices. Unfortunately for his people his life was too short for the benefits he meditated. In 1438 he was seized by the plague at Tomar, whither he had retired to escape its fury, and in a few days he breathed his last. This prince was worthy of a better fate. He had qualities of a high order;—he was enlightened, just, and patriotic, and if virtue or talent could have controlled the course of human events his kingdom would have been happy.

Alfonso V., the eldest son of Duarte, being only six years of age on his father’s death, the regency devolved in conformity with the last will of her husband on the queen-mother, a princess of excellent disposition, but not exempted from the fickleness of her sex, and ill-qualified to rule a fierce people. To such a people the sway even of a native woman could scarcely have been agreeable; as a foreigner (a princess of Aragon), she was peculiarly obnoxious. Seeing this general discontent, some of the nobles, with three uncles of the king, resolved to profit by it. By their intrigues, by their artful reports and injurious surmises, they contrived to embarrass her from the beginning of her administration. Of the three infantes, the hostility of Joam was the most bitter, of Henrique the most disinterested, of Pedro the most politic, the 1439 most ambitious, and consequently the most to be dreaded. Though possessed of no great sagacity, the queen perceived where the danger lay, and offered to Dom Pedro to affiance his daughter Isabella with the young king—an offer which he readily accepted, but which in no manner interrupted his career of ambition. But learning of this the nobles in the interest of the queen, and of the Count de Barcelos, a natural brother of the infante’s, and the more numerous party who envied the success of Pedro, organized an opposition which threatened to displace him from his eminence. At this crisis Henrique proposed in the states assembled at Lisbon that the executive should be divided,—that the education of the king and the care of the finances should rest with the queen, that the administration of justice should be intrusted to the Count de Barcelos, and that Pedro should be nominated protector of the kingdom. Pedro was dissatisfied with the division of power, the Count de Barcelos with the proposed marriage of the Princess Isabella with the king, for whom he intended his own daughter, and the queen with them both. The queen now joined the count in forcing Pedro to surrender the written engagement as to the marriage; but the latter had soon his revenge. To bring the question of the regency to an issue, the populace, the only authority then subsisting, assembled in the church of St. Dominic and swore that until Alfonso reached his majority the government should rest in Dom Pedro. Fidelity was at length sworn to the new regent in the cathedral of Lisbon; and, to exclude Leonora from the hope of any share in the administration, it was at the same time ordained that if Pedro died he should be succeeded in the office by his brother Henrique, and the latter by the infante Joam, and that thenceforward no woman should be allowed to rule the Portuguese. This was not all: the princess was to be wounded in her affection, as well as her ambition. Under the pretext that the education of the young king, if left to her, must necessarily be effeminate and unfit him for his station, he was removed by a sudden decree of the same Cortes from her care, and placed under that of the regent.

Though compelled to obey the popular voice, which on this occasion was that of the kingdom, Leonora was eager to regain her authority. Fleeing to Castile the queen, supported by the representations, and even threats, of Juan II., labored in vain to regain her lost influence. Those representations and threats were 1445 treated with open contempt; yet the states agreed to pay her an annual pension corresponding to her rank, on the condition that she remained out of the kingdom—a condition which she rejected. In 1445 she formally requested permission to return to end her days with her children, and her wish would doubtless have been gratified had not death surprised her at Toledo.

In 1446 King Alfonso reached his fourteenth year—the period of his majority. His first acts were regarded by the people as favorable omens of his future administration, and, above all, of his disposition to cultivate a good understanding with the regent. When, in the Cortes convoked for the occasion at Lisbon, Pedro resigned the delegated authority into his hands, he desired the latter to retain it till he was better able to bear the load; and he soon afterwards married Isabella, to whom he had been affianced in his tenth year. But these buds of hope were soon blighted. The regent was powerful; he therefore had enemies—and enemies the more bitter, that there was now a master who could destroy him with ease. Of these none were more vindictive or base than his natural brother, the Count de Barcelos: we may add, that none could be more ungrateful; for on this very brother he had just conferred the lordship of Braganza, with the title of duke. This duke,—for such we must hereafter call him,—whose soul was as base as his birth, endeavored by the most abject flattery, and by the meanest attentions, to win the favor of the young sovereign and poison his mind against the character and actions of the regent. He succeeded too well: his society became a necessary not to be dispensed with. At length Pedro, believing that his enemies were such from ambitious motives and in private life would cease to persecute him, requested permission to retire to Coimbra, of which he was duke. His request was granted; and so also was another—an act, under the royal signature and seal, approving the whole of his administration. No sooner had he departed than a hundred reptiles darted their stings. Among the new charges brought against him was one of incredible boldness—that which fastened on him the guilt of poisoning the late king and queen. In vain did the sage Henrique hasten from his aërial residence above Cape St. Vincent to vindicate the character of his brother; in vain did Dom Alfonso de Almado, a nobleman of unsullied honor, join in the chivalrous act,—for chivalrous it was, when the lives of both were threatened as their reward if they did not immediately retire from the court; in vain did the 1446-1449 latter enter the royal council, inveigh against the atrocious designs of some courtiers, and challenge all who dared to dispute Dom Pedro’s virtues to a mortal combat; in vain did the royal Isabella plead her father’s innocence;—the victim’s doom appeared to be sealed. Alfonso published an edict debarring all his subjects from communication with the prince, and ordering him to remain on his estates. The duke of Braganza now assembled his troops and marched towards Coimbra: he was met by Dom Pedro, before whose handful of brave friends he fled with ignominy, and returned to court, to incense the king still more. Finally, by maneuvers which no stranger to a court could suppose possible, he and his murderous faction obtained a royal decree declaring the duke of Coimbra a traitor and rebel. Seeing that his destruction was resolved, the latter no longer hesitated as to what course he should pursue. In self-defense he laid in provisions for a siege in Coimbra. Hearing, however, that the king in person was coming to besiege him, he hastily prepared to meet his enemies—not, he said, to oppose his king, but to vindicate his own cause, and to defy his calumniators.

Before the duke left Coimbra he retired into his chapel with his friend, Dom Almado, who had so courageously defended him before the royal council. To the count he unbosomed his heart, asserted that he was tired of life, that, unless his justification were received by the king, he could not and would not support it, and concluded by hoping that in this last extremity he should not be forsaken by his friend. Dom Alvaro fell at his feet, kissed his hands, and expressed an unalterable resolution of living and dying with him. They next embraced each other, and set out, persuaded that they were marching to certain death. Their troops were composed of 1,000 horse and 5,000 foot, all resolved to perish rather than permit a beloved leader to be oppressed; and on their banners were engraven “Fidelity! Justice! Vengeance!” His enemies took care to represent his march towards the capital as the consequence of his resolution to dethrone Alfonso. To arrest it, the king hastened to meet him, with about 30,000 veteran troops; they approached each other on the banks of the Alfarrobeira, above which was an eminence where Pedro entrenched himself. Just before the assault was given, a royal edict was proclaimed, ordering his followers to forsake the infante unless they wished to be involved in his destruction. Some abandoned him, but the majority remained 1446-1456 faithful. For some hours, notwithstanding the alarming disproportion of numbers, the attack was repelled with heroic valor; but Pedro, who desperately sought the most dangerous post, and who evidently resolved to sacrifice his life, fell through a wound in the throat. No sooner was the surviving friend, Dom Alvaro, acquainted with this catastrophe than he seized his lance, mounted his horse, and plunged into the midst of the hostile squadrons. Though he laid many low, he was not long in receiving the death he sought. The carnage which followed was terrific: the troops of the fallen infante, intent on revenging his death and resolved on their own, would neither give nor receive quarter: almost all fell on the field. The vengeance of Alfonso passed beyond the grave: he ordered the corpse of Pedro to remain on the ground, to be forever deprived of the last rites of humanity; but in a few days some compassionate peasants, whose souls might have put to shame the boasted chivalry of nobles, privately removed it and interred it in the church of Alverca. This was not the worst: amidst the excitement of the moment many suspected of sympathy for the ill-fated prince were massacred, and the descendants of all his adherents to the fourth generation declared infamous—incapable of holding any public charge.

The death of this prince,—the greatest whom Portugal had lately seen,—caused a deep sensation throughout Europe, and from Rome to Britain drew forth nothing but execrations against his murderers. Of his children, who were compelled to flee from the kingdom, and who were in the sequel permitted to return, the eldest, Pedro, was the only one that availed himself of the permission. To prevent the return of these princes, and to escape the justice due to its crimes, was the constant aim of the base house of Braganza. That the queen, whose favor with the king was too firm to be shaken, would at length have procured the punishment of her father’s murderers is exceedingly probable; but in 1455, while in the possession of youth and health, she suddenly sickened and died.

The disastrous captivity of the infante Ferdinand had sunk deep into the heart of Alfonso, as into that of most princes of his family; and the desire of revenge had been suspended, not abandoned. A circumstance which was calculated to suspend it some time longer hastened its execution. The reduction of Constantinople by the Turks had filled Christian Europe with consternation, 1457-1459 and had led to the formation of a general league, the object of which was to drive back the misbelievers into their Asiatic wilds. But the death of the pope, who had so zealously espoused the holy warfare, and the dissensions of the Christian princes occasioned the dissolution of the confederacy. Of these none had exhibited more zeal than Alfonso, whose preparations in the ports of Lisbon, Setubal, and Oporto were now disposable against the African Moors. His original intention was to reduce the fortress of Tangier, the siege of which had proved so unfortunate to the Princes Henrique and Ferdinand; but the advice of a Portuguese noble, then at Ceuta, who probably dreaded the issue of an attempt on that strong fortress, determined him to invest Alcaçar Seguer. In September, 1457, the armament, consisting of above 200 vessels, and carrying 20,000 men, sailed from the three ports, effected a junction at sea, and steered towards the Moorish coast. On the 17th of the following month it arrived before the place, where, notwithstanding the opposition of the enemy, the disembarkation was effected without much loss. The batteries were now erected, towards sunset a general assault was ordered, scaling-ladders were placed against the walls, and a resolute body of the besiegers mounted. The reception, however, which they experienced was so warm that a suspension of the combat followed. No sooner did the king of Fez hear that the Portuguese were preparing to invest Alcaçar Seguer than he collected troops and marched to relieve it. On the way he heard of its fall, but he resolved to recover it. Having halted to receive reinforcements, on the 13th of November, the following year, the king appeared before the place at the head, we are told, of 30,000 horse and a prodigious number of foot. In vain did Alfonso, who advanced from Ceuta, endeavor to throw supplies into the fortress. Disappointed in his hope, and afraid with forces so greatly inferior to run the risk of an action, he caused a letter to be thrown over the walls exhorting the governor to hold out until his return from Portugal, whither he found it necessary to repair for reinforcements. His departure animated the courage of the Moors, but did not deject that of the defenders. After a siege of many days the Mohammedan king ordered a general assault, which was repulsed with heavy loss; so heavy, indeed, that he was compelled to retire in search of reinforcements. In July the following year the Moorish king appeared a second time before it, accompanied, we are told, by the most numerous 1464-1471 army ever collected in this part of Africa. But on the present, as on the former occasion, success refused to shine on his banners, and, after some desperate efforts, which were signally repulsed, he resolved to raise the siege.

The success which had attended the defense of Alcaçar Seguer animated Alfonso to renew the attempt on Tangier. Accordingly, in 1464, he sailed with another armament; but on his reaching the African coast he returned to Ceuta, confiding the attack on that formidable fortress to his brother Ferdinand. The infante, declining the aid of Duarte de Menezes, the valiant defender of Tangier, lest the latter should reap the whole glory of the conquest, hastened to claim it for himself. But though the assault was vigorously made, it was repulsed with deplorable loss; the flower of the Portuguese chivalry either perished on the spot, or were compelled to surrender. This disastrous issue filled the king with dismay, and he resolved to return home. Before he embarked, however, four Moors, with characteristic perfidy, intimated that if he made an excursion to a neighboring mountain he might take abundant spoil. He credulously believed them, and, with 800 horse and a small body of infantry, proceeded towards the place. Being artfully drawn into the passes, he was assailed by the Moors in ambush, most of his knights, among whom was the heroic Dom Duarte, were cut off on this excursion, and he himself had considerable difficulty in effecting his escape. For some years the result of this inglorious expedition seems to have inspired him with too much dread to renew the attempt; but in 1471 he embarked 30,000 men on board 308 transports and proceeded to invest Arsilla, a fortress on the Atlantic about seventeen leagues from the straits of Gibraltar. It was furiously assailed by the Portuguese; was as furiously defended by the inhabitants, who scorned to submit, until most of them had perished with arms in their hands. The king himself, and his son, the infante Joam, were among the foremost in the assault, the former loudly invoking the aid of Our Lady. On this occasion the remembrance of their late reverses steeled the Portuguese against humanity, and they massacred all—as well those who resisted as those who threw down their arms in token of submission—with diabolical fury. In this work of ruthless destruction Joam was surpassed by none of his countrymen.

In the meantime Muley, king of Fez, advanced to raise the 1471-1479 siege. His consternation, on finding that the place had been carried and the defenders exterminated, was so great, that he sued for peace. But his mortifications did not end here. Terrified by the fate of Arsilla, and convinced that the victorious army would next march against them, the inhabitants of Tangier abandoned the city with all their movable substance. It was immediately occupied by the Christians and formed into an episcopal see.

The transactions of Alfonso V. with Castile, through his meditated union with Juana, reputed daughter of Enrique IV., more usually termed the Beltraneja, his wars with the Catholic sovereigns, and the peace of 1479, have been already related. There are, however, some circumstances attending his assiduous court to the French king that must not be passed over in silence. Not satisfied with sending an embassy to Louis XI., who promised to aid him to the extent of his wishes, in 1476 he resolved to visit that prince in person—a mark of confidence which he hoped would operate more powerfully in his favor than any embassy. How little he knew the perfidy of that pretended ally appeared from the result of this extraordinary voyage. If there be any truth in a report of the time—a report too well confirmed by the character of Louis—his arrest and delivery into the hands of King Ferdinand were seriously intended on his visit to Paris. It appears certain that he himself suspected the perfidy, and that, in the first impulse of his disappointment, he resolved to visit Palestine, and afterwards to end his days in some monastery. It is no less certain that he sent a confidential messenger to his son Joam, whom he acquainted with the resolution, and whom he ordered to be proclaimed king; that he secretly repaired into Normandy, for the purpose of effecting his escape; that he was pursued and arrested by order of Louis, who, however, soon repented of the violence, set him free, and provided vessels for his return into Portugal. The resolution to pass his days in religious exercises he abandoned with the same levity he had formed it. On landing in his kingdom he found that his son had been proclaimed; and by his attendants apprehensions were entertained lest Joam should refuse to descend from the dignity. However this may be, Joam met his father, to whom he resigned the dignity, and was, in appearance at least, contented to remain a subject so long as Alfonso lived. The king’s return caused great joy in Portugal; he was loved, while his son was feared; the one was clement and indulgent, the other was severe 1481-1482 in his disposition, and of inflexible justice; the one pardoned real guilt, the other spared not even the suspicion of crime.

Alfonso V. did not long survive the conclusion of peace with Castile. Like his father, he died of the plague, and like him, too, in the prime of life; the former at the age of 37, himself at 49, of which he had passed 43 on the throne. With the exception of the accidental success in Africa his reign was almost uniformly disastrous—a misfortune more owing to the deplorable weakness of his character than to any other cause. His reign is, however, somewhat redeemed by the discoveries of the infante Henrique, who, from his residence at Tagus, continued to fix his eyes intently on the maritime regions of western Africa. Through this enlightened prince, the Azores, with the Madeiras, the Canaries, Cape de Verd, and other islands west of that great continent, were discovered or colonized. The discovery of the Cape de Verd, the last which illustrated the life of Henrique, was owing to the enterprise of a Genoese, Antonio Nolle, who had derived a confused knowledge of their existence from the ancient geographers, and who, from some dissatisfaction with his own country, offered his services to the prince. Having coasted from Morocco to Cape de Verd, he deviated westwards and soon fell in with the islands, which he called after the cape of that name.

When Joam II. (John, “the Perfect”) ascended the throne, he found the royal revenues so much diminished by the profusion of his father that he was at a loss how to conduct the administration of the kingdom, much more, if the necessity should arise, of defending it against foreign ambition. The avarice no less than the haughtiness of the aristocracy—haughty alike to the monarch and peasant—had long sunk deep into his mind; and he was now resolved to commence a series of reforms, rendered imperative alike by his own necessities and the interests of his people. Joam soon discovered where the real grievances lay. His first object was to introduce a new oath, to be taken by the governors of all towns, fortresses, and castles, and by all holders of fiefs, limiting and defining their dependence on the royal authority, and on that alone. He next abolished the worst evil of feudal institutions—the power of life and death by the lord over the vassal, and reserved to himself alone, or his own judges, the prerogative of deciding in capital cases. By another ordinance, he subjected the feudal to the royal tribunals, and provided for the gradual extinction 1481-1482 of the former; thus transferring his people from the jurisdiction of local tyrants to magistrates nominated by and dependent on the crown. Nor were these nominations henceforth to be made from the nobility alone, but from all classes of the people, the only qualifications to be learning and merit.

Reasonable as these regulations must appear to every modern reader, they were exceedingly disagreeable, nay, odious, to the nobles, whom they deprived of irresponsible power and reduced to the class of subjects. From murmurs they proceeded to remonstrances, which they confided for presentation to the duke of Braganza, as chief of their order. The reply he received was truly regal, and one, as it was publicly delivered, that deeply mortified his pride. He was sternly told that he had no right to judge the actions, much less to censure the motives, of kings; that the only duty and only glory of subjects was submission; and that, if such submission were not voluntarily and freely paid, it would not fail to be enforced. His brother, the Marquis Montemor, was exiled for some trivial offense—though the exile was intended to be merely temporary—from that place to Castel-branco. Another brother, the count of Olivença, was deposed from the dignity of chancellor. These nobles, all staunch advocates for the privileges of their order, and among the proudest of men, were mortified beyond measure to find that they had a master. Two of them bore the humiliation with outward resignation; but the marquis, not satisfied with denouncing in violent terms what he called the insulting injustice done to the nobles, exclaimed with vehemence against the character alike of king and government. His libels were not merely verbal, but written: some of the latter he forwarded to Ferdinand of Aragon and Castile, with whom he maintained an imprudent, even a treasonable, communication.

Though the duke of Braganza condemned the violence of his brother, that his own hostility was equal, and his conduct no less treasonable, appeared from the sequel. While examining a mass of papers, copies were found of several letters from the duke to the Castilian king, with the answers, and the correspondence seemed suspicious enough to be laid before Joam. Hence, Joam resolved to arrest and bring the duke to trial; a resolution of which he seems to have been ignorant, though he knew his safety was precarious. Unwilling, however, to increase the suspicion under which he lay, he would not leave the court without permission, and 1483 one day entered the royal cabinet for the purpose. On his entrance, the king, who was transacting business with his ministers, made him sit down, and conversed with him with apparent cordiality. When the ministers had retired, the duke endeavored to dissipate the suspicions of Joam by professions of loyalty, and observed, that with respect to his dispute with his monarch, he wished for nothing more than for justice to be done by the tribunals of the country. But instead he was immediately arrested and consigned to a neighboring tower. His trial was immediately instituted, and pushed by the king with indecent haste. The charges were easily proved; he was sentenced to death, and his effects to be confiscated. He received the sentence with unshaken firmness, applied his few remaining hours to the exercises of devotion, and, in a last letter to the king recommended to the royal mercy his innocent wife and children. The following day (July 23, 1483) a scaffold was erected in the great square of Evora, and at the hour appointed he suffered his punishment without a sigh or a groan. The three sons of the duke immediately fled into Castile, and their example was followed by the marquis of Montemor, whose estates were confiscated, and by his brother the count: a third brother, the deposed chancellor, who had been charged with no crime, at first proposed to remain, but a royal mandate compelled him to leave the kingdom.

This tragedy was soon to be followed by another. The fall of the house of Braganza, and the consequent failure of their schemes to retain possession of their tyrannical privileges, so incensed the nobles that a conspiracy was formed by some of them to assassinate both the king and his son Don Alfonso, and to place the duke of Viseo on the vacant throne. This prince, named Diego, was son of the infante Ferdinand, brother of Alfonso V., and consequently cousin to the king; and his connection with the throne had been strengthened by the marriage of his sister Leonora with his sovereign. He readily entered into the views of the conspirators; he was ambitious of reigning; he regretted the deceased duke; he was generous, and therefore popular with the nation; and he was the friend of Ferdinand of Castile;—advantages which he regarded as sufficient to aid him in bringing about the meditated revolution. The details of the conspiracy were finally arranged at Santarem.

But though Joam was in possession of this momentous information, 1483 his sense of justice would not permit him to act on suspicion or on tales brought to him, and he merely charged his bodyguards not to lose sight of his person. It was soon confirmed by one of the actual conspirators, Dom Vasco Coutinho, who had been admitted into the number by his own brother. This man, who had feigned great zeal for the success of the plot, had been introduced to the Duke de Viseo, and by that prince had been acquainted with every detail. The information which he hastened to lay before the king caused the latter to redouble his precautions of defense. The brother of Dom Vasco and Dom Pedro de Ataide, who were charged with the assassination, now closely watched the movements of their intended victim. One day as Joam, almost unaccompanied, was ascending the great staircase of his palace, he met the assassins, and from the motions instantly made by Pedro he divined that now was the crisis of his fate. With a presence of mind and a commanding manner almost peculiar to himself, he demanded what was the matter. “Nothing,” replied Pedro, “but that I was near falling.”—“Beware of falling!” rejoined the other, with his usual coolness, and walked on before the opportunity could be regained. A few days afterwards, however, being so imprudent as to venture with a few attendants to a church outside the walls of the city, he perceived that he was enveloped by most of the conspirators. Again was he saved by his presence of mind. These repeated disappointments terrified the head of the conspiracy, who by letter reproached the actors with their cowardly delay. Joam was informed of this and now perceived that he could temporize no longer. Under the pretext of communicating some confidential affairs, he sent for the duke to court, and the latter with some reluctance obeyed the summons. Being ushered into the room of audience, near which three men were concealed as witnesses, and, if necessary, as actors, in the impending tragedy, Dom Diego appeared with a cheerful and loyal countenance, and Joam with one of equal benignity. After a few moments’ conversation, the latter asked, in a manner of studied carelessness, “Cousin, suppose you knew a man who had sworn to take away your life, what would you do?”—“I would hasten to take his!”—“Die, then!” rejoined the king; “thou hast pronounced thine own doom!” and a dagger, wielded by the royal hand, entered the traitor’s heart. Thus ended this formidable conspiracy. The king was generally condemned for so savagely performing the 1482-1486 functions of executioner; but many, in a true Turkish spirit, defended him, on the ground that as punishment was justly done, the manner—whether by the royal hand or by the headsman—was immaterial. Dom Manuel, brother of the duke, was subsequently brought to court, created constable of the kingdom, duke of Beja, and invested with many of the fiefs possessed by that nobleman. After Alfonso, son of Joam, he was the next heir to the throne.

In the reign of this prince the Portuguese spirit of maritime enterprise was carried to a high pitch; a spirit which, except in one instance,^[27] he was always anxious to foster. His first care was to found a fort on the coast of Guinea, which had been discovered during the preceding reign, for the purpose of maintaining a permanent commercial intercourse with the natives. The barbarian king, who had entered into an alliance with the strangers, consented to the erection of the fortress. From this moment Portugal, or rather her monarchs, derived a great revenue in ivory and gold from this unknown coast; so great, indeed, that he feared lest the vessels of other European nations should be attracted to it. This was what happened, for soon after Joam heard that vessels were constructing in the English ports, unknown to their king, Edward IV., and at the cost of the Duc de Medina-Sidonia, for an expedition to Ethiopia,—so the Portuguese termed all central Africa from the Nile to the western coast. He therefore sent an embassy to the English monarch, whom he reminded of the ancient alliance between the two crowns, and whom he easily induced to prohibit the preparations. In a short time the fortress of St. George of the Mine became a considerable city, and afterwards infamous from the traffic in slaves.

But this was only the beginning of Portuguese enterprise. The king had been taught to suspect that by coasting the African continent a passage to the East Indies might be discovered; and he not only equipped two small squadrons expressly for this object, but dispatched two of his subjects into India and Abyssinia, to discover the route to and between these vast regions, and what advantages Portuguese commerce might derive from the knowledge thus acquired. The two travelers, Pedro da Covilha and Alfonso de Payva, passed first to Naples, and thence to Rhodes, by the knights of which they were well received, and enabled to reach 1486-1487 Alexandria. There they separated,—Covilha for India, and, Payva for Abyssinia; but agreeing to rejoin each other, in a given period, in Cairo. The former embarked on the Red Sea, visited the most famous cities of India, as far as the Ganges; coasted, on his return, the shores of Persia, Arabia, and Africa as far as Mozambique, where he learned that the continent terminated in a great cape much farther to the south. He now returned to Cairo, where he heard of his companion’s death. He then visited Abyssinia, where he ultimately settled; but he wrote to the king, to whom he communicated the observations he had made, and a chart of the maritime places he had visited.

The discoveries of this enterprising man encouraged Joam to attempt the passage to India. One of the squadrons—that under Joam Alfonso de Aveiro—discovered the kingdom of Benin. Aveiro was to open a commercial treaty with the savage chief of this country, when death surprised him before he could accomplish the end of his expedition. The other, under Jayme Cam, was more fortunate. Crossing the equinox, he arrived at the mouth of a large river, the Sahira, on the coast of the Congo. Persuaded that the course of that river was navigable, he proceeded to explore its banks. The Congo was not the only kingdom which presented an opening for national exploration. While these events were taking place, Bemohi, the Mohammedan king of the Jalofs, a people inhabiting the coast opposite the Cape de Verd Islands, being dethroned by a prince of his family, escaped to Portugal, to implore the succor of Joam. He was baptized, sending submission to the pope, both for himself and his kingdom, and, besides consenting to hold his crown as a vassal of Joam, he proposed to open to the nation of his benefactor the way to Abyssinia and Egypt, and a commerce as extensive as it would be lucrative. Twenty ships laden with soldiers, priests, and architects, under Pedro Vas da Cunha, sailed from the ports of Lusitania, and arrived at the mouth of the Senegal. Here the unfortunate African was murdered by the hands of da Cunha. The motive of this dark deed is wrapped in mystery.

Though no paramount advantage was derived from the alliance with the Congo, the discoveries of Cam led to a solid one—that of the Cape of Good Hope. This memorable discovery was made in 1487 by Bartholomeo Diaz, an officer of equal enterprise and experience. The high winds and still higher seas which assailed 1487-1495 this vast promontory induced the captain to call it the Cape of Storms; but Joam, who had more extended views, called it O Cabo de Boa Esperança, or the Cape of Good Hope. On this occasion Diaz ventured little beyond the promontory; nor was it passed by any vessel until the following reign, when the famous Vasco de Gama doubled it on his voyage to India.

Like his predecessors, Joam was in frequent hostilities with the Moors of Fez. His first expedition was undertaken on the pretext of succoring his royal ally against two rebellious governors; but, in reality, he was incapable of generosity so pure. He triumphed over the two rebels, one of whom he took prisoner, but soon permitted him to be ransomed. The following year (1488) Antonio de Noronha, governor of Ceuta, with a considerable number of Portuguese nobles, was overpowered by a multitude of the Africans; but this shock was soon repaired by Francisco Coutinho de Borba, who had been intrusted with the government of Arsilla. Though an unsuccessful attempt was made to erect a fortress on Graciosa, a small island off the Mauritanian coast, Fernando de Menezes, governor of Ceuta, took Targa, and consumed by fire twenty of the Moorish vessels that lay in the port.

In 1490 Joam married his only legitimate son, Alfonso, to Isabella of Castile; but the rejoicings consequent on this event were almost the last he was permitted to seek. Before their conclusion the count passed from Evora to Viana, where one day he and two domestics were suddenly taken ill. The cause is wrapped in some mystery; but the general suspicion was that a fountain from which he and they had drunk was poisoned: their death, and his own tardy recovery, seem to confirm it. Scarcely were a few months elapsed, when the prince’s tragical death by a fall from his horse deprived Joam of his intended successor. The first shock of the catastrophe prostrated the vigorous mind of the king; for some time he refused to be comforted. To the condolence of his people, who gently reproved his grief, and who told him that for them he must live, since in each of them he had still a son, he replied, “The happiness of my subjects is, indeed, my only remaining consolation. I will labor for their good: but let them pardon me; nature is weak, and I am but a man.” The last three years of his life were passed in bodily infirmity, but not so severe as to exclude him from public affairs until a short time 1495-1497 before his death. His last moments were devoutly employed. At length, with difficulty uttering the prayer, “Domine, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere mihi!” he breathed his last.

Joam was a great prince; comprehensive in his views, vigorous in the execution of his designs, as he was cautious and politic in their formation; zealous for justice, and for the happiness of his people. That zeal, however, sometimes degenerated into vengeance, and was sometimes disarmed by capricious clemency. In short, the success of his administration was unrivaled; he introduced industry and comfort among his people, added largely to the national resources, and was in many respects the greatest monarch that ever swayed the scepter of Portugal.

Manuel, who succeeded Joam, having recalled the exiled princes of Braganza, and received the hand of Isabella of Castile, resolved to pursue the maritime enterprises of his great predecessor. A squadron of five vessels had been already prepared for the great passage to India; it was entrusted to the celebrated Vasco de Gama, who having received the standard of the cross from the hands of the new king, embarked amidst the acclamations and tears of the spectators, according as fear for the fate of kindred and friends, or hope for the country’s greatness, predominated in their breasts.^[28] His passage from the Cape de Verds to St. Helena occupied near three months; and before he could reach the Stormy Cape his crew were so disheartened by the continued winds and the high seas that they besought him to return. In vain did he exhort them to dismiss their cowardly fears, assuring them that they would soon arrive in more tranquil seas and off an abundant coast. Perceiving that he was bent on his purpose, they conspired against his life. This conspiracy was fortunately discovered by his brother, Paulo de Gama; the mutineers were ironed and confined, and the admiral himself took the helm. His courage was crowned with success. On the 20th day of November, 1497, near five months after his departure from Lisbon, he doubled the Cape. Continuing to coast along the African shores, he passed Sofala, and soon cast anchor off the coast of Zanzibar. The inhabitants of Mozambique he found to be Mohammedans, who abhorred the Christian name. The pilots, whom he with difficulty obtained to conduct him through these unknown 1497-1501 seas, endeavored to betray him into the hands of the Mohammedan king; but accident thwarted their views, and in revenge he cannonaded the port of Mombaza. At Melinda he met with better hospitality: not only did the Mussulman express a sincere desire to be considered the ally of Portugal, but he furnished a skillful pilot to conduct the stranger to the great Indian peninsula. Having a second time crossed the equinoctial line, he proceeded along the Arabian and Persian shores to Calicut, a rich and populous port on the coast of Malabar. Both he and his crew were not a little surprised to find merchants of Tunis and other ports of Barbary in this distant region—many who trafficked in every great port of India, of Africa, and of the Mediterranean. Having coasted the Indian peninsula, and finding that his armament was too inconsiderable to command respect, he returned to Melinda, received on board ambassadors from the king to his sovereign, doubled the Cape, April 26, 1499, and reached Lisbon in September, after an absence of little more than two years.

The reports of this renowned seaman inflamed Dom Manuel with the prospect of deriving considerable permanent advantage from the rich kingdoms of the East. A fleet of thirteen vessels was now prepared and confided to the direction of Dom Pedro Alvares Cabral. Being forced by a tempest, while passing the Cape de Verd islands, to direct his course somewhat more to the west than had been done by his predecessor, to his astonishment the new admiral discovered land. Having taken possession of the coast, and given it the name of Santa Cruz,—a name, however, which was soon afterwards changed into that of Brazil,—and dispatched a vessel to acquaint his monarch with the news, he continued his voyage: but in a second tempest he lost several of his ships. On anchoring before Calicut he was not unfavorably received, but the good understanding was of short continuance: at the instigation of the Moors the Christians were persecuted, and fifty massacred. In revenge Cabral consumed by fire the Indian and Arabian vessels in the port, of which he secured the cargoes, and committed horrible carnage among the enemy. He next proceeded to Cochin, from the governor of which, Trimumpara, he experienced more hospitality. He entered not merely into a commercial treaty, but into a close alliance with the royal Hindoo, who submitted to become the vassal of Dom Manuel, and who permitted some Portuguese to form a settlement on the coast. Having thus 1502-1504 laid the foundation of a commercial intercourse, and established factories, the admiral loaded some vessels with the choicest productions of the East, and returned without accident to Europe. Before his arrival, a smaller squadron had left Lisbon for the same destination: its chief success was defeating a fleet belonging to the Moors and the brutal king of Calicut.

The prospect of advantage, through the factories which had been established on the Indian and African coasts, encouraged Manuel to equip a more formidable expedition. With ten vessels, Vasco de Gama, who had been created admiral of the Indies, again undertook a voyage which was no longer considered dreadful. He was accompanied by his uncle, Vicente Sodre, who, with five vessels more, was ordered to protect the new factories while the admiral caused the Portuguese name to be respected by the zamorin and other enemies. His cousin, Estevan de Gama, had orders to follow him with four additional vessels, and the following year six more were dispatched into the same seas, three under Alfonso, and three under Francisco de Albuquerque. Having doubled the Cape, the first care of Vasco was to confirm the yet insecure influence of his country on the African coast, especially in Sofala and Mozambique. Off the coast of Malabar, Vasco had the good fortune to fall in with his relative, Estevan. His force now amounting to nineteen ships (one had been lost on the passage), he prepared to vindicate the authority of his master. His next feat was to take a large vessel, laden with treasure, belonging to the soldan of Egypt; the second, to punish the zamorin. At first, with characteristic perfidy, the royal Hindoo tried to inveigle the strangers into a net, spread to destroy them. The admiral detected the perfidy, and commenced a cruel retaliation. Leaving his uncle, Sodre, to continue the work of destruction, he proceeded to Cochin, and had the gratification to find the Portuguese factory there in a flourishing state. At Cranganor, about four leagues distant from Cochin, he was surprised to discover a society of Nestorian Christians, who, according to ancient tradition, were the descendants of the converts effected by the preaching of St. Thomas. These, to the number of 30,000, were eager to acknowledge the Portuguese king as their liege lord. While at Cochin he received an embassy from the zamorin, who entreated him to return to Calicut, that a permanent pacification might be effected between the two people. That he should be so credulous 1504-1509 as to rely on the protestation of such a man is surprising; but he immediately returned, was treated as before with much outward respect, and before he was aware of hostilities being intended, he was surrounded by above a hundred Moorish and Hindoo vessels. Had not Sodre, whom he had ordered to cruise off the coast, unexpectedly appeared in sight his destruction would have been inevitable; but with his kinsman’s aid he soon triumphed over the enemy. The zamorin now endeavored, by letter, to prevail on the king of Cochin to assassinate the Portuguese residents; but the latter disdained to imitate the treachery which had been shown to the admiral. As Vasco was on the point of returning to Europe, he left a few Portuguese for the defense of his ally, and ordered Sodre to protect him against the probable vengeance of the zamorin. The governor of Cananor was no less faithful to his engagements, and no less ready to defend them against the zamorin. Scarcely had Vasco left the coast for Africa, and Sodre to cruise in the Arabian Gulf, than the implacable Hindoo made preparation for war on Trimumpara. On four different occasions did the haughty Hindoo assail, by sea and land, the entrenchments of the Portuguese: in all four, if there be any faith in their historians, was he signally and ignominiously defeated.

The next considerable armament which the Portuguese king fitted out for these distant regions was confided to Dom Lope Soares: it consisted of thirteen vessels, carrying 1200 men. As the soldan of Egypt breathed vengeance against the nation which had taken one of his most valuable ships, and which had annihilated his lucrative traffic in the Indian seas, two vessels were dispatched, under Francisco de Almeida, who was nominated viceroy of the Indies. On his side, the soldan constructed a fleet, the materials for which were furnished by the Venetians. When Almeida touched at Quiloa, the king, Ibrahim, who had rendered himself obnoxious to the Portuguese, fled with precipitation from the city. Having received, as the representative of Dom Manuel, the homage of the new king, erected a fortress to overawe the inhabitants, and destroyed the town of Mombaza, which refused to submit, Almeida hastened to Cananor. There he received an embassy from the king of Bisnagar, who, in admiration at the renown of the Europeans, solicited their alliance. There, too, he built a fortress for the protection of the factory; and there he loaded eight vessels with the richest productions of the Indies, which he dispatched 1509-1515 to Portugal, and which, in their voyage discovered the great island of Madagascar. Thus, along the whole of the vast African continent, from the straits of Gibraltar to Abyssinia, and along the Asiatic, from Ormuz to Siam, the Portuguese flag waved triumphant.

Albuquerque, the new viceroy, commenced his rule by the invasion of Goa, one of the richest cities of Hindoostan. The inhabitants, unable to oppose a vigorous resistance, consented to receive a Portuguese garrison. This important city the viceroy resolved to make the capital of all Portuguese India. He now turned his eyes towards Malacca, from which he knew his countrymen had been recently expelled through the intrigues of the Moorish merchants. To revenge the indignity he repaired to that country, eluded the designs of the barbarian king, whom he subsequently defeated and dethroned, and whose capital he retained, notwithstanding the efforts of the inhabitants to shake off the yoke, or of their allies in their behalf. This conquest, and the triumphs by which it was followed inspired many of the neighboring sovereigns with fear. The viceroy having again visited the coast of Malabar, and increased alike the strength and number of his fortresses, sailed for Aden, in Arabia. On that almost impregnable place, however, his artillery had little effect, and he was twice compelled to raise the siege. In two years, however, he returned into those seas, less, perhaps, to reduce Aden than to conquer the island of Ormuz, now that its defenders, King Shiefedin and his minister, Atar, were dead. It was the object of Albuquerque to destroy the homage paid to the native kings, thereby securing the undivided superiority of his master; and he was anxious to construct a fortress for the purpose of overaweing a people generally prone to novelty. After investing the capital and establishing a blockade around the island, the viceroy demanded permission for the meditated construction—a permission which the terrified king hastened to grant. The citadel was soon finished, and thither was transported all the artillery belonging to the city; and the victor sent to Goa thirty princes of the royal house, who had been blinded on the accession of the present king. But for all his splendid services he was rewarded with envy and ingratitude. His abilities, his bravery, his successful administration, made the courtiers fear or pretend that he aimed at an independent sovereignty in those regions, and by their representations they prevailed on the king to recall him. Don Lope 1515-1517 Soares was dispatched from Lisbon to supersede him. But before his successor arrived he felt that his health was worn out in the service of his country; he made his last will, and returned from Ormuz to Goa to breathe his last sigh. As he proceeded along the coast he was informed of his supersession—in other words, of his disgrace—and the intelligence sank deep into his mind. This illness so much augmented, that finding his end approach, he wrote a few hasty lines to his sovereign, to whom, as the sole reward of any services he might have performed the state, he recommended the interests of a natural son. He died at sea, within sight of Goa. However violent some of his acts, he certainly administered justice with impartiality. If to this we add that the qualities of his mind were of a high order, that he was liberal, affable, and modest, we shall scarcely be surprised that, by his enthusiastic countrymen, he was styled the Great. It is probable that no other man would have established the domination of Portugal on so secure a basis: it is certain that no other, in so short a period, could have invested the structure with so much splendor. His remains were magnificently interred at Goa, and his son was laden with honors by the now repentant Manuel—the only rewards of his great deeds.

Under the successors of Albuquerque the administration of India was notorious for its corruption, imbecility and violence, and in the same degree as wisdom and justice were discarded, so did the military spirit decay. The local governors esteemed their offices only so far as ruined fortunes might be repaired or new ones amassed, and their only aim was to extort from the people the greatest possible sum in the shortest given time. One of the most important instructions received by Lope Soares was to annihilate the armada which the soldan of Egypt had prepared on the Red Sea. With a formidable armament he left Goa, and on reaching Aden found the inhabitants willing to submit with the condition of his defending them against Soliman, the Egyptian admiral. Though this was the most valuable station which the Europeans could have obtained in the Indian seas, the viceroy Lope declined the offer, on the pretext that he had no instructions in relation to it. Proceeding through the Straits of Babelmandeb, he was assailed by two dreadful tempests, which forced him to retire with loss—a loss increased by sickness and want of provisions. In this emergency he resolved to accept the proposal of the governor of Aden, whither he repaired; but he found the position of affairs greatly changed, and was glad 1517-1518 to take refuge in Ormuz. From this place he dispatched a vessel to Portugal to acquaint his sovereign with the complete failure of all his designs. During his absence Goa was nearly lost through the misconduct of its governor, who, listening to guilty passions instead of a just policy, had drawn a formidable army around it. The siege, however, was at length raised, partly through the valor of two Portuguese captains, who reinforced the garrison, and partly through the concessions made by the governor to the incensed enemy. In China a settlement was permitted to be made on the coast below Canton, but the violence of the Portuguese soon brought down the wrath of the celestial emperor, and occasioned their temporary expulsion. Factories were also established on the coast of Bengal, and in the Molucca Islands; but from the former the obnoxious strangers were in like manner expelled; and in the latter their footing was insecure. In 1518 the weak and vicious administration of Soares was replaced by that of Siqueira, which was not, however, to prove more fortunate. In the last year of Dom Manuel’s reign, this governor was replaced by Dom Duarte de Menezes.

The celebrated line of demarcation between the right of discovery and conquest was not so clearly understood as to avoid disputes between Dom Manuel and his brother-sovereign of Castile. His splendid empire in the east had long attracted the jealousy of Ferdinand, who had frequently attempted, but as frequently been deterred by his remonstrances, to share in the rich commercial advantages thus offered to the sister kingdom. After the death of that prince a disaffected Portuguese who had served Manuel with distinction both in Ethiopia and India, and who was disgusted with the refusal of his sovereign to reward his services with becoming liberality, fled into Castile, and told the new king, Charles V. of Austria, that the Molucca Islands, in virtue of that line, rightfully belonged to Spain. This man was Fernando de Magalhanes (Ferdinand Magellan) whose name is immortalized in the annals of maritime discovery. He proposed a shorter route to the Moluccas than the passage by the Cape of Good Hope—the route by Brazil: he well knew that the American continent must terminate somewhere, and his notion of the earth’s rotundity was sufficiently just to convince him that a western voyage would bring him to the same point as the one discovered by Diaz and Vasco de Gama. This proposal was submitted to the council of the Indies, which approved it, though Charles himself, on the remonstrances of the Portuguese 1519-1520 ambassador, affected to treat it with indifference. In August, 1519, Magellan embarked at Seville with five vessels, over the crews of which he was invested with the power of life and death. Directing his course by the Canaries he doubled Cape de Verde, passed the islands of that name, and plunged into the vast Western Ocean. On reaching the Brazilian coast he cautiously proceeded southwards, in the expectation that every league would bring him within sight of the final promontory. Nothing but the most ardent zeal, with the most unbending resolution, could have made him persevere in opposition alike to the elements and the wishes of his crew. The tall stature of the inhabitants of Patagonia struck him with some surprise, and perhaps magnified the fears of his companions; but he eventually passed this Land of Giants and in September, 1520, arriving at a cape which he called after the Eleven Thousand Virgins, he passed into the dreaded straits which bear his name. The severity of the weather—weather severer than a northern latitude twenty degrees higher—killed many of his crew. Having cleared the straits, he steered towards the equator, where he knew there was a milder air, and where he hoped to meet with provisions. As the squadrons proceeded through the boundless Pacific and no signs of land appeared, his crew not merely murmured, but conspired to destroy him and return to Spain. A few of the more desperate ringleaders he punished, but his soothing exhortations, and the chances he held forth that their fatigues would soon be over, secured the obedience of the rest. Though the American coast seemed too barren to yield any hopes of provisions, he dispatched one of his vessels in quest of them: instead of obeying the order, the captain, in the full conviction that Magellan was leading the crews to inevitable destruction, returned to Europe. At length, considering the absent vessel as forever lost, the adventurous navigator continued his course to the west, and after a passage of 1,500 leagues, unexampled for its boldness, he reached the Philippine Islands. Here closed his extraordinary career. Landing on the isle of Zebu, he was persuaded by the king to join in a warlike expedition against another petty ruler in the same cluster, and he fell, with many of his companions, by the hands of the barbarians. Of the five vessels which had left Spain, two only reached the Moluccas; and of these two, one only returned to Seville. But if the object of the expedition failed, through the catastrophe of its leader, he will be considered by posterity as by far the most undaunted and 1501-1513 in many respects the most extraordinary man that ever traversed an unknown sea.

His anxiety to found an empire in the East did not prevent the Portuguese king from attending to the affairs of northwestern Africa. In 1501 the king of Fez, at the head of a formidable army, assailed the governor of Tangier, who had just returned from a predatory excursion among the Moors; but he was so valiantly received by that officer that he turned aside to Arsilla, but with no better success. The excursions, however, of his captain from the fortress of Alcacer-Quibir to the gates of Arsilla were frequent, though, perhaps, less destructive than those of the Christians. In 1513 the Portuguese king equipped a more powerful armament than he had before raised, for the African coast. It consisted of 400 sail, carrying about 23,000 horse and foot; its destination was Azamor, and the command confided to the king’s nephew, the duke of Braganza. The expedition was crowned with complete success; the place was stormed and taken with little loss, and though the Moorish inhabitants fled, yet as the Christians entered they were soon allured to their habitations by the promises of the duke. Success so signal and so sudden surprised the Portuguese themselves, who loudly declared that nothing now remained to prevent them from marching on the city of Morocco. But the prudent general turned a deaf ear to their voices, on the ground that he could not exceed the tenor of his instructions; his chief reason, doubtless, was, that he would not risk the glory of his recent enterprise. Soon afterwards he embarked his troops and returned.

About this time a family arose in Africa, destined, in the process of time, to act a momentous part in the revolutions of these regions. The chief of a small village in the province of Dara, Mohammed ben Hamed by name, seeing the divisions of the Moors, and their consequent inability to resist the Europeans, formed the magnificent design of founding a new empire. As his state was obscure, and his possessions scanty, his object would only be effected by exciting and concentrating the fanaticism of the people. He boasted of his descent from the prophet, and changed his name into Xerif. His first step was to send his two sons on the pilgrimage to Mecca, an infallible road to reputation, and consequently to power. The everlasting burden of their complaint was the degeneracy of the faithful, and their constant encouragement that Allah would speedily raise up some chosen one to emancipate his people. In 1510-1515 1510, by the desire of their father, they repaired to the court of the king of Fez and offered to fight for the ancient law of their prophet. The offer was readily accepted; a squadron of horse was placed at their disposal, and with the title of royal alcaldes they commenced their career as missionaries and heroes. With the consecrated standard of the prophet borne before them, they proceeded through the country to persuade or to compel the Moorish vassals of Dom Manuel to throw off his authority and fight for the faith of Islam. It was owing more to their preaching than to the valor of their countrymen that this faith was not banished from this angle of Africa. When they began their orthodox labors the Portuguese were everywhere triumphant, and there was evidently no native Mohammedan prince capable of resisting their rapid progress. About the same time, too, a Christian detachment, under Ataide, moved on Tednest, where the father of the two saints had taken up his abode. They flew to his succor; and all three, with 4,000 horse, ventured to arrest the Portuguese chief, and his ally, Yahia ben Tafut. But their presumption was repaid by a precipitate flight before the victorious enemy, and by the loss of Tednest, with abundant spoil. The check caused by this defeat brought the eldest Xerif to the grave. Through the efforts of the two Xerifs, the kings of Fez, Morocco, and Mequinez prepared to combine their forces, and to march on Azamor; and to oppose this dreaded union the Christians and Aben Tafut effected a junction and succeeded in destroying a considerable body of the enemy. The kings of Mequinez and Fez, however, with an army too powerful to be assailed or withstood by the Christians, proceeded towards the coast; but Yahia retired into Saphin, though here his activity would not allow him to remain; he soon issued from the gates, hovered about the flanks of the king, annihilated one of the detachments, forced Nassir to retire, and persuaded a considerable body of the Moors to forsake him and renew their homage to Manuel. Yahia, who for his great services received a flattering letter from the Portuguese king, and was appointed captain-general of three powerful Moorish tribes submitted to the Christians, again advanced to the walls of Morocco, and took immense spoils in his ceaseless hostile incursions into the neighboring towns. But these triumphs were more than counterbalanced by an unsuccessful attempt to construct a citadel at the mouth of the River Mamora. An armament of 8,000 men, under Dom Antonio de Noronha, disembarked, and commenced the work; 1515-1521 but an immense host of Moors, under the kings of Mequinez and Fez, suddenly fell on them and annihilated one-half of the number. This was the heaviest loss ever sustained by the army of Dom Manuel.

The various warlike transactions which followed this failure are too uniform, alike in character and results, to merit detailing. At length the illustrious Yahia ben Tafut was treacherously slain while attending the funeral of a friend and accompanied by no more than three attendants. His troops, being assailed by the hostile Moors, were compelled to retreat on Saphin. The equally intrepid Ataide had been before killed by a Moor in one of his numerous inroads among the savage tribes bordering on Mount Atlas.

In the meantime the Xerifs were not idle: if their designs were impeded for a season, they were not always unsuccessful. They sometimes made destructive irruptions into the territory of the Christians; and, if sometimes made to retreat, they had the consolation of knowing that they had thinned the ranks of their prophet’s enemies, and that they were enriched by plunder. They had soon the glory of aiding the inhabitants of Morocco to repel an assault on that city by the too confident Christians. But their zeal was not always equaled by their valor, nor their merit by their rewards. Perceiving how slow their progress towards their great object, they abandoned the capital, and resolved to fight for themselves. A valley in the kingdom of Fez, about sixty square leagues in extent, yet with no other population than the village of Tarudante, seemed a fit situation for the foundation of an empire. There they settled, and the little village soon became a great city. They now proposed to the Moorish king the siege of Saphin, and offered for the enterprise both their troops and their personal service. The offer was eagerly accepted: they repaired to the capital with royal pomp, were received with suitable magnificence, and lodged in the palace. On the pretext of arranging the plan of the projected expedition, the elder Xerif requested a private interview with the king, to which three of the royal domestics were admitted. At that interview, the Moorish king was slain by the assassins, and the Xerif was proclaimed that very night king of Morocco. How fatal this revolution proved to the Portuguese empire in northern Africa will be seen in due course.

Dom Manuel did not long survive this change of dynasty: he died at the close of the year 1521, after one of the most glorious 1521 reigns on record. Of his public administration enough has been said; and of his private character what little we know is chiefly in his favor. He administered justice with impartiality, but the persecution of the unfortunate Jews is a deep stain on his memory. In a popular insurrection, however, headed by two monks, who stimulated the mob to murder that unfortunate race, he showed more justice. In every respect he was a great monarch, and his fame filled the world as much as his enlightened policy enriched his kingdom. He dispatched ambassadors to all the potentates of his time,—to the king of England, and the ruler of Abyssinia; to the royal chief of Congo, and the soldan of Egypt; to the sultan of Persia, and the emperor of China. His assemblies,—that, for instance, in which he displayed before the astonished pope and cardinals a Persian panther, and an Indian elephant, with their native attendants,—were distinguished by a magnificence suitable to the lord of so many regions.

Chapter XIV

THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA. 1516-1700

If, from the present period, the history of Spain were to be written at length, it would, in fact, be that of all Europe. But as neither the limits nor the design of the present work would admit so wide a range, our narrative must necessarily be confined to events purely Peninsular; or if others of a more general character are occasionally noticed, the reason will be that they are too closely connected with the former to be separated without violence.

During the last illness of Ferdinand of Aragon, Adrian, dean of Louvain, had been sent into Spain by the Archduke Carlos, the eldest son of Philip and Juana, and consequently heir of the monarchy, for the ostensible purpose of condoling with the sufferer, but in reality to spy out the position of parties, and to prevent the Archduke Ferdinand, brother of Carlos, from inheriting some advantages—among them the administration of the military orders—which the dying king had proposed to dismember from the crown. On that monarch’s death, in 1516, Adrian claimed the regency, but was justly resisted by the royal council, on the ground that Carlos was yet far from the age appointed for his majority by his grandmother’s will, and that he could not be allowed to exercise any authority in the government.

But Cardinal Ximines Cisneros, to whom the regency had been left by the deceased king, unwilling to make an enemy of his future sovereign, consented that Adrian should have a share in the administration. A letter of congratulation was next addressed to Carlos, who was invited to visit his new inheritance. In his reply he confirmed the cardinal in the regency. Soon afterwards he assumed the title of king, an assumption which gave considerable dissatisfaction. To save the rights of the mother, however, the latter was proclaimed at the same time, and her name even preceded her son’s—Doña Juana y don Carlos, regna y rey de Castilla, etc.

Thus commenced with Carlos I. the reign of the house of 1516-1517 Austria, or the Spanish Hapsburgs,—for the title of king was soon to be changed for that of emperor, and Carlos I. of Spain became Emperor Charles V.

The short administration of the cardinal—for Adrian was a cipher—was distinguished by great capacity, activity, and vigor. His first antagonist was the dethroned king of Navarre, Jean d’Albret, who, having assembled 20,000 followers, laid siege to St. Jean Pied de Port, while the marshal of Navarre crossed the Pyrenees. The duke of Najera, who had been created viceroy, easily triumphed over the undisciplined levies, and forced the unfortunate Jean’s retreat. Neither Jean nor his wife, Catherine de Foix, long survived this disaster. But the cardinal’s most bitter enemies were the nobles of Castile, who, envious of his dignity, displeased with his firmness, and hopeful of impunity under a young monarch, soon showed a disposition to refuse him obedience. Having assembled at Guadalaxara, in the house of the Duke del Infantado, they deputed three of their body to know by what authority he exercised his functions: he could not, they contended, derive it from Ferdinand, because that prince only exercised a delegated power; nor from Carlos, who could have no right to the sovereignty during the life of Juana. To this insulting representation the churchman listened with great composure, and promised that, if the three nobles would return the following day, he would exhibit the required powers. During the night he marched 2,000 armed men from their cantonments in the vicinity of Madrid and posted them in a tower of his house which he also flanked with artillery. When the deputies called, triumphantly pointing to the soldiers and guns, and to the treasures which he had purposely displayed in one of his apartments, he exclaimed, “Behold the powers by which I govern the kingdom!” The tone of superiority with which these words were uttered was not less galling than the words themselves, and the humbled though still indignant nobles fled from his presence. The cardinal was now drawing toward the close of life. Though he inhabited a palace his manners were as simple, his austerities as rigid, his self-mortification as complete, as they had ever been during his abode in the cloister. Active, laborious, just, blameless in morals, and assiduous in his secret devotions, his only relaxation was to dispute with a few schoolmen on the dark subjects of metaphysical theology. But no luster of virtues can dazzle envy, and care was taken to misrepresent his best measures. He wished to 1516-1517 discipline by military exercise the inhabitants of towns; both that, in case of invasion, the nation might have more numerous arms for its defense, and that by their means he might repress the rebellious designs of the nobles. Some towns received the novelty; others, pretending to regard it only as a prop to support his own personal authority, refused to obey him. Valladolid was the first to remonstrate; and, when remonstrance was found unavailing, to arm in defense of its privileges. Burgos and Leon next followed the example, and eventually Toledo, Avila, Segovia, and Salamanca. To punish the most guilty of these cities a body of royal troops was immediately put in motion. The inhabitants armed, and in such numbers as to prevent the meditated assault. The cardinal complained by letter to the king. The rebels sent a deputy to justify their conduct and to expose the oppressive character of the government.

Similar complaints were daily received at Brussels, until Carlos associated two other persons with the cardinal. But this expedient was useless: his commanding genius continued to direct the whole machine of administration; and, however unpopular he might be with a certain class, even that class preferred a native to a stranger at the head of the state. Besides, the rapacity of the Flemish governors, who exhibited the most unquenchable thirst for gold, and sold all offices over which they had any control to the highest bidder, filled the people with disgust. The dissensions of some powerful houses added to the difficulties of the regent: two disputed for the duchy of Medina-Sidonia, and two for the priory of St. John, and troops were necessary to keep them in check. Some other causes rendered the arrival of the king desirable. The popular discontent increased when they thought that the royal absence proved something like indifference to the rich inheritance which awaited him. Many, too, were justly displeased that the richest benefices were conferred on foreign favorites, who, bearing royal grants, flocked like locusts to various parts of the Peninsula. Sicily had not been less dissatisfied than Aragon. Carlos now perceived the necessity of his presence in Spain. In August he embarked at Middleburg, and in a month arrived within sight of Villaviciosa in the Asturias. The nobles and prelates now hastened to meet their sovereign; among the rest the venerable Ximenes. But that sovereign he was doomed to see no more: he suddenly sickened and died in Old Castile. By many his death was 1517-1518 believed to have been produced by poison, administered by some courtiers who dreaded the exposure of their own conduct, or that the influence he was likely to obtain over the royal mind would be still more fatal to the privileges of the aristocracy. Another account throws the guilt on the Belgians, but apparently with as little justice. At that time a pestilential disorder was raging in northern Spain, and Ximenes doubtless fell a victim to it. His loss to Spain was irreparable, for he departed when his counsel was most needed. To the learned world he is better known as the founder of the university of Alcala de Henares, and as the publisher of the Complutensian Polyglot, than as a minister. That this distinguished man had a great defect is apparent from his conduct in Granada. His unbending rigor and iron sternness of manner might inspire fear and respect, but never affection: no wonder that he made enemies on every side.

The Flemish locusts who accompanied the king instinctively settled on every inviting spot. From the archiepiscopal miter of Toledo, which was bestowed on the bishop of Cambray, a nephew of de Chièvres, the favorite minister, to the lowest officers of the administration and the church, everything was grasped by the avaricious strangers, or sold to the highest bidder. Fearful that the archbishop of Saragossa, the king’s uncle, might obtain the primacy, that prelate was not allowed access to the royal presence until the necessary bulls had been obtained from the pope. This favoritism so incensed the people that, when the states were convoked at Valladolid (July 4, 1518) to swear allegiance to the king, the deputies were instructed to insist on a previous oath from the throne—that thenceforward no stranger should be elected to any civil or ecclesiastical dignity in Leon or Castile. Though the ministers of the crown prevailed on the representatives to abandon the intention, they did so only from the assurance that the required promise should be made by Carlos. Homage was accordingly sworn, a supply of money granted by the deputies, and a council established, called the consejo de camara, to see that the royal briefs were issued only in favor of natives, and in other respects to control the royal revenues. From there Carlos proceeded to Saragossa, to sanction the laws of the kingdom and to receive its homage in return; but he found the Aragonese less tractable than even the Castilians. The states, which were duly opened in the archiepiscopal palace, warmly disputed whether he should be acknowledged 1518-1519 king, or regent only; contending that Juana was the rightful sovereign, and that he could only govern as her lieutenant. After some sharp debates, it was at length agreed that, as in Castile and Leon, he should be proclaimed in conjunction with his mother, and that, in case he had no issue, his brother Ferdinand should be acknowledged his successor. This second difficulty being removed by the Aragonese, he issued his writs for the convocation of the Catalan states at Barcelona. This province was no less tenacious of its will than the rest. The same obstacle was opposed to his recognition as count; but in the end it followed the example of the two kingdoms.

While the king remained at Barcelona an event happened destined to exercise great influence over his future life, over his hereditary states, in fact over all Europe. This was no other than his election to the imperial throne of Germany, now vacant by the death of his grandfather. It had been offered to the elector of Saxony, who, considering the vast preparations which the Turks were making for the subjugation of all Christendom, wisely declined it, and recommended to the diet the choice of Carlos, as the most powerful prince of his age and the only one capable of making head against the barbarians. Unfortunately, however, the disappointed ambitions of Francis I., king of France, a candidate also for the imperial diadem, who, in hatred of his successful rival, leagued with the enemy of the Christian faith, destroyed the advantage which the election was calculated to procure for Europe.

But this elevation, though it pleased, did not dazzle the Spaniards, so as to render them insensible to the conduct of their sovereign. To replenish the royal coffers, dignities continued to be sold, and, what was still more galling, chiefly to foreigners. With the view of arresting the evil, the provinces of Segovia and Avila resolved to form a confederation of the great towns for the defense of their undoubted privileges. Toledo, Cuenca, and Jaen soon joined the first two, and it was agreed that a deputation from the five should repair to the court to remonstrate against the abuse. The deputies performed their office. Being introduced to the emperor at Barcelona, they represented the discontent of Castile, on account not only of the abuse in question, but of his favoring with his residence Aragon and Catalonia, in preference to the ancient kingdom. The freedom of this remonstrance gave no offense: on the contrary, he promised that means should be used to satisfy his 1519 faithful towns. But this spirit was not long confined to Castile and Andalusia: a confederation was formed in Valencia, which threatened to be more formidable than the other, and which yet originated in accident. The plague visited the capital; the nobles fled from its ravages, leaving the city in possession of the people and magistrates. On the feast of St. Magdalen a Franciscan friar expatiated with great zeal on the turpitude of a crime which he averred was often practised in Valencia, and which had drawn down the vengeance of heaven, in the shape of pestilence, on that devoted capital. His discourse roused the people, who, resolved that the guilty should not escape, hastily ran to arms, and proceeded to take justice into their own hands. In vain did the local authorities endeavor to repress the tumult. Certain of the accused were actually put to death by the populace, and the governor ordered strict inquiries to be made for the ringleaders, and stationed a considerable force to overawe the mob. Alarmed at the fate which awaited them in the event of apprehension, the really guilty had influence enough to organize another confederation. By proclaiming the near invasion of the Moors,—by holding out to the peasantry the prospect of escape from the oppression of the nobles, and to all the defense of their privileges and a more equitable imposition of the national burdens,—they prevailed on the various trades to combine, each under its own captain. They were told that, if they wished for redress, they must bind themselves by oath to act in concert, that each trade should elect a syndic, and that the thirteen syndics thus chosen should be empowered to act for the whole body. The proposal was tumultuously embraced: the new authorities were chosen; and a deputation waited on the emperor at Barcelona, requesting his sanction to their proceedings. The two objects which they ostensibly put forward as the cause of their confederation,—the defense of the kingdom against an expected invasion and the limitation of the aristocratic tyranny,—seemed specious enough; but they owed the favor with which they were received to the circumstances of the times. The determination of the nobles not to do homage unless the king came personally to Valencia, and of the clergy not to grant the tithe of ecclesiastical revenues, had greatly exasperated him. He allowed the trades to remain in arms, exhorting them only to do nothing without the consent of the governor, and in all cases to be regulated by moderation and by due regard for the laws.

The emperor had soon reason to repent of this concession. When, after the cessation of the plague, the nobles returned to1520 Valencia, they found the city in possession of an armed, insolent, and lawless mob. Their representation caused him to issue a decree that the inhabitants should lay down their arms. To procure its revocation, four citizens were deputed by the confederation to wait on him at Barcelona; but though they artfully expatiated how necessary their body was for the defense of the kingdom, they would never have attained their object had not the states, by a new refusal to acknowledge him without his presence in the Cortes, angered Carlos still more than on the former occasion. His resentment prevailed, and the deputies returned in triumph to their countrymen. But at this period it was his misfortune to make enemies on every side. As the constitution of Valencia required that he should be present to fulfill the compact with his people, he should, doubtless, have hastened thither, and, by yielding prompt obedience to the laws, have removed all pretext for rebellion. The same imprudence, the same disregard of established custom, made him summon the Cortes of Castile and Leon to meet him at Santiago, a thing never before attempted by the most arbitrary of his predecessors. To the murmurs produced by this innovation the ministers paid no attention: on the contrary, they did all they could to fan the flame of discontent, by interfering in the return of the deputies, and by bribing such as they could not nominate to submit in everything to the royal will. If to these just causes of dissatisfaction we add the conviction entertained by all that a large grant of money would be required from the Cortes, not for any national object, but to gratify the vain splendor of their monarch, and to be wholly expended among foreigners, we shall not be surprised at the opposition which was now rapidly organized to his will. Toledo displaced the deputies whom it had chosen, and nominated others more submissive to the popular voice. It next prevailed on some other towns to join in insisting on the following concessions: That the king should not leave Spain; that he should require no subsidy; that, instead of conferring dignities on foreigners, he should deprive the possessors of those which they actually held; that no money, under any pretext whatever, should leave the kingdom; that offices should cease to be venal; and that the Cortes should be assembled, according to ancient custom, in some town of Leon or Castile, not in an angle of Galicia. Most of these demands 1520 were reasonable enough, but the first two were insulting, and all were sure to be highly unpalatable to the court. The deputies who bore them waited on Carlos, now at Valladolid, on his way to Galicia, and sought to obtain an audience. Carlos now hastened towards Galicia, the Toledan deputies closely following him, and at every town requesting an audience; but the king refused to see them until they reached Santiago.

On the first day of April the states were opened in the convent of San Francisco. The speech from the throne laid stress on the necessity of the king’s immediate voyage to Germany, on the expenses with which it would be attended, as well as on that which had been incurred in preparations for war with the infidels, and ended by demanding a gratuity. For a moment the deputies were silent; but those of Salamanca rose, and protested that they could not take the accustomed oath of allegiance unless the king would comply with the demands which had been presented to him. They were immediately supported by a deputy of Toledo, who asserted that, rather than consent to anything prejudicial either to the city he represented or to the kingdom, he would sacrifice his life. Emboldened by the example, the delegates of Seville, Cordova, Zamora, Toro, and Avila joined with the three, and the business of the assembly was for some days interrupted. Nothing can better show the degraded state in which the Cortes were held, and the power which the crown had been accustomed to exercise over the proceedings,—debates were unknown among them,—than the next step of the king: it was no less than to order the Toledan deputies, the most violent of the party, to leave the court. In vain did they petition—they were compelled to obey. When the news reached Toledo the population was in an uproar, and their anger still further inflamed by the arrest of two of their magistrates, Juan de Padilla and Fernando Davalos. The states were now transferred to Coruña, where, with some reluctance,—so effectually had the royal influence been exercised in the interim,—a considerable subsidy was granted to the monarch. The great cities, however, refused to sanction it, and even the few deputies who voted it accompanied it by requests exceedingly obnoxious to the court. Anxious to take possession of the brilliant dignity which awaited him, and perhaps to escape from so troubled a kingdom, Carlos closed the Cortes, and prepared to embark. He left the regency of Castile to Cardinal Adrian; of Aragon, to Don Juan de Lanuza; of Valencia, 1520 to the Conde de Melito; and he intrusted the command of the troops to approved officers. The choice of Adrian, a foreigner, was peculiarly offensive to the nobles and deputies at court: they solicited another; but Carlos, who generally adhered to his plans with uncommon tenacity, refused to change. In May he embarked, and proceeded to England, to concert with Henry VIII. the means of humbling the power of the French king.

The departure of the king was not likely to assuage the turbulence of the times. If the opposition, so long as it was constitutionally exercised, was just, and even laudable, it had now degenerated into rebellion, and patriotism been succeeded by schemes of personal ambition.

Unfortunately for the interests of order, the regency was held by a man, estimable and virtuous indeed, but little fitted for such a crisis. The insurrection spread to other cities and towns, from Jaen to Leon, and from Murcia to Badajoz: everywhere was obedience to the laws withheld, and the government insulted; everywhere were plunder, rape, and murder triumphant.

The next proceeding of the rebels was distinguished for more boldness and for something like originality. At the head of the troops furnished by Toledo, Medina del Campo, and other places, and accompanied by two other chiefs, Padilla proceeded to Tordesillas to gain possession of the imbecile Juana. He demanded and obtained an audience, expatiated on the evils which had befallen the kingdom since the death of the Catholic sovereigns, her parents, and said that her son had abandoned the kingdom to its fate; he ended by informing her that he placed the troops of Toledo, Madrid, and Segovia at her disposal. For a moment the queen seemed to have regained the use of her faculties; she replied that she had never before heard of her father’s death; that if she had, she would not have permitted the disorders which prevailed; that she desired the weal of the kingdom, and that on Padilla, in quality of captain-general, she devolved the duty of restoring public tranquillity. Her rational manner of discourse made the deputies hope that she had been restored to sanity; they did homage to her as their sovereign queen; and in her name the representatives of the confederation were brought from Avila to Tordesillas. By issuing all decrees in her name and by her authority, they hoped to give legitimacy to their own. But she almost instantly relapsed into her former lethargy, a circumstance, however, which they carefully concealed 1520-1521 from the world. Emboldened by the success of their enterprise, and by the number of armed men who daily joined them, they now resolved to subvert the power of regent and council, and even to arrest the members.

In this critical position of the royal cause it was fortunate that Aragon, Catalonia, and most of Andalusia stood aloof from the confederation. Aragon, indeed, was subsequently troubled for a moment, through an organized opposition to the viceroyalty of Lanuza; but tranquillity was restored without much difficulty. Seville, Cordova, Xeres, and Granada either returned, without condescending to open, the proposals of that body, or reproached it for its excesses. The rebellious towns no less persevered in their career of violence. Burgos expelled one of the regents, who narrowly escaped with his life, and the confederacy of Tordesillas ordered all three not only to resign their authority, but to appear and answer for their conduct. It was evident that nothing less than civil war could decide the problem whether the king or the mob should exercise the government. The constable began to act with vigor, to collect his own vassals, and to summon all who held for the sovereign and the laws to join him; and he borrowed money from Don Manuel, of Portugal, to support his levies. The cardinal, too, seemed to awake from his imbecile inactivity, and the admiral went from place to place to rouse the sparks of slumbering loyalty. The result showed what might have been accomplished earlier by an active combination of the royalist party; about 8,000 well-armed men soon repaired to Rioseco. The extent of the preparations and the expostulations of the constables prevailed on Burgos to withdraw from the confederacy. While a desultory warfare followed, generally favorable to the royalists, Valencia was the undivided prey of anarchy; here damning deeds were committed, which threw into the shade the horrors of Castile and Leon. The thirteen syndics first endeavored to oppose the entrance of the viceroy: and when this was found impossible, they artfully misrepresented his actions, organized a determined opposition to his authority, overawed the administration of justice, rescued the most notorious criminals from execution, openly attacked his house, and at length expelled him from the city. The consequences, not in the capital only, but in the towns, might have been easily anticipated. All who were hostile to the present order of things were pursued with vindictive rage: they were even sacrificed at the altar, their wives violated, their children 1521-1522 put to death before their eyes, the priests themselves dragged from their sanctuary, and the holy sacraments trod under foot. In short, there was no species of crime left uncommitted.

But, fortunately for humanity, evil has its climax as well as good, and the descent in the former case is even more rapid than in the latter.

The success of the royalists in Leon and Castile had little effect on the desperate rebels of Valencia. That city, like other towns of the kingdom, continued in the hands of a furious mob, who loudly proclaimed that no clergy should be maintained, no taxes hereafter paid, no civil government supported, since all were violations of natural liberty. The thirteen syndics themselves were treated with contempt.

These troubled scenes were not the only evil experienced by the Spaniards at this season: they were afflicted by that of foreign invasion. Knowing that the forces of the kingdom were occupied in extinguishing the flames of rebellion, the French king thought this a favorable opportunity for vindicating the claim of Henri d’Albret to the throne of Navarre. A formidable army advanced under André de Foix, seized on St. Jean Pied de Pont, passed by Roncevaux, invested and took Pamplona, and, as the country had no fortresses to defend it, it became the easy prey of the enemy. Had the French been satisfied with this success, and erected fortresses to defend their conquest, the throne of Navarre might have been restored; but the general, in accordance, as is believed, with an understanding with the rebels of the confederation, invaded Castile and invested Logroño. The place made a gallant defense so as to allow the duke of Najera to advance with reinforcements. On his approach the siege was precipitately raised, the French were pursued, were signally defeated,—6,000 of their number remaining on the field, their artillery lost, and many officers captured, among whom was the general in chief, André de Foix: probably a still greater number perished in the pursuit. The kingdom was regained with greater facility than it had been lost. No sooner did Francis hear of this signal failure than, anxious to vindicate the honor of his arms, he dispatched a second army, under the Grand Admiral Bonnivet. On this occasion the invaders took Fuentarabia, after a gallant defense, but on the approach of the Spanish general, Don Bertram de la Cueva, they retreated to Bayonne. They returned indeed to resume hostilities on the frontier; but were driven back 1522-1527 with serious loss by that general. In 1524 Fuentarabia was recovered by the emperor.

In July, 1522, the emperor, whose presence had been so often requested by the royalists, arrived in Spain. Early in the same year the Cardinal Adrian had been invested with the pontifical crown. The two coregents, the admiral and the council, whose efforts had so fortunately extinguished the flames of rebellion, met him at Santander to congratulate him on his arrival and to acquaint him fully with the state of the country. Having visited his mother at Tordesillas, he hastened to Valladolid, where his presence was naturally dreaded. It was expected by all that summary justice would be inflicted on those who had taken a prominent part in the recent disturbances; but clemency was the basis of his character, and on this occasion he exercised it to an extent, perhaps, unparalleled in history.

During the remainder of this prince’s reign the domestic tranquillity was undisturbed, save by an insurrection of the Moors. The Inquisition laid hold of the opportunity for indulging its propensity to blood, and autos de fe blazed throughout Valencia.

Into the interminable wars of this sovereign,—in other words, into his transactions as emperor of Germany,—this compendium cannot enter. Those in Italy, Germany, and France must be sought in the general histories of the time. We may mention that of two expeditions to the African coast, to humble, if not to extirpate, the Mohammedan pirates, one was successful, the other disastrous—the latter a casualty occasioned by a tempest; that he compelled the Grand Turk, who penetrated into the center of Europe, to retreat; and that at the battle of Pavia he made his great rival, Francis I., prisoner. His behavior to that monarch was neither dignified nor liberal: anxious to derive the utmost advantage from circumstances, he exacted, as the price of liberation, conditions which, after long hesitation, Francis signed, but with a protest that they should not be binding. Accordingly, the French monarch was no sooner in his own dominions than he openly evaded them and again tried the fortunes of war; but he could never—not even by his alliance with the Lutherans and the Turks—obtain any advantage over his great rival.

In 1525 Carlos married the Princess Isabel, sister of Joam III., king of Portugal. The issue of this union in 1527 was, besides two daughters, the infante Philip, destined to be no less famous 1527-1554 than himself. For this son he endeavored to procure the imperial crown of Germany, but his brother Ferdinand, who had been elected king of the Romans, would not forego the dignity, nor would the electors themselves favor the pretensions of the young prince. In 1554, however, he procured for Philip the hand of Princess Mary; and that the marriage ceremony might be performed with more splendor, he invested him with the regal title by abdicating in his favor his Italian possessions—the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily, and the duchy of Milan. This was not enough: he was preparing to abdicate the whole of his immense dominions, and to retire forever from the world.

From the prime of life the emperor appears to have meditated his retreat from the world. One of his German biographers tells us that the design was formed thirty years before its execution. Sandoval states that both he and the empress, who died in 1539, had agreed to retire into the cloister. That he acquainted St. Francis Borgia with his extraordinary resolution as early as 1542 is indisputable from the relation of the prior of St. Justus, in whose monastery he ended his days. In 1555 the death of his mother, Queen Juana, made him decide on the immediate fulfillment of his long-cherished project. For this step, indeed, other reasons might be given. Though only fifty-six, his frame was greatly enfeebled,—the result alike of constitutional weakness and of incessant activity; and he was subject to grievous attacks of the gout, no less than to other acute pains. But the chief cause of his retreat must be traced to his religious temperament, which, even when ambition was most powerful and health least affected, was honorably conspicuous.

Having concluded a truce with Henry, the successor of Francis,—a truce, however, which the perfidy of the Frenchman and the ambition of the pope rendered of short duration,—and recalled Philip from England, the emperor assembled at Brussels the states of the Netherlands. There, amidst the most imposing solemnity ever witnessed since the days of the Roman Caesars, he resigned the sovereignty of the Low Countries, which he had inherited from his father, the Archduke Philip, into the hands of his son. His conduct on that occasion was distinguished by dignity and affection—affection no less for his Flemish subjects than for Philip. Never did sovereign meet his people under circumstances of such interest; never did one leave them with more of their reverence or of their 1554-1558 regret. In a few weeks after this august ceremony Charles, in one no less imposing, resigned the crown of Spain and the dominions dependent on it both in the Old and New World. The imperial crown he still retained, with the view of once more negotiating with his brother Ferdinand in behalf of his son; but in a few months afterwards he dispatched the instrument of resignation from his monastic retreat.

Having taken an affectionate leave of his son, Charles, accompanied by his two sisters, the dowager queens of France and Hungary, embarked in Zealand, the 17th of September, and landed at Laredo in Biscay, the 28th of the same month. The place which he had chosen for his retreat was the monastery of St. Justus, one of the most secluded and delightful situations in Estremadura. He reached his destination in November, 1557, and there, in solitude and silence, he buried the vast schemes which had so long agitated Europe.

The manner of life followed by this great prince in his retirement was exceedingly simple. His chief exercises were those of devotion: he observed, as far as his infirmities would permit, the rule of the order (Hermits of St. Jerome) with as much scrupulosity as if he had contracted the obligation by vow. In pursuing the monastic life of the imperial penitent it is difficult to believe that he preserved at all times his mental sanity. He used the discipline with such severity that he was often covered with gore; and he expressed his regret that, owing to his bodily infirmities, he could not incur the additional mortification of sleeping in his clothes. St. Francis de Borgia, who had exchanged a ducal coronet for the coarse mantle of the Jesuits, and who visited him in his retirement, observed, with more justice than we should have expected from an enthusiast, that he should comfort himself by reflecting how many nights he had passed under arms in the service of Christendom, and should thank God for having thereby done what would be more acceptable in the sight of heaven than could be performed by many monks in their cells. All hope of recovery being abandoned, he confessed daily; and at length caused the extreme unction to be administered to him by the prior, just as was practised with the monks, some of whom were by his couch, joining him in repeating the penitential psalms. One evening he grew worse. After midnight, perceiving that all around him were wrapped in melancholy silence, he said, “My hour is come! Give me that taper and crucifix!” 1558 He took the lamp with one hand, the crucifix with the other, and after gazing for some time on the holy symbol of salvation, he exclaimed, in a voice loud enough to be heard in the neighboring cells “Jesus!” at the same moment surrendering his soul to God.

Thus ended the life of the most powerful sovereign Europe had seen since the days of Charlemagne. Emperor of Germany, king of Spain, Naples, and Sicily, duke of Milan, lord of the Netherlands and of the Indies, his sway stretched over most of Europe, and a vast portion of the American continent. His talents were unquestionably of a high order, not naturally, but by culture: no sovereign was ever more cautious in forming, or persevering in the execution of his plans; and none had ever a clearer insight into the character of man. To civil or religious liberty he was no friend: doubtless the experience which he had had of the communeros in Spain and the Lutherans in Germany rendered the names of freedom and dissent odious, and more closely attached him to the maxims of despotism and the infallibility of the church. That religion was a momentous affair in his eyes is proved from the fact that he could pardon rebellion, but never dissent. He did not, like his rival, Francis, court the Protestants in one country while he burned them in the other, nor did he call the barbarians of Turkey into the heart of Christian Europe. In every respect he was superior to that vain and unprincipled monarch, who, to gratify a selfish ambition, would have sacrificed everything to it, and who had little of the boasted honor ascribed to him by Gallic historians. Tortuous as was sometimes the policy of the emperor, he never, like Francis, acted with treachery; his mind had too much of native grandeur for such baseness. Sincere in religion and friendship, faithful to his word, clement beyond example, indefatigable in his regal duties, anxious for the welfare of his subjects, and generally blameless in private life, his character will not suffer by a comparison with that of any monarch of his times. Its only serious blemish—always excepting his despotic maxims, and his persecution of dissenters, which we cannot contemplate without execration—was his amours with two foreign ladies, by whom he had two natural children—Margarita, married first to Alexander de Medicis, next to Octavio Farnese; and Don Juan, surnamed of Austria, celebrated for his victories over the Mohammedans.

Meanwhile his legitimate son and successor had already reigned 1555-1559 as Philip II. of Spain since his father’s abdication in 1556. The two chief policies of his rule were evidenced from the start: the restoration of the Roman Catholic religion and the unifying into one despotic government his various dominions.

But immediately after the resignation by the emperor of Naples and Sicily in favor of Philip, the duke of Alva, was sent to protect that kingdom against the secret enmity of the pope and the open hostility of the French. Paul IV., who was bound with the tiara in 1555, was as favorable to France as he was hostile to her rival; a disposition in no small degree owing to the representations of his unprincipled nephew, Cardinal Caraffa, who, though a Neapolitan, had always held the Spanish sway in detestation, and was become the creature of Henry III. The papal displeasure was signalized by the arrest of the Spanish ambassador, and by the citation of Philip, whom, as king of Naples, Rome considered as its vassal. Confiding in the promises of France, Paul in full consistory declared Philip deprived of the Neapolitan throne. The duke of Alva, aware how unpopular such a war would be with the bigots of his communion, endeavored to incline the pontiff to peace by concessions which would have satisfied any other sovereign; but seeing them haughtily rejected, he put his troops in motion, entered the papal states, and seized on several fortresses. The Eternal City began to tremble for its security, and was forcing Paul to negotiate with the victor, when, notwithstanding the truce concluded by the emperor, a French army under the duke of Guise advanced, and hostilities were continued. On another part of the frontier the truce was broken at the same time by the admiral, Coligny, governor of Picardy, who made an unsuccessful attempt on Douay. Philip himself inflicted so severe a blow on the French at St. Quentin, that Henry, in great consternation, recalled the duke of Guise. The pope was accordingly left at the mercy of the duke of Alva, who advanced on Rome, and forced him to purchase peace by withdrawing from the French alliance. As Turkey was banded with the unscrupulous Frenchman, that alliance was little honorable to the head of the church. At this very time the Ottoman fleet was ravaging the coast of Calabria, whence it retired with great booty and many captives. The duke of Alva, whose presence was required in Flanders, was for a season replaced in the viceroyalty of Naples by the marquis of Santa Cruz. In 1559 peace was made with France, and Philip, who, by the death of Mary 1565-1572 of England, was a widower, confirmed it by marrying Elizabeth, sister of the French king.

But if this peace freed Naples from the hostilities of the French it could not arrest the frequent depredations of the Turks. In general, however, these depredations led to no result, the Mohammedans retiring before the Spanish forces. But in 1565 the Sultan Solyman equipped a powerful armament, both for the conquest of Malta, which the Emperor Charles had conferred on the knights of St. John, and for the invasion of the Spanish possessions on the Continent. The details of the wonderful siege sustained by those military monks must be sought in the histories of the order. It is not easy to account for the apathy apparently shown by Philip towards their cause, especially after ordering the viceroy of Sicily to defend them. However this be, after the most gallant defense on record, when nearly two-thirds of the assailants and most of the defenders were cut off, about 10,000 Spaniards were landed on the island and the siege was raised; but the Turks did not re-embark until they had sustained a defeat. In 1570 the war between the Venetian republic and the Porte again brought the Spaniards into collision with the latter power, Rome, Venice, and Spain having confederated for the common defense of Christendom. The combined fleet assembled at Messina, and resolved to assail the formidable armament of the sultan. In the celebrated battle which followed (that of Lepanto), the papal galleys being headed by Marco Antonio Colonna, the Venetians by Doria, and the Spaniards by Don Juan of Austria, a splendid victory declared for the Christians; 30,000 of the enemy were killed in the combat, 10,000 were made prisoners, while four-fifths of the vessels were destroyed or taken.

In France, meanwhile, the jealousy which had actuated the emperor and Francis was transmitted to their heirs. Philip, however, had no intention to break the truce which it had been one of his father’s latest acts to procure; but as before observed, the hatred of the pope and the faithlessness of Henry forced him into the war. Assisted by the troops of his consort, Mary of England, Philip invaded France, and his generals laid siege to St. Quentin, while the duke of Alva, as before related, vigorously defended Italy against a French army under the duke of Guise. The constable, accompanied by the martial chivalry of the country, hastened to relieve St. Quentin; but under the walls of that fortress he sustained a disastrous defeat, which was followed by the surrender of the place. 1572 Mary had little reason to congratulate herself on her impolitic quarrel with Henry; she lost Calais, and two smaller forts,—all that remained of the English possessions in the country,—and died before the conclusion of the war. So far was Philip from indemnifying his ally for the loss sustained, that, four months after her decease, he made peace with France, and confirmed it by a new marriage.

For many years after this event the two monarchs remained outwardly in peace, but inwardly agitated by jealousy or ill-will: France had reason to dread the ambitious views of the Castilian; and the latter was far from satisfied with the secret encouragement afforded by the French Protestants, with the full connivance of the court, to their brethren of the Low Countries, who were striving to shake off the Spanish yoke. The troubles which distracted the Gallic kingdom during the wars of the League afforded Philip an opportunity which he had long coveted, of interfering in the affairs of that kingdom, ostensibly in support of the Roman Catholic faith, but quite as much for his own advantage. As the protector of the League, he at first furnished the rebels with money, and subsequently ordered the governor of the Netherlands, the prince of Parma, to invade the country, and to effect a junction with them. But the abilities of Henry IV., and the valor of his Protestant adherents, the assistance of Elizabeth, queen of England, and, above all, his conversion to the established faith, rendered the combined efforts of Spaniards and Leaguers of no ultimate avail.

But by far the most important of the wars of Philip were with his revolted subjects of the Low Countries. Soon after his accession he learned that the Reformation had made alarming progress in these provinces, and he resolved to extirpate it. His bigotry to the ancient religion, his stern, we may add cruel, character, caused him to prefer violent to persuasive measures. A little reflection might have convinced him that he could never succeed in his object, and that by the bare attempt he would risk the security of his government. His repulsive manners, his arbitrary measures, and the manifest preference which he gave to his Spanish subjects, soon estranged both Flemings and Dutch from his person. To his father, whose demeanor was marked by unwonted condescension, and who really loved them, they had been devotedly attached. Though the emperor was no less a bigot than the son—though from 1521 to 1555 no fewer than 50,000 Protestants are 1556-1559 said to have perished by fire or sword,—the Roman Catholics were by far the more numerous party, and ready to support him in his bloody proscriptions. In his resolution of extirpating the Protestants the king commenced by giving new vigor to his decrees; and to insure their execution he created a new tribunal, with powers similar to those of the ancient Spanish inquisition, to take cognizance of heresy. Both measures were obnoxious to the people, not merely to the secret Protestants, but to the Catholics, who were subjected to new impositions to defray the expense of both. Philip, who had extravagant notions of the royal power, paid no regard to murmurs which he was resolved to stifle by force. As Spain demanded his presence, he intrusted the regency to his natural sister, Margarita, duchess of Parma, a princess devoted to his will.

After the king’s departure the regent put the obnoxious edicts into execution, and the blood of martyrs moistened the soil of the Low Countries. Her natural disposition was doubtless averse to cruelty; but she was governed by Cardinal Granvelle, a furious zealot, to whose suggestions, as they were strictly in conformity with the instructions of Philip, she was almost compelled to defer. The native nobles who formed the council of regency were not a little chagrined to find their voices powerless; that measures were framed not only without their consent, but without their knowledge; and they resolved to remove the odious churchman. Among these were two of more than ordinary consideration; William, prince of Orange, and Count Egmont; the former governor of Holland, Zealand, and Utrecht—the latter of Artois and Flanders. Both could boast of great services; both were actuated by no ordinary degree of ambition; both had aspired, and probably now aspired, to the regency. With the view of regaining the influence they so much coveted, they complained bitterly in their letters to the king of the cardinal’s measures, which they declared would produce a general rising in the provinces, unless their author were speedily recalled. Philip paid no attention to the representation: he suspected, what was probably the truth, that William, who had married a Protestant princess, was no longer of the ancient religion, that the count participated in the new opinions, and that both were in consequence naturally averse to witness the persecution of their sect. The cardinal, indeed, had few of the qualities which command esteem: haughty in his manners, and inflexibly bent, both from principle and mistaken duty, on the execution of his measures 1559-1565 for the destruction of the reformed religion, he listened to no representations, but with a blind obstinacy persevered in his dangerous career. The decrees of the council of Trent—decrees written in blood—were ordered to be executed with even increased severity by some bigoted counselors. The manner in which they were received by some of the local magistracy, and the murmurs raised against them even by the more sensible Catholics, made a deep impression on the regent. In the fear—certainly no ill-grounded one—that a widespread insurrection would be the result, she dispatched Count Egmont to Madrid to represent the exact position of affairs to the king. He was politely, and even honorably, received by Philip, who, however, would not deviate from the policy that had been so unfortunately commenced. A confederacy was now formed, professedly to prevent the introduction of the dread inquisition, but in reality to procure uncontrolled liberty of conscience, or to throw off the Spanish yoke. It was headed by Philip de Marnix, lord of St. Aldegonde; but though the three nobles before mentioned were not members, they were the soul of its proceedings. In a short time such numbers acceded to it that the regent was compelled either to raise an army or to relax in her persecution: as none of the great barons would take the command, she adopted the latter expedient. Unfortunately for the reformed cause, this concession did not produce the benefit it ought to have done. Emboldened by their numbers, and still more by their recent triumph, the lower class of Protestants rose in several of the towns to inflict on the Roman Catholics what they themselves had suffered; perhaps more still were incited by the hope of plunder. This was but the beginning of horrors: a furious organized band, amplified as it went along, hastened to the neighboring towns; and, if the relations of Catholic writers are to be believed, soon laid waste four hundred sacred edifices. Even at Ghent, the seat of Count Egmont’s government, churches were pillaged, and libraries consumed by fire, without any opposition from him. During the three ensuing days the same disorders abounded; the churches and monasteries were profaned, and the great libraries committed to the flames. These excesses were committed by a handful of men: their number seldom reached one thousand,—a proof that their proceedings were tacitly connived at by the local authorities. At length the Protestant nobles, ashamed of these horrors, and convinced how much prejudice they must do to the cause, assisted the regent to 1566-1598 restore tranquillity, and their efforts were soon crowned with success.

When Philip received intelligence of these events, he called a council, which, after some deliberation, resolved that an army should be sent to extirpate heresy by open force. Its command was intrusted to the duke of Alva, whose relentless disposition seemed well adapted for the task. His powers were much more ample than those of a general-in-chief: they went so far as to control the authority of the regent. His arrival spread great consternation in the provinces; the more so, when counts Egmont and Horn were arrested (Prince William, too wise to await him, had fled into Germany); and the regent, finding that she was in fact superseded, resigned her authority, and returned into Italy. Many thousands, in dread of the approaching persecution, fled into the Protestant states of Europe; to no country more readily than to England. It was severe enough to fill all the Protestant states of Europe with concern, and even to draw forth expostulation from several Catholic. How little such remonstrance availed with either the king or his viceroy appeared from the execution of the counts Egmont and Horn, and from the confiscation of Prince William’s possessions. Their death made a deep impression on the people, who began to turn their eyes towards the prince of Orange, whom they requested to arm in behalf of his suffering country. William was sufficiently inclined, both by love of liberty and personal ambition, to make the attempt. He and his brothers had for some time been making preparations,—raising money and troops in the Protestant states of Germany, and collecting the exiles who had fled from the scaffold.

To enter into the details of the interminable wars which followed, from 1568 to 1598, would little accord either with the limits or the design of this history: we can allude only to the prominent events. Success was for some time a stranger to the arms of the prince and his allies. Though at the opening of the first campaign Louis of Nassau, brother of the prince, defeated the Spanish general, Count Aremberg, the victor was speedily compelled to flee into Germany, by Alva in person. The first campaign of William was no less disastrous. His hasty levy, 20,000 strong, of raw troops, or enthusiastic religionists, were little fitted to encounter the cool discipline of the enemy; nor was he himself a match for the able Castilian. Again did thousands emigrate; and as these were for 1563-1576 the most part the most industrious and useful of the people, their retreat inflicted a serious blow on the resources of the country. Such as reached England were received with kindness by Elizabeth, who had probably furnished money to the prince, and who was eager to humble the pride of Spain. The unpopularity of the duke was still further increased by the contributions which he wrung from the public—often in direct violation of the constitutional forms—to support his armaments and endless array of civil government. At length some of the seafaring exiles commenced another series of operations, by taking the town of Brille, on the isle of Vorn, in the name of the prince of Orange. This first success was sullied by savage barbarity: the monks and priests were massacred in every direction. Next Flushing revolted: the example was speedily followed by other towns of Zealand; especially when military stores, several companies of exiles, and some of the British adventurers arrived from England. The defeat of a Spanish fleet, under the duke of Medina-Celi, spread the spark into a conflagration. The insurrection now extended to Holland, all the cities and towns of which, Amsterdam only excepted, declared for the patriotic cause. Mons was taken through stratagem by Count Louis, on his return from the civil wars of France. It was besieged by Alva; the prince of Orange advanced to relieve it; but it was recovered by the Spaniard, and the prince was even obliged to disband his army. But if the cause was, on the whole, unfortunate in the southern provinces, it continued to improve in the northern. In an assembly of the Dutch states, held at Dort, they openly recognized William as their governor, and voted him supplies for carrying on the war. By their invitation he arrived among them, and the reformed religion was declared that of the state. Alva and his son took the field to recover the places which had rebelled; and wherever their arms were successful, the cruelties inflicted by them on the inhabitants were certainly horrible. It may, however, be doubted whether they were not fully equalled by the atrocities of the Count de la Marck and other Protestant leaders; atrocities which William, with laudable humanity, endeavored to end. Philip was at length convinced that a wrong policy had been adopted, and Alva was either recalled, or permitted to retire. Under the council of state which next governed the Netherlands, Spanish affairs wore a much worse aspect. Sometimes the troops mutinied for their arrears of pay, which Philip’s coffers could not often satisfy. They 1576-1584 seized Alost, and plundered Antwerp, which had shown more attachment to the prince’s cause. To restore the fortune of the war, in 1576 Don Juan of Austria, the king’s brother, was appointed to the regency. Before his arrival, however, the states, both Catholic and Protestant, assembled at Ghent, with the intention of devising measures for the common weal. These both agreed that, until the Spanish troops were expelled, there could be no happiness for the people. On Juan’s arrival he was required to dismiss them; and on his refusal, applications for succor were made to the Protestant Powers. Even the duke of Anjou, brother of the French king, declared for the states; not, however, from any sympathy with struggling freedom, but from a hope of the crown, which a party promised to procure for him. Alarmed for the result, the regent agreed to the demand, on the condition that Philip should continue to be recognized as the lawful sovereign. After some warlike operations, in which assistance was furnished by Elizabeth, and which were to the advantage of the confederates, the duke of Anjou, who could muster an army, was invited by the Catholics to take possession of the government. Before the negotiations with this prince were concluded, Don Juan died, and the prince of Parma, by far the ablest officer in the Spanish service, arrived, took command of the king’s forces, and by his valor no less than his policy changed the position of affairs. He gained possession of Flanders, Artois, and Hainault; but William of Orange had address enough to maintain all Holland, Guelderland, and Friesland, with a proportion of Brabant, in his interests. These states he formed into a confederacy, called the Union of Utrecht, from the place where it was held. The apparent object was to secure the common weal; the real one, to subvert the Spanish sway. This confederacy was the foundation of the Seven United Provinces. The election of the duke of Anjou threatened forever to destroy the expiring domination of Spain, which the same states (in 1580) declared to be at an end. But Anjou was weak and faithless, and was soon expelled by his new subjects. Subsequently, indeed, they showed a disposition to be reconciled with him; but his death intervened, and again left the prince of Parma a theater for the exercise of his talents. It was immediately followed by that of the prince of Orange, who was assassinated, it has been charged, at the instance of the king himself. But though William had been denounced as a traitor for the part which he had taken in the election of Anjou, and in the 1584-1592 adjuration of Philip’s authority, and though two preceding attempts—one of which had nearly proved fatal—had been made on his life, it is highly improbable that so dark and base a deed was ever contemplated by the monarch. Philip was stern and cruel; but he was no lurking assassin.

The death of this justly celebrated man did not produce any advantage for Spain: though his eldest son, the Count de Buren, was a hostage in the hands of Philip, the second, Prince Maurice, soon showed that he was able to tread in his steps. The southern provinces, indeed, as far as the Scheldt, were persuaded or compelled by the general Farnese to swear anew allegiance to the Spaniard: from community of religious feeling, and from hereditary attachment, his path here was smoothened; but in the northern, where the principles of the Reformation had struck so deeply into the soil, the house of Orange had laid the sure foundation of its future sway. The latter, after the loss of Antwerp, which was reduced by Farnese in 1585, were strengthened by the accession of the Protestants from the Spanish provinces, and by the arrival of exiles from Germany and Britain. So much alarmed, however, were the confederated states at the successes of their able enemy, that they offered the sovereignty of the Netherlands to the king of France, on the condition of his sending an army to their defense; and, when he declined it, the same offer was made to Elizabeth. But though that queen had assisted, and was still ready to assist the insurgents, she did not wish, by an open acceptance of the crown, to plunge at once into a war with the formidable Philip. She satisfied herself with sending 6,000 men, under the weak and profligate earl of Leicester, to assist the cause. That she had ultimate views on the sovereignty is beyond dispute; but the poor, vain favorite, her general, did more harm than good: in addition to his military blunders, he had the art of incurring, in an extraordinary degree, the hatred, no less than the contempt, of the confederates. Being suspected, and on no slight grounds, of aspiring to that sovereignty himself, and seeing the universal current against him, he fled to England, when Elizabeth compelled him to resign his authority as governor. But the impolitic war of Philip with France, which drew the prince of Parma from the Low Countries, more than counterbalanced the mischief occasioned by the worthless minion of the English court. The confederates had not only time to consolidate their powers north of the Scheldt, but to make even destructive irruptions into 1587-1592 Brabant and Flanders. The extraordinary military powers of Prince Maurice rendered him no mean antagonist for even the able Farnese. In 1592 the latter died, and with him ended the hope of subduing the northern provinces. Philip now opened his eyes to the impossibility of maintaining the Netherlands in obedience: he found that, even with the Catholic states, the name of Spaniard was odious; and, as he was approaching the end of his days, he was naturally anxious to settle the affairs of the country. These considerations, added to the affection which he bore for his daughter, the infanta Isabel, and the esteem which he entertained for Albert, made him resolve to marry the two, and resign the government to them and their heirs. This was one of his most prudent measures: if it could not recall Holland and the other Protestant provinces to obedience, it seemed likely at least to preserve those which were still left. The deed of abdication was executed in May, 1598, about four months before the monarch’s death.

Elizabeth had from time to time afforded succor to the insurgents of the Netherlands, but this was not the only cause of Philip’s resentment and of his desire for revenge. She had fomented the disturbances in Portugal, consequent on the death of Cardinal Henrique;^[29] and her captains, among whom Sir Francis Drake was the most active, had for many years committed unjustifiable depredations on the Spanish possessions of South America, and more than once on the coasts of the Peninsula itself. Thus, omitting all mention of preceding devastations in Portugal, in 1585 he plundered the coast of Galicia, ravaged the Cape de Verd islands, pillaged the town of San Domingo, and still more fatally that of Carthagena on the Gulf of Florida. When Philip’s patience was exhausted, and his affairs in the Netherlands allowed him a few months’ respite to avenge the insults he had so long sustained, he diligently began to prepare a mighty armament, which, though its destination was secret, was suspected by all to be intended against England. In 1587 Elizabeth dispatched Sir Francis to reconnoiter the coasts of the Peninsula, and if possible to annihilate the preparations which were proceeding with so much rapidity. In April that admiral, accompanied by twenty-five vessels, appeared before Cadiz, and, by hoisting French and Flemish colors, entered the bay. But he found the troops aware at length of his country and drawn 1588 up to receive him. He therefore made no attempt to land, but, having set fire to twenty-six merchant vessels, he returned, after capturing a spice ship from India. This aggression, though in itself of no great importance, was not likely to cool the animosity of Philip: the preparations were hastened; all the seaports of Spain, the viceroys of Naples and Sicily, the governor of Milan and the Netherlands furnished vessels, troops, or money. The general rendezvous was Lisbon, and the command of the fleet confided to the duke of Medina-Sidonia, while the prince of Parma was to conduct the land forces. After some fruitless attempts at negotiation, in which neither party was sincere, and in which both merely sought to gain time, a fleet of 130 ships, some of the largest that ever plowed the deep, carrying, exclusive of 8,000 sailors, no less than 20,000 of the bravest troops in the Spanish armies, and the flower of the Spanish chivalry, in May, 1588, left the harbor of Lisbon. The pompous epithet of the Invincible, which self-confidence had applied to this mighty armament, the approbation of the pope, and the great reinforcement which the prince of Parma had prepared in Flanders, might well inspire the enemy with hope of success. Off the coast of Galicia the ships were assailed by a furious tempest: some of them were shattered; a month was required to repair them; so that the fleet did not arrive within sight of the English coast before the end of July. Though Lord Howard and Sir Francis were not so imprudent as openly to assail so formidable an enemy, they harassed him without intermission, and inflicted irreparable damage on some of the larger ships. It was the intention of the Spanish admiral to join the fleet of the Netherlands which lay in Dunkirk, and which were ready to embark above 30,000 veteran troops. As the duke of Medina-Sidonia proceeded up the Channel, he lost two of his best galleons; while at anchor before Calais eight fireships from the English fleet threw his into confusion: all endeavored to escape, but owing to the darkness of the night they ran one against another, and many were seriously damaged. The brave Englishman did not fail to take advantage of the disaster: an action followed, in which ten of the Spanish vessels were sunk, destroyed, or compelled to surrender, while the loss of the English was absolutely nothing. Well might the duke begin to despair of success: his only hope lay in the meditated junction with Farnese, but that junction was prevented by the allied English and Dutch fleet, which, from the vessels being so much lighter, 1596 could venture into shallows where his huge and useless machines must have perished. As the south wind blew with violence, he could not retrace his voyage, and to remain where he was would only hasten his destruction. He was even now sufficiently inclined—one account says that he had already resolved—to abandon the enterprise, and he steered northwards: he was not so desperate as to attempt a landing on the English coast without the prince of Parma, for whose arrival he waited for some time—the English fleet hovering in sight, but not disposed to attack him. At length he gave melancholy orders for his return, and as the wind still raged from the south, as besides he well knew that reinforcements from that quarter were daily reaching his enemy, he resolved to return by coasting the northern shores of Scotland and Ireland. But his disasters were not ended: his fleet was assailed by another storm, and many vessels were engulfed, some dashed to pieces on the Norwegian, others on the Scottish, coast. Off the Irish coast a second storm was experienced, with almost equal loss. Had the English admiral been well supplied with stores, instead of being compelled to return in search of them, not a vessel would ever have revisited Spain. How many actually perished has been disputed, but the Spaniards, who fix the number at thirty-two, are probably right. They must, however, have been the largest, since half the soldiers returned no more and most of the noble families had to mourn a lost member. On this trying occasion Philip acted with great moderation: he ordered extraordinary care to be taken of the survivors, received the duke of Medina-Sidonia with kindness, observed that no human prudence or valor could avail against the elements, and caused thanksgiving to be made that any of his subjects had returned. The following year an English fleet landed, first in Galicia, where, according to the Spanish accounts, the loss of the invaders was 1,000, and next in Portugal, to support the pretensions of the prior of Crato,^[30] but with as little effect. This expedition was injudiciously planned. At this time the authority of Philip in Portugal was too firm to be shaken. The satisfaction which he felt was subsequently alloyed by the hostilities of his enemy in South America and at Cadiz. In the former, indeed, his fleet triumphed, but in 1596 that flourishing seaport was taken and 1597 pillaged. The excesses committed on this occasion by the English troops under the earl of Essex are strongly reprobated by the Spanish historians. The insult so enraged the king that he resolved to equip an expedition for the invasion of Ireland, where he would certainly have been joined by the disaffected Catholics. The fate of this new fleet, however, was even more disastrous than the famous one of 1588: it was assailed by so furious a tempest that forty of the vessels were lost and the rest disabled. The severity of this second blow deterred Philip from any future attempts on the most hated of his enemies.

The transactions of Philip with Portugal will be best related in the section devoted to the modern history of that kingdom. It is here sufficient to observe that, on the death of Cardinal Henrique without issue, the crown was claimed by the Castilian monarch in right of his mother; that though there were other competitors, of whom one was supported by England, and though the Portuguese themselves, from hatred to their neighbors, armed to oppose him, his forces placed him on the throne of that country; and he continued to fill it until his death. This acquisition, added to the other extensive dominions of Philip, rendered him by far the most powerful monarch in Europe.

So far with respect to the foreign transactions of Spain under the eventful reign of this monarch: its domestic history must now be noticed.

The revolt of the Moriscos occupies a remarkable place in the native annals of the sixteenth century. These Christianized Moors still remained Mohammedans at heart, and though they attended at mass, they made amends in secret for this compulsory apostasy by celebrating the rites of their own religion. To wean them from usages, which, however innocent, reminded them of their ancient faith and glory, early in 1567 a decree was published that the children of the Moriscos should frequent the Christian church; that the Arabic should cease to be used in writing; that both men and women should wear the Spanish costume; that they should discontinue their ablutions; that they should no longer receive Mohammedan names, and that they should neither marry nor remove from one place to another without permission from the proper authorities. The marquis of Mondejar, captain-general of Granada, who had strongly disapproved the royal ordinance, was persuaded to lay the protests of the Moriscos before the king. The result was a refusal, 1567-1568 which so irritated this people that a general revolt was planned. Its chief authors were Ferag ben Ferag, descended from the royal house of Granada, and Diego Lopez ben Aboo. Having ascertained the dispositions of the inhabitants of the Alpujarras, where the best stand could be made against the royal forces, solicited aid from the kings of northern Africa, and persuaded the mountain banditti to embrace their cause, the evening of Christmas Day was fixed for the general rising. With the romantic view of restoring their ancient kingdom, they secretly elected in Granada a sovereign, Fernando de Valor, whom they named Mohammed Aben Humeya, and whose family was of royal extraction. The new king was immediately invested with a scarlet robe; four banners, pointing to the four cardinal points, were placed on the ground; and, while kneeling on these, he swore that he would defend the faith of the prophet to his hour of death. Homage was then done, and fidelity sworn, by the kneeling chiefs, who ended with exalting him on their shoulders, exclaiming, “God bless Mohammed Aben Humeya, king of Granada and of Cordova!”

This bold step was followed by other measures equally secret and vigilant. We can allude only to the more striking scenes. From Granada Aben Ferag led his followers into the Alpujarras, where being joined by the Monfis, or banditti of these mountains, he passed from place to place to sustain the insurrection. At the same time orders were given by Aben Humeya to massacre all Christians above the age of ten years. The vengeance of these ferocious apostates fell chiefly on the priests who had forced them to mass, on the altars and images which they had been taught to venerate, on collectors of the taxes, and the officers of justice. At Soportujar, after destroying the interior of the church,—uniformly the first object of their assault,—they seized the priests and some women (the rest had fled) and led them out of the place to be put to death. As they proceeded the Morisco captain exhorted the priest to confess Mohammed, at least in appearance, since that was the only way to escape the fate before him. He replied that he was resolved to die for the love of Christ. They were met by Aben Humeya, who had pity—and this is almost a solitary instance—on the women, but ordered the ecclesiastics to be slain. At Conchar, near Poqueyra, many Christians took refuge in a tower: it was set on fire; they were compelled to descend and were consigned, thirty-eight in number, to a dreary dungeon. After 1568 lying there nineteen days, persisting in their refusal to apostatize, they were drawn forth, and while marching to the place of execution were encouraged, by two ecclesiastics of their number, to suffer with courage and with hope. They were all cut down and their corpses left a prey to dogs. At Portugus, in the district of Ferreyra, the terrified Christians ascended the tower of the church: as usual, fire was set to it; the victims descended, were seized, their hands tied behind them, and committed to prison. In most, if not in all cases, attempts were made to convert the persons thus immured; in almost all, to the honor of the Spanish character be it spoken, without success. These victims, to the number of twenty-eight, were drawn from the prison by fours and put to death.

Frightful were the horrors perpetrated by the Moriscos at this period. The number of victims cannot be estimated; it probably amounted to thousands. They are among the truest martyrs of Spain: far worthier of the title than the mad enthusiasts of Cordova, even than many of those under the memorable Roman persecutions.

When intelligence of these events reached the marquis of Mondejar, after providing for the defense of Granada he took the field. Aben Humeya, confiding in the defiles of the Alpujarras, prepared to receive him, while another band of the rebels placed themselves in opposition to the marquis de los Velez on the southern frontier of this mountainous district. In some isolated actions the Moriscos had the advantage; but this was only when the Christians went in scattered detachments, and were consequently subject to surprise. The former were too weak, even with the succor they derived from Africa, to risk a general engagement. Fortress after fortress fell into the power of the royal generals, who pursued the enemy into the depths of this region. An event which now happened in the fortress of Jubiles made a deep impression on the rebels, and contributed more than any other cause to feed the flame of civil strife. That fortress being invested by the marquis, three aged Moriscos issued from it with the banner of peace, and agreed to its surrender on the condition that the lives of the garrison, consisting of 300 men and 1,500 women, should be respected. It was accordingly entered by the royal troops, to whom the plunder was abandoned. The men were lodged with the inhabitants of the town; the women were ordered to be accommodated in the church. As that edifice, however, would contain no more than 500, the remaining 1568 thousand were compelled to pass the night in the square before it. Guards were posted to protect them. About the middle of the night, one of the soldiers, being enamored with a young Morisca, wished to detach her from her companions. The confusion produced by this struggle led to a tumult; the soldiers rushed from their camp; it was proclaimed that many armed Moriscos were disguised among the prisoners, and in the fury of the moment the whole number were pitilessly massacred. In vain did the marquis endeavor to stay the carnage: the authority of the officers was disregarded. At break of day their fury cooled and gave way to remorse on perceiving the bloody corpses of 1,000 helpless, unarmed women. This bloody crime will never be blotted from the minds of men.^[31]

The tyranny of Aben Humeya somewhat counterbalanced the effect which this terrific tragedy was so well calculated to produce. First Aben Aboo sought and obtained pardon, as the price of submission. Even Miguel de Rojas, father-in-law of the royal Morisco, opened a negotiation for the same end. Informed of this circumstance, Aben Humeya sent for his father-in-law, who, on entering his quarters, was assassinated by the guards. He next repudiated his wife, put to death several of her relatives, and threatened the same fate for her brother, Diego de Rojas, one of his ablest adherents. By this hasty vengeance he naturally estranged many of his followers. As the Christian army advanced into the mountains he was compelled to flee from one position to another, but not without loss to his pursuers. But such were the excesses of the Christian soldiers, the want of faith which characterized some of their leaders, and the rapacity of all, that no reverses could make the rebels lay down their arms, and on several occasions they were enabled to inflict a suitable revenge. The Moriscos had learned, to their cost, that even when conditions of capitulation had been proposed and accepted, in violation of their terms the prisoners were plundered or massacred. It was asserted that no faith could be placed in a Christian’s word or bond, and the report naturally strengthened the bands of Aben Humeya. Nor was he less served by the dissensions which continued between the Christian chiefs: some honorably leaning towards mercy; others, in revenge for the atrocities which have been described, persisting on no quarter. So 1569 great was the indignation produced by the excesses of the royal troops that several districts which had submitted rebelled anew, and some which had not hitherto declared for the cause now hastened to support it. At this time Aben Humeya was at the head of a far more numerous force than had ever yet taken the field. Emboldened by this unexpected good fortune, he assembled 10,000 men at Valor and marched on Verja to annihilate the marquis de los Velez. At Valor, whither the marquis de los Velez penetrated, he made a vigorous stand, but notwithstanding his valor, which was never perhaps surpassed, and his abilities, which were of a high order, he was signally defeated and compelled to flee almost alone. This disaster was partially repaired by a reinforcement from Africa, and by the spirit of desertion which prevailed in the camp of the marquis. His own conduct, however, continually increased the number of his enemies. He had long distrusted his African allies: he now removed them from his camp to the frontier of Almeria, and placed them under the command of Aben Aboo, his cousin, who had again joined him. Having one day dispatched a letter to Aboo, whom he directed to march with the Africans on a point likely to be assailed by the Christians, the messenger was waylaid and assassinated by the creatures of the incensed rival, Diego. The latter caused another letter to be written to Aben Aboo, and the handwriting was so well counterfeited that it could not easily be detected: its purport was that the general should lead the Africans to a fortress in the interior and put every one to death. The astonished Aben Aboo could scarcely believe his senses, but when the artful Diego arrived with 600 horse, protesting that he himself was sent to assist in the carnage, all doubt vanished. The African chiefs were soon acquainted by Diego with the fate which had been intended for them. These sons of the desert instantly arose, swore to be revenged, acknowledged Aben Aboo as chief of the Moriscos, and dispatched 400 Africans, with the newly-recognized king at their head, to the headquarters of Aben Humeya. As they were allies they were suffered to pass by the guards. They entered the house, seized on the king, and bound him, notwithstanding his protestations of innocence and devotion to the cause. During the night he was strangled, and Aben Aboo was proclaimed under the name of Muley Abdalla.

The first act of the new king, who had no participation in the design of Diego Alguazil, was to besiege Orguiva; but the place, 1570 after a heroic defense, was relieved by a reinforcement from Granada. The war now raged with various success; to each party the loss of one day was counterbalanced by the gain of the next, until Don Juan of Austria, who had assembled troops on every side, again took the field in person, in the resolution of ending the contest by more vigorous measures. He divided his army into two bodies, one of which he intrusted to the duke of Sessa, while with the other he proceeded to reduce the mountain fortresses. One after another fell into his hands, but cost him so many men that he was compelled to suspend his operations until reinforcements arrived. The submission or rather correspondence of Albaqui, one of Muley’s ablest generals, with those of Philip greatly facilitated the progress of the royal arms. To prevent another insurrection after submission, the inhabitants of the newly subdued towns were transplanted to other parts, generally to the towns of Andalusia, a few into New Castile. This measure contributed more than any other to weaken the rebels and to hasten the conclusion of the war. Believing that mildness might now be tried with effect, a proclamation was made that every rebel who within twenty days should visit the Christian camp and submit should be freely pardoned. But power, even so limited, was too sweet to be resigned, and Muley, retreating from hill to hill, made pretense of desiring peace only to gain time until some expected succor should arrive from Barbary. Not so, however, with the other chiefs, who, perceiving that resistance was hopeless, were anxious to obtain the best terms they could: in their name Albaqui proceeded to the camp of Don Juan, and did homage to him as the representative of their liege sovereign. But the determination to transport every Morisco from the kingdom of Granada again forced the people to resistance. They took refuge on the summits of precipices and did what mischief they could to their pursuers. It was sometimes considerable, a circumstance which Muley readily seized to exasperate the minds of his people, and to inspire them with hope. Albaqui, however, still passed from one camp to the other, with the view of completing the negotiations which had been commenced. Seeing the obstinacy of Muley, he entered into an engagement to raise 400 men, and with them to deliver the king, dead or alive, into the hands of the Christian general. He was betrayed, and assassinated by order of Muley, who abruptly broke off all communication with Don Juan. Hostilities accordingly recommenced, but so much to the disadvantage of 1568 the rebels that they were glad to take refuge in the deep caverns with which these mountains abound. Into one of these Muley threw himself, with his wife, two daughters, and about sixty followers: as usual the royal troops made a fire at the mouth, with a view of suffocating such as refused to surrender. All perished, except Muley and two others, who were acquainted with a secret issue from the place.

As the whole range of mountains was now almost depopulated, the Moriscos being uniformly transferred to other parts, and as but a handful of desperate adventurers, most of whom had been professed banditti, remained, the chiefs who still adhered to Muley now advised him to submit. But eventually Muley was slain, and with him was extinguished the last spark of the rebellion.

The next important feature in the domestic administration of Philip is the fate of his first-born son, Don Carlos. This prince, who was born in 1545, was by nature of fiery temperament and of irregular manners. In his seventeenth year he sustained an accident which was, doubtless, the chief cause of all his misfortunes. One day while at the university of Alcala he fell headlong down the staircase, and was for some time stunned by the blow. As no external injury was visible, his medical attendant hoped that he would soon be restored. At length, being discovered in an attempt to flee into the Netherlands, to place himself at the head of the insurgents, the king felt that he should be compelled to do what he ought to have done long before,—to place a guard over his frenzied son. He did not, however, adopt this expedient without the advice of his best counselors. On the night of January 19, 1568, accompanied by four of his nobles and some armed guards, he proceeded to the prince’s apartment, took away his papers, his sword, knives, and everything that could be hurtful to him, assuring him at the same time that he had no end in view beyond his good. He confided the care of the prince to six gentlemen of the noblest families of Spain, two of whom were always to be with him night and day, and he placed over all the duke de Feria and the prince de Evoli. This measure, however well intended, did no good: Carlos grew sullen and obstinate, his freaks more frequent and capricious. At length he fell into a violent fever. His better feelings returned; he asked for his father, whose pardon he humbly pleaded, received the last sacraments, commended his soul to God, and died at midnight, July 24, 1568.

The fate of this maniac prince has called forth much affected commiseration, inasmuch as it has enabled malignity to assail the1578-1598 memory of the father. It has been stated that Philip was the rival of his son in the affections of a German princess; that after she became queen of Spain, she loved the latter and detested the former; that jealousy forced the king to the most tyrannical treatment of the youth: that Carlos was persecuted by the inquisition, and at length poisoned by order of the father. Such tales are without even the shadow of a foundation, in contemporary writers of Spain, or even in common sense. The truth is that Philip behaved with much moderation to a son who was fit only for an asylum.

But if impartial justice acquit Philip of guilt, or even of undue severity, in regard to his son, the same favorable verdict cannot be given in regard to two other affairs which have been studiously wrapped in great darkness: they were the assassination of Juan de Escovedo, secretary to Don Juan of Austria, and the subsequent persecution of Antonio Perez, Philip’s secretary of state. The former, who had been sent to Spain on business of his master, was murdered at Madrid, in March, 1578. The assassins were not unknown, but they were suffered to escape into Italy, and were afterwards employed in the service of the Neapolitan viceroy. That they were hired by Antonio Perez is undoubted, from his own confession; but what interest had he, what revenge to gratify, in such a crime? The same confession—published many years after the tragedy—throws the entire blame on the king, nor is there any reason to doubt its truth.

Philip died in September, 1598, in the palace of the Escorial, of which he was the founder and which is the noblest monument of his reign. His character must be sufficiently clear from his actions: that it was gloomy, stern, and cruel; that he allowed neither civil freedom nor religious toleration, but was on all occasions the consistent enemy of both; that he was suspicious, dark, and vindictive, are truths too evident to be denied. His ambition was certainly subservient to his zeal for religion; his talents were considerable; for prudence he was almost unrivaled; his attention to public affairs, and to the best interests of his country, have been surpassed by few monarchs; his habits were regular, his temperance proverbial; his fortitude of mind, a virtue which he had often occasion to exercise, was admirable; and, in general, he was swayed 1598-1618 by the strictest sense of justice. Even his religious bigotry, odious as it was, was founded on conscientious principles, and his arbitrary acts on high notions of the regal authority. By many of his subjects he was esteemed, by many feared, by some hated, by none loved.

By the last of his four wives, Anne of Austria, Philip left a son, who succeeded by the title of Philip III.; his other male children preceded him to the tomb. Two daughters also survived him.

The death of Philip left Spain bordering on prostration, both as regards her industries and commerce, necessarily crippled by the unstable status of the country and in the dispirited condition of the people themselves, after long sufferance under the despot and fanatic.

The two preceding reigns, being by far the most important in the modern history of Spain, have commanded a corresponding share of our attention. But as with Philip II. ends the greatness of the kingdom, which from that period declined with fearful rapidity,—as in the present chapter little remains to be recorded beyond the reign of worthless favorites, the profligacy of courts, and the deplorable weakness of government,—the journey before us will be speedily performed.

The first courtier to whom the destinies of the Peninsula were confided was the duke of Lerma; but as he had no talents either for peace or war, the burden of administration devolved on a needy adventurer, Rodrigo Calderon, one of his pages. In his domestic policy,—if profligate imbecility deserve the name,—the most signal circumstance is the expulsion of the Moriscos from Valencia, Andalusia, New Castile, and Granada. In 1609 orders were dispatched to the captains-general to force the Moriscos on board the galleys prepared for them, and land them on the African coast. Those of Valencia, 150,000 in number, were first expelled; they were followed, though not without great opposition, nor in some places without open resistance, by their brethren of the other provinces. In the whole, no fewer than 600,000 were thus forcibly driven from their ancient habitations, omitting the mention of such as, by assuming the disguise of Christians, spread over Catalonia and southern France, and of the still greater number of children, who, being born from Moriscos and hereditary Christians, were suffered to remain. Those who disembarked in Africa were treated with 1601-1621 characteristic inhumanity by the most cruel and perfidious people on earth.

In 1618 the duke of Lerma was disgraced, and the real minister, Don Rodrigo Calderon, who had been adorned with numerous titles, was imprisoned. Subsequently he was tortured, tried, and sentenced to death, but before the sentence could be put into execution the king died. Philip, however, ordered him to the block. The removal of the duke only made way for another as imbecile and worthless as himself. So that the king was not troubled with state business, but allowed to have his women and his diversions, to provide for mistresses and parasites, he cared not who held the post of minister. Towards the close of his reign, indeed, he appeared to take some interest in the report of his council, which,—with the view of encouraging the population, now alarmingly decreased, and restoring the national industry, now almost expiring—suggested some salutary expedients. But, though he approved the proposed measures, he had not the rigor to carry them into effect.

The foreign transactions of this reign would be too unimportant to be detailed even if they could be admitted into a compendium like the present. In revenge for the maritime hostilities of the English, an expedition was sent to Ireland to raise the inhabitants against the government, but it was annihilated at Kinsale. In the Low Countries the war continued with little glory to the Archduke Albert until 1609, when the independence of the Seven United Provinces was acknowledged by treaty. With France there was continued peace, which, in 1612, was strengthened by the double marriage of the prince of the Asturias with Isabelle de Bourbon, and of Louis XIII. with the infanta Ana, eldest daughter of the Spanish monarch. With the Venetians, Turks, and Moors of Africa there were some engagements, but nothing decisive was the result. Spain still retained the duchy of Milan, the kingdom of Naples, Sicily, and Sardinia, and the fortresses on the African coast. Philip died March 31, 1621. Besides his heir and Ana, queen of France, he left children, Maria, queen of Hungary, Don Carlos, and Don Fernando, who entered the church and attained the dignity of cardinal. His character needs no description: it was chiefly distinguished for helpless imbecility, for dissipation and idleness. Though apparently well intentioned, he was a curse to the nation he governed.

Under Philip IV. of Spain we find but a repetition of the mistakes or mischievous negligence of the preceding Philips. The1621 desperate condition of the country’s resources received little or only contemptuous attention so long as the king’s own coffers were full.

When the new king ascended the throne he was only in his seventeenth year, and he began, like his father, by surrendering the reins of government to a worthless favorite. This was the count of Olivares, who had been a gentleman of the bedchamber to the prince of Asturias. This haughty minion commenced his career by removing from the ministry his benefactor, the duke de Uceda, and by recalling the valiant Don Pedro Giron, duke of Osuna, from the viceroyalty of Naples. Whoever had ability, or popular fame or favor with the king, was sure to experience his envy, often his deadly persecution. Every servant of the late government was dismissed or imprisoned, to make way for creatures, if possible, more worthless. It is, however, certain that by revoking many of the profuse grants made by the two preceding sovereigns, by dismissing two-thirds of the locusts in office, by enforcing the residence of many señores, by sumptuary regulations, and other measures, he increased the revenues of the crown. But these reforms were but temporary; the minister was too corrupt to persevere in any line of public advantage; his object was his own emolument, and that of his creatures; nor would he have so much as touched a single abuse had not the voice of the public compelled him to it. When he had acquired some reputation for these measures, he outstripped even his predecessors in the race of corruption; and, what is still worse, his heart was as depraved as his aims were selfish. How little Spain could flourish under such princes, and such administrations, may be readily conjectured. In its internal affairs there was the same gradual decline of agriculture, of commerce, of the mechanical arts, and, consequently, of the national resources; yet, while the mass of the people were thus sinking into hopeless poverty, the court exhibited more splendor than ever. Thus, the reception of Charles, Prince of Wales, and of his tutor, the duke of Buckingham,—who, with the view of obtaining the hand of the infanta Maria, sister of the king, had been romantic enough to visit Madrid in disguise,—is a favorite subject of historic description. The English reader need not be told that this prodigal expenditure was thrown away, and that Charles ultimately obtained a French princess. One cause of the failure was, doubtless, the bigotry of the 1640-1660 Spanish court; but another, and no mean one, was the profligacy of Buckingham, which highly disgusted the royal family. Still more expensive were the festivities consequent on the election of the king of Hungary—who had married the infanta Maria, sister of Philip—to be king of the Romans, and consequently heir to the imperial crown. If to these fooleries we add the money sent out of the kingdom to assist the German emperor in the wars with Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden, we shall not be surprised that the whole nation beheld the conduct of Philip and his minister with discontent. Murmurs and complaints were treated with contempt, until the Catalans openly opposed the flagitious minister and the royal puppet.

The profligate extravagances of the court were not the only cause which led to the Catalan insurrection. At the close of a war with France—a war of which mention will hereafter be made—the Castilian troops, in the fear that hostilities would be recommenced by the enemy, were stationed on the northern frontier, at the expense of the inhabitants, on whom they were billeted. This regulation was as unjust as it was arbitrary, and even odious. If to this we add the desire which the minister had always shown to abolish, or at least to violate, the privileges of the principality, and the fact that Philip himself had for the first five years of his reign deferred visiting Barcelona to take the accustomed oaths, we shall not be surprised that a people, fiercely tenacious in all ages of their reasonable rights, should be excited to a very high pitch. At first, the peasantry, on whom the burden fell with the most severity, were contented with expelling their unwelcome inmates; but, when the soldiers resisted, lives were lost on both sides. From these scenes, and from the universal hostility of the Catalans to his violent regulations, Olivares might have learned something useful, but he was incapable of profiting by the lessons of experience. Ignorant of the indomitable character of the people, he sent the Duke de Cardona, successor to the late viceroy, with instructions to enforce the obnoxious measure. The duke did not long survive his nomination, and his death paved the way to greater disasters. The deputies from the lordship were refused admission to the king, and the Marquis de los Velez was sent with an army to reduce the rebels to obedience. Convinced that of themselves they should be unequal to the royal forces, they implored the aid of the French king. That aid was readily promised, but as it did not immediately arrive, the 1640-1660 whole principality, except the city of Tortosa, armed. This was not all. Contending that the king, by violating their ancient privileges, had broken his compact with them, and, consequently, forfeited all claim to their obedience, they proclaimed a republic. But as the marquis had quickly reduced several important fortresses, and was advancing, breathing revenge on the capital, the new republic was soon destroyed by its authors and Louis XIII. proclaimed count of Barcelona. Convinced that violence was not the way to treat the fierce Catalans, the marquis obtained from the king the revocation of the obnoxious regulation, and a letter, dictated by great mildness, and by paternal regard, calling on the people to renew their homage to their liege indulgent lord. After this 5,000 French soldiers passed the Pyrenees; Tarragona, which now held for the king, and in which all the royal forces were concentrated, was invested, but after a time relieved; Castilian reinforcements arrived to make head against the enemy; near 12,000 French came to assist their countrymen, and Louis himself advanced to the frontiers of Roussillon to direct their operations. At this moment Philip intended to conduct the war in person, and he actually left Madrid for the purpose at the head of a considerable force; but at Aranjuez he halted, under the pretext of waiting the arrival of Olivares, who was in no hurry to join him. In fact, neither king nor minister had courage enough to meet the enemy; the former waited tranquilly until the season was too far passed for operation, and returned to Madrid, assuming great appearance of anger with the count. In the meantime the French armies were actively gaining several important advantages: to counterbalance them Olivares formed a conspiracy in the very heart of France to assassinate the minister, Cardinal Richelieu, and even to dethrone Louis, but it was detected and its prime instrument beheaded. Though a natural death soon called away the cardinal, his successor, Mazarin, who succeeded also to his Machiavellian principles, continued the war. It lingered for years, with various success, or rather with no decided success, to either part, until the inhabitants themselves grew tired of the French yoke and joined with their Castilian brethren. Whether this change in the public feeling was owing to the haughtiness of their allies, which is said to have been intolerable, or to the inconsistency of the popular mind, or still more, probably, to both united, fortune at length began to favor the arms of Philip. Still the war with the Netherlands and with the 1640-1665 Portuguese, to which allusion will shortly be made, rendered the Spanish court desirous of peace. The wish was shared by Mazarin, whose resources were nearly exhausted by hostilities of so many years’ continuance and in so many countries. In 1660 the plenipotentiaries of both powers met at St. Jean de Luz, and the conditions of peace, after three months’ deliberation, were sanctioned by the respective monarchs. By other articles the Catalans were not only pardoned, but their privileges recognized as inviolable. But the most remarkable circumstance attending this celebrated treaty, usually known as the Treaty of the Pyrenees, was the marriage of the infanta Maria Teresa, eldest daughter of Philip, with the youthful Louis XIV. On this occasion, to prevent the union of two such powerful kingdoms, Louis was compelled to renounce all claim to the Spanish crown, either for himself or for his successors. That, however solemn the obligation thus contracted, he had no disposition to fulfill it, will abundantly appear from the sequel; his grandson, as we shall hereafter perceive, ascended the Spanish throne under the title of Philip V.

Commensurate with the origin of the Catalan insurrection was that of Portugal. As this is not the proper place to enter into an examination of the causes which produced or the circumstances which attended that natural burst of freedom, we defer both to a future chapter. Here it is sufficient to observe that the discontented Portuguese, despising the royal puppet at Madrid, and burning with an intolerable thirst for the restoration of their independence, proclaimed the Duke of Braganza under the name of Joam IV., and that in several campaigns they nobly vindicated the step. Assisted by their allies the English, Dutch, and French, they continued the war with indomitable valor and with general success until 1664, when, in the battle of Villaviciosa, they inflicted so severe a blow on the arms of Philip that he precipitately abandoned hostilities. This was one of the causes which led to the exile of Olivares from the court. This was actually done, but the kingdom experienced no benefit by a change of favorites.

During his long reign Philip was frequently at war with England, Holland, or France. The former deprived him of Jamaica and Dunkirk, ravaged the neighborhood of Cadiz, assisted the Portuguese in their efforts for independence, and were sometimes allied with the other powers to humble him still more. The Dutch inflicted dreadful ravages on the American coasts and secured 1665-1667 immense spoil. France, both in the Low Countries and Italy, extended her domains, but at the peace of the Pyrenees she surrendered her conquests in the latter, so that Milan, as well as Naples, still remained to Spain.

The character of Philip, who died in 1665, needs no description. His reign, next to that of Roderic the Goth, was the most disastrous in the annals of Spain. Omitting the distress which it brought on the people, and the horrors of the Catalan insurrection, the loss of Roussillon, Conflans, a part of Cerdaña, Jamaica, much of the Low Countries, and above all Portugal, and his recognition of the independence of the Seven United Provinces, are melancholy monuments of his imbecility. A still worse effect was produced by the frequent reverses of his arms in Italy and the Low Countries; reverses which encouraged the smallest states to set his power at defiance: thus, both in the East Indies, and on the coast of America, his settlements were plundered or seized by Holland. In private life, his conduct was as little entitled to respect: by his mistresses he had six or seven children, of whom the most famous was Don Juan, surnamed of Austria, believed to be the son of an actress of Madrid, and born in 1629.

Of Philip’s numerous offspring by his two queens, Isabella, daughter of Henry IV. of France, and Maria Anna, daughter of the Emperor Ferdinand III., three only survived him, Maria Teresa, queen of France, Margarita, queen of Hungary, and his successor, Don Carlos.

On Don Juan had been lavished the choicest favors of the crown, and, indeed, the affection of his father’s subjects. The jealousy of the queen mother was the natural result and undoubtedly the true source of the dissensions which afflicted the state during the reign of Carlos, 1665 to 1700.

The affairs of the kingdom, so unfortunate during the reigns of the two Philips, were not likely to improve under a child who at his accession had not attained his fourth year, especially as Don Juan, the favorite of the nation, was at open hostility with the queen-regent and her confessor, the Father Nitard, a German Jesuit. This churchman is represented as haughty to the nobles, supple to the queen, and in his general conduct corrupt; but as the representation comes from men always jealous of foreigners, it must be received with caution. An unbiased mind will easily perceive that his chief fault was the unbounded 1667-1675 power he exercised through the queen. The disasters which befell her administration added to the popular discontent. Though the perfidious Louis had disclaimed, both for himself and his successors, all title to the Spanish possessions, one of his first acts after his marriage was to assert, in right of his queen, a monstrous pretension to the Low Countries. The French monarch poured his legions over the frontier, and with great rapidity reduced most of the fortresses from the Channel to the Scheldt. At his instigation the Portuguese made an irruption into Estremadura. The union of Sweden, Holland, and England, to oppose the ambition of the Frenchman, saved the whole Netherlands from subjugation; but by the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle he retained the most valuable of his conquests, and by that union, which thus saved a portion of her northern possessions, Spain was compelled to acknowledge the independence of Portugal.

Of these disastrous circumstances advantage was taken by Don Juan of Austria, who had been exiled from the court, to load both the queen and her confessor, now a counselor of state, with increased obloquy. During the flagitious career of the French the voice of the Spaniards proclaimed him as the only man fit to support the sinking fortunes of the monarchy: to remove him from their attachment, and from his own intrigues, he had been nominated governor of the Low Countries, but he had no wish for the dignity. He felt that in Spain he was strong by the popular favor, and knew that at a distance his influence would be annihilated. He therefore renewed his intrigues, artfully uniting the cause of the people with his own, and at length compelling the court to invest him with the government of Aragon, Catalonia, Valencia, the Balearic Isles, and Sardinia. The following years he passed in sovereign state at Saragossa silently watching the course of events which, as he had anticipated, were of the same adverse character to the nation. France, true to her career of spoliation in all ages, in 1672 invaded Holland, now the ally of Spain, with 100,000 men: to such a host resistance was vain, and most of the country was seized by the invaders. Spain, like England, Germany, and other states who confederated to arrest the daring progress of Louis, flew to the assistance of her prostrate ally, and immediately afterwards declared war against France. As usual, the advantage turned in favor of the stronger party. In Burgundy, Franche-Comté, which Spain had inherited in right of the ancient dukes of that province, 1575-1680 was conquered, and some destructive inroads were made into Catalonia; the few fortresses remaining to the Spanish monarch in the Low Countries were threatened, one or two actually reduced, and Messina, in Sicily, was instigated by the enemy to rebel. In 1675 Don Juan was ordered to pass over to that island,^[32] but as the royal majority was at hand when the regent’s term of authority would expire, he hoped that he should be called to the ministry, a result for which his friends were actively disposing the king. The very day of that majority he was at Madrid; he was admitted to the presence of Carlos; the public joy was great, but in a few moments it was clouded by disappointment, when intelligence was spread that, through the arts of the queen, he had been suddenly ordered to leave Madrid. There can be no doubt, however, that his own presumption hastened this disgrace, for he had insisted on being acknowledged as infante of Castile, and consequently as collateral heir to the monarchy. The queen triumphed the more as her son was as imbecile in mind as he was sickly in body, and as with her alone would continue the affairs of administration. But her triumph was transient: the creatures of Don Juan became more numerous and clamorous. The torrent became too strong to be stemmed even by her. She resolved to derive merit from necessity, for knowing that Don Juan was preparing to leave Saragossa for Madrid, she not only suffered her son to command his immediate presence, but she herself wrote in the same strain. At his approach Carlos retired to another palace, ordering his mother not to leave the one she inhabited, and dispatched the archbishop of Toledo to Hita to welcome his brother. The power of Juan was now unbounded, while Maria Anna’s, notwithstanding her efforts to recover the royal favor, was circumscribed to her own household. Juan was affectionately received by the king and was declared prime minister.

The administration of Don Juan was no less deplorable than that of the regent whom he had criminally supplanted. Occupied in the cares of vengeance, or in providing for his creatures, he feebly opposed the victorious progress of Louis. Valenciennes, Cambray, St. Omer’s, and other places were speedily reduced: Ypres and Ghent were assailed with equal success, and Puicerda, on the Catalan frontier, yielded about the same time to another French 1680-1697 army. Most of these places, however, were restored at the peace of Nimeguen, of which the most unpopular condition was that Carlos should receive the hand of the Princess Marie Louise, niece of the French king. That nation had always been regarded with jealousy, and was now hated, by the Spaniards. Juan did not live to witness the solemnization of the nuptials. The ill-success of his government, his haughty behavior towards the grandees, his persecution of such as belonged rather to their country than to his party, and his tyranny even over the king rendered him not merely unpopular, but odious. In this state mental anxiety put an end to his life at the moment his enemies were preparing to hasten his downfall. The queen-dowager returned to court, not indeed to resume her ancient influence, but to assist in multiplying intrigues, and consequently the perplexities of her imbecile son.

From the accession of the third Philip the decline of Spain had been sensible to every observer; it was now amazingly rapid. Her destinies were no longer confided to men even of ordinary abilities, but to mere courtiers—to courtiers, too, noted even among that class for helpless ignorance, for insatiable avarice—who fluttered in their gewgaw colors, or trifled in their puerile diversions, or, what is worse, interfered with matters which not one of them was capable of comprehending. Of the Duke de Medina-Celi, the Condes de Monterey, Oropesa, Melgar, the Dukes de Sessa and Infantado, and the other ministers, whom intrigue raised to the difficult post, one or two indeed were not without a portion of talent, but they had neither the caution nor the honesty to effect any good. To these internal distresses must be added extraordinary inflictions of Providence—hurricanes, inundations, conflagrations, which were frequent both in the present and the preceding reign. In one of these visitations Seville was nearly ruined, in others the shipping was destroyed in the ports, the corn spoiled in the fields, whole streets were on fire, the loss of life was severe. The foreign affairs of the kingdom were not more enviable. Omitting the detail of obscure wars,—obscure at least to the Spaniards,—which almost uniformly turned to their prejudice, on the death of Marie Louise, in 1689, the French monarch again poured the storm of war over the frontier of Catalonia. What most heightened his resentment was the immediate marriage of the widowed Carlos with a princess of the house of Austria; to the house he had always been a mortal enemy, and he feared lest the king, who was hitherto childless, 1697-1699 should at length have an heir. For some time, indeed, the efforts of the invaders, owing to their insignificant numbers, were often repulsed or neutralized by subsequent reverses, but in 1691 Urgel was taken by the Duke de Noailles; Barcelona and Alicante were severely bombarded by sea. Two years afterwards Palamos and Rosas capitulated; the following year the Spaniards were defeated in a considerable battle; the victors took Gerona; Hostalric and other places followed the example, and Barcelona itself was threatened. After a short suspension of hostilities Barcelona fell into the power of Vendôme. Spain trembled to her most distant extremities, and she could scarcely believe in the reality of her good fortune when, at the peace of Ryswick, in 1697, Louis restored all his conquests. She was too much confounded by this display of magnanimity to divine the cause; yet that cause was not insufficient. From his niece, Louise de Bourbon, the French monarch had learned to suspect the impotency of Carlos; the sterility of the recent marriage confirmed the suspicion; and as he aspired in consequence to place a prince of his family on the throne of Castile, he did not wish to diminish the value of the inheritance by its dismemberment.

In 1698 the health of Carlos, which had always been indifferent, began so visibly to decline that all hope of issue was abandoned. On his demise three chief claimants could aspire to his throne: First, the dauphin of France, as the eldest son of Maria Teresa, eldest daughter of Philip IV. Second, the Emperor Leopold, who not only descended from Ferdinand, brother of Charles V., but whose mother was the daughter of Philip III. Third, the electoral prince of Bavaria, whose mother was the only daughter of the infanta Margarita, a young daughter of Philip IV. Of these claims, that of the dauphin was evidently the strongest, since his mother was the eldest sister of Carlos. It is true that she had renounced for her issue all claim to the crown of Spain, but this renunciation had been demanded by the Spaniards from a fear lest the two crowns should fall on the same brow. To such a union Europe would never have consented; and the objection was almost equally strong to the union of Spain with Germany. Hence the hostility to the pretensions both of the dauphin as heir of the French monarchy and of the Emperor Leopold. Hence, too, the celebrated, and infamous as celebrated, treaty of partition, which, in October, 1698, was signed at the Hague by the plenipotentiaries of England, Holland, and France. By it Naples and Sicily, with Guipuzcoa, San Sebastian, 1699-1700 and Fuentarabia, were ceded to the dauphin, Spain and the Indies to the prince of Bavaria, while, for the third party, Charles, second son of Leopold and the representative of his rights, Milan only was reserved. The death of the Bavarian prince destroyed this beautiful scheme of spoliation; but its authors did not long delay in framing another, which gave Spain, the Indies, and Netherlands to Charles, and which amplified the original portion of the dauphin. But Louis had no intention to renounce the splendid inheritance; if he could not procure it for the dauphin, or, which would ultimately be the same, for the eldest son of the dauphin, there was a second son, Philip, duke of Anjou, who would be less the object of jealousy to the European powers. With the same view, Leopold was willing that his own rights, and those of his eldest son, should devolve on the Archduke Charles, the youngest. Both princes sent their emissaries to the court of Carlos, to besiege his sick-bed and to procure a testamentary declaration in favor of their respective pretensions.

Before the signature of this important act, the health and strength of the king had visibly declined; in fact he exhibited in himself a mere shadow of existence. His deplorable, and as it appeared, extraordinary state, one alike of pain, of mental vacuity, and even of half consciousness, gave rise to a report that he was bewitched. An insurrection of the populace,—owing to a scarcity of bread,—who advanced with fury to the palace and insisted on his appearing at the balcony, gave increased celerity to his disease. He now prepared for his end; appointed a council of regency, headed by Cardinal Portocarrero, until the Duke d’Anjou should arrive in Spain; and on November 1, 1700, bade adieu to his worldly sorrows, after one of the most disastrous reigns on record. His character needs no description, it is but too apparent from the preceding relation. Justice, however, requires us to say that, though in his best days his imbecility was helpless and hopeless, this was his misfortune, not his fault, and that his heart was right.

Chapter XV

HOUSE OF BOURBON. 1700-1788

The choice of Philip, however umbrageous to England, Holland, or Germany, was not only the most legitimate, but the best that could have been made. If he was young (he was only seventeen), his rival, Charles, was the same; if a renunciation of the throne had been made by his grandmother, so had it also by the maternal ancestor of the archduke. In this respect, therefore, the two rivals stood on equal terms, but in every other the advantage lay with the French prince. In the first place, he was the only legal heir in the strict order of descent: in the second, his accession was expressly intended to preserve the integrity of the monarchy, which Charles would not have scrupled to dismember: in the third, as the balance of European power was the first object of the various states, his accession to the French throne was far more remote than that of his rival to the imperial. But to England and Holland, the able, ambitious, and neighboring Louis was more formidable, and far more hateful, than the mild and distant Austrian. They feared that the resources of Spain and France would henceforth be wielded by the same hand; that Louis, who by his unaided arms had obtained such successes in the Low Countries, notwithstanding the opposition of the chief powers of Europe, would now be resistless; that the iron barrier of fortresses between France and Holland would be forever thrown down, and that in consequence the maritime republic would inevitably become a province of France. But neither William of Orange nor the states of Holland had much acquaintance either with the Spanish people or with human nature. Both refused to acknowledge Philip until Louis, by a brilliant campaign into the Low Countries, terrified the latter into the recognition, when the former, too feeble to stand alone, followed the example. Neither, however, had any intention of being bound by the compulsory concession. As to the Emperor Leopold, loudly denouncing the will of Carlos as a forgery 1701 or at least extorted during the absence of reason, he prepared for hostilities. Though Milan and Naples had acknowledged Philip, he knew that in both he had many partisans, and if he could not shake the throne of his rival in Spain, he hoped to appropriate these Italian possessions.

The reception of Philip by his new subjects was as gratifying as he could have wished. His grave, even melancholy, exterior was well adapted to their taste, and his religious feeling, his general decorum, his moral principles, and habits were not likely to lose their influence. But his good qualities were rather passive than active; he was formed not to impel, but to receive an impulse from others, and his constitutional indolence—an indolence unexampled even among kings—made him prefer being the dupe of the interested rather than take the trouble to think and act for himself. It was, therefore, evident that he would be the slave of his confidential favorites, and with Louis, who knew him well, the choice of these was matter of great moment. As Cardinal Portocarrero had been so instrumental in the nomination of the Duc d’Anjou, and as he had uniformly exhibited great devotion to the French court, he was invested by Louis with the chief direction of affairs; and three French nobles were placed about the young king’s person, ostensibly to assist him with their councils, but in reality to control both him and every Spaniard who should attempt to weaken the influence of the Grand Monarch. The choice of a wife was no less an object of anxiety: it fell on a princess of Savoy, a lady of mild habits, and no more than fourteen years of age—one who seemed to be excellently fitted for passive obedience. To prevent her correspondence with the court of Turin, on landing at Figueras she was deprived of all her native domestics; nor was any one of her suite suffered to attend her except the Princess Orsini, as her camarera mayor, or superintendent of her household. As this lady would probably exercise much influence over the queen, and through the queen over the king and government, she had been selected with great caution. By birth she was French, of the illustrious family of La Tremouille. Her first husband was Adrian Blaise de Talleyrand, prince of Chalais, with whom she had passed some years in Spain; her second, whom she had married in Italy, and with whom she had spent some years at Rome and Versailles, was Flavio d’Orsini, duke of Bracciano and grandee of Spain—a match for which she was indebted to the good offices of two 1701-1702 French cardinals. Her intimacy with Madame de Maintenon proved of singular service to her ambition, after her husband’s death. A Frenchwoman herself, indebted to France for her present fortune and her hopes of greater, acquainted with the Spanish language, society, and manners; possessing an extensive knowledge of the world, a fascinating manner, an intellect at once penetrating and supple, she appeared admirably adapted for the purpose of Louis. Hence, after receiving minute instructions for her conduct, she was placed with the young queen, to whom she soon became necessary, and over whom her influence was unbounded.

While Philip remained with his new queen at Barcelona, he opened the Cortes of Catalonia. His reason for convoking that assembly was the hope of a considerable donation, perhaps, of a supply sufficient to meet the war which his rival, the Archduke Charles, was preparing to wage on his Italian possessions. The province had never been well affected to the dominion of Castile; its fueros had been the sport of the Austrian monarchs; the abuses under which it had long suffered required removal; its spirit of liberty was unconquerable. From this province Philip was expected to return to Madrid, but in the belief that the wavering loyalty of the Neapolitans and Milanese,—in the former a conspiracy had broken out for Charles, but was soon suppressed,—would be confined by his presence, he resolved to pass over into Italy. During his absence he left the queen-regent of the kingdom, directing her on her return to the capital to hold the Cortes of Aragon. They were accordingly opened at Saragossa, but she found the assembly actuated by the same spirit. The despotism in which she and her French advisers had been nurtured was shocked that the states should begin not with voting the subsidy, but with discussing privileges; the money was expected to be humbly laid at her feet; rights were afterwards to be conceded or confirmed at the good pleasure of the sovereign. As the queen’s presence in Madrid was urgent, she at length consented to suspend the disputes of privileges, and to prorogue the assembly until the return of the king, but not until 100,000 crowns had been voted to him. Leaving this noble people, she hastened to Madrid, where, though she could not be received better, she might at least hope that the forms of freedom would offer no obstacle to her authority.

But if through the gradual usurpation of the crown, especially under the iron despotism of the Austrian princes, Castile had no 1701-1702 longer a legislative check on the royal conduct, her sons were still high-minded, proud of their ancient glories, and inclined to resist any infringement of established customs: above everything they were inimical to foreign, especially to French, influence, and they soon showed that if the threatened attack on the monarchy rendered them the allies, they would never be the tools of Louis. After the novelty of their situation had passed away, they were at no pains to conceal their contempt for the profound ignorance, or their hatred for the overbearing confidence, of the French. Nor was the administration of their own countryman, Cardinal Portocarrero, calculated to restore their good humor. Besides being obnoxious as the agent of a foreign government, his persecution of the Austrian party,—for such a party there had always been,—and of his own political opponents was as unseasonable as it was revengeful. The general discontent was increased by the perpetual arrival of French adventurers, men without money or principle,—pickpockets, gamblers, sharpers, projectors, impostors, and evil characters of every description. At length even the nobles clamored for the convocation of the Cortes, without whose sanction the reformations planned by the minister, Orri, could not have the force of law. Well would it have been for both Philip and his kingdom had this constitutional expedient been adopted. Though absent, he refused his sanction. He feared that the assembly would be tumultuous and unmanageable, that it would greatly circumscribe his authority. The refusal of a demand so constitutional and reasonable was not likely to diminish the widespread dissatisfaction. The jarring opinions of the ministers, the absolute indifference which the king had shown to all public business, the arrival of the Count de Marsin, a nobleman of talents, indeed, but without discretion, as successor to the duke of Harcourt, and the recent departure of Philip for Italy,—a departure highly disapproved of both by ministers and people—gave new force to the general complaint. No wonder that the queen, after the honors of her first reception were over, should find her situation far from enviable.

Unfortunate as was the position of affairs at home, it was not more promising abroad. Though Philip was received with outward, he could not command the cordial respect of the Neapolitans. Most observed a profound silence, especially after the holy blood of St. Januarius refused to liquefy in his presence, and after the pope 1702 refused to grant him the investiture of the kingdom. From Naples he hastened to Milan, to oppose the imperial general, Prince Eugene, who, notwithstanding the opposition, had established himself in Lombardy. After some unimportant operations, he was present at the bloody but indecisive battle of Lazzara. Soon afterwards he left the camp on his return to Spain, where he was summoned by events which we proceed to record.

Though William of England, as before related, had acknowledged Philip, he had done so with duplicity: he knew that both his parliaments were at that time averse to war, and he could only wait for some act of hostility on the part of Louis, which, by incensing the English, should enable him to draw the sword. The measures which Louis aimed at the English and Dutch commerce soon furnished him with the opportunity he sought. The two governments now entered into an alliance with Austria, who had hitherto been fighting her own battles in Germany and Italy. The chief objects of this alliance were to obtain satisfaction for the Austrian claims on Spain, to rescue the Netherlands from France, to prevent the union of the French and Spanish crowns, and to exclude subjects of the former from the Spanish possessions in the West Indies. In revenge for this impolitic conduct of William, Louis, with equal impolicy, acknowledged the son of the exiled James Stuart as king of England. This insult roused the Protestant party, supplies were voted for the war, and though the king died in the midst of the preparations, Anne succeeded to the same policy.

Here commences the celebrated war of the Succession, which for so many years agitated all Europe, covered the Netherlands with blood, desolated the fairest provinces of Spain, and ended in the loss of her Italian possessions. Omitting all mention of the interminable operations in the Low Countries, Germany, and Italy, in 1702 an expedition consisting of thirty English and twenty Dutch vessels of the line, exclusive of numerous transports, and carrying 11,000 men, was sent against Cadiz. It was headed by the Duke of Ormond, who was totally unqualified for the post, nor were the subordinate generals much more happily chosen. Where the Dutch and the English were jealous of each other, and the officers even in the same army were more inclined to quarrel than to obey, where the commander-in-chief had no influence over any of his officers, concord was impossible. If a plan were proposed by one party, it was sure to be rejected by another. Hence three 1702 days were lost in quarreling on what point the disembarkation might best be effected; a time which the Spanish garrison, at first not exceeding 300 men, employed in recruiting its numbers. Fortunately for the country, the captain-general of Andalusia, Don Francisco de Castilla, marquis of Villadarias, was not only a true patriot, but a brave and able man. Though he could produce but little assistance from the court, which, during the absence of the king in Italy, was a prey to more than usual discord, he drew some hasty supplies from Seville and Cordova, secured the harbor, strengthened the garrison, and, with a small though resolute force, lined the coast to oppose the landing. The disembarkation being at length effected with some loss, the governor of Rota,—the only traitor during the present hostilities,—admitted the invaders, and for his treason was created a marquis by the agent of the archduke. But the inhabitants had little reason to congratulate themselves: they were plundered, insulted, beaten, and even murdered by the licentious soldiery. At the town of Santa Maria, the inhabitants of which fled at the approach of the invaders, greater excesses were committed. Their next step was to assail the fortress of Matagorda, one of the outworks of Cadiz; but, experiencing a warm resistance from the garrison, and from the harassing attacks of Villadarias, they soon desisted from the enterprise. Equally unsuccessful was the attempt of the English ships to force their way into the harbor. To crown their infamy, cowardice was now added to murder and rapine: the invaders precipitately retreated to their ships; 600 of the rear guard were cut to pieces by half the number of pursuers; more still were drowned in their precipitate efforts to regain the ships: all who straggled behind were massacred by the incensed peasantry. The armament returned, and in Vigo Bay it destroyed the greater part of a Spanish and French fleet, rich by the productions of the Indies.

The fate of the governor of Rota, who on the retreat of the English had been hanged by order of Villadarias, did not deter a nobleman of the highest rank, of great power, and still greater riches from the same treason. The admiral of Castile, who in the preceding reign had dispensed the patronage of the crown, from no other feeling than disappointed ambition at seeing the Cardinal Portocarrero in possession of a post to which he considered himself entitled, opened a treasonable correspondence with the court of Vienna. Being suspected, and ordered on an embassy to France,—perhaps, 1703 as he feared, to be imprisoned by Louis,—he accepted the proffered dignity, but had proceeded only three days’ journey when he turned aside and rapidly fled to Lisbon, with the intention of persuading the Portuguese king, who had hitherto remained neutral, to join the confederates against Philip. His intrigues in a few short months did more for the allied cause than would have been effected by the English cabinet in as many years: he drew the Portuguese king into the confederacy, and persuaded Leopold to allow the archduke to visit the Peninsula. The treaty which was signed at Lisbon in May, 1703, was as infamous to the character of its partisans as any other transaction of this war. Though the constable was a grandee of Spain, he consented to its dismemberment. Badajoz, Albuquerque, Tuy, Bayona, Vigo, and other frontier cities were to be surrendered to Don Pedro; nor did the archduke hesitate to sanction this insulting injustice to a country the integrity of which, in the event of his succession, he would have been so solemnly bound to defend. On his side, Pedro engaged to maintain 15,000 men at his own expense, and 13,000 at that of the allies.

On the return of Philip he found the government embarrassed, and the nation indignant at the recent loss of his wealthy galleons in Vigo Bay. He found, too, the divisions in his cabinet more bitter than even at the period of his departure. Through the Princess Orsini, who was intended to be the passive agent of Louis, yet who often showed that she could pursue plans of her own with even more success than his, the haughty count de Marsin, ambassador of France, had been replaced by the Cardinal d’Estrées. To the same influence was owing the declining power of Cardinal Portocarrero, and the ascendancy of the Conde de Montellano, who showed more deference to the queen’s favorite. D’Estrées, a man of considerable talent, of great family, and highly in favor with Louis, committed the same errors as his predecessors; he disdained to win the princess: like them, in a few short months, the same influence procured his recall, his own nephew, the Abbé d’Estrées, being made an instrument of his disgrace. At the same time the Spanish cardinal retired in disgust from the helm of affairs. These changes of men and measures could not fail to prove disastrous: they showed that at court, where union and vigor were necessary to free the soil of the country from the miseries of foreign invasion, nothing but caprice or indecision prevailed.

While this feeble cabinet was thus a prey to the basest passions, the storm of war again lowered on the frontier. In pursuance1704 of the treaty with Portugal 12,000 English and Dutch troops, who were soon joined by the Archduke Charles in person, were landed in that country. But the Duke de Schomberg, the general of the English forces, was a man of factitious reputation; he was far inferior in either activity or ability to the Duke of Berwick, a son of the English James II. whom Louis placed at the head of the combined French and Spanish army. Yet if this celebrated man had abilities of the highest order, joined with native generosity of mind, he was not fitted to exercise much sway in Spain. He was too proud to flatter the queen or the Princess Orsini: he despised courtly intrigues, and his discipline was so severe that it displeased his followers, whom laxity had enervated. By all, however, he was respected, and by all was confidence deservedly placed in his talents. With a force considerably superior to that of the enemy, divided into three bodies, and accompanied by Philip in person, he advanced into Portugal. First, Salvatierra was invested and reduced; other fortresses as far as Castel-branco shared the same fate. But these advantages were not gained without loss; the Portuguese peasantry, from hereditary enmity to the Spaniards, made a noble defense even in the open towns and villages—a fact to which Berwick himself bears honorable testimony. Having fought his way through an angry population, that strong fortress could not long withstand assaults at once vigorous and well directed: in four days it was taken and pillaged. During these operations the allies had continued almost motionless or been silently gathering round Lisbon in the expectation of a siege, but on the compulsory retreat of Berwick, the Marquis das Minas, the only good officer in the Portuguese service, took the field, defeated Ronquillo, one of the Spanish generals, and in a few days rescued Castel-branco, with several of the fortresses which had been reduced. Under the walls of Monscato a still more decisive advantage was gained over Ronquillo. The skill of Das Minas was equal to his valor: he baffled every attempt of Berwick to dislodge him from the strong position he occupied in the pass of Peñamaçon, and even forced that general to return across the frontier. The reduction of Castel de Vida by the Marquis of Villadarias was the last exploit of this campaign, which the summer heats and the scarcity of provender for the horses now brought to a close. Berwick razed the 1705 fortifications of his conquests, broke up his camp, and retired to Salamanca, whence he cautiously watched the proceedings of Das Minas, who advanced to Almeida. As for Schomberg, he did nothing during the whole campaign, says Berwick, but move from place to place with his army: he was consequently removed, and succeeded by Lord Galway, a man more imbecile than himself. Subsequently, after the summer heats were passed, hostilities were resumed, but with as little effect, and towards the close of the campaign Berwick was recalled.

While these indecisive events were passing in Portugal, an expedition, under the prince of Darmstadt and Sir George Rooke, the English admiral, proceeded to Barcelona. The prince had boasted—whether through credulity or duplicity is needless to inquire—that no sooner should the standard of Charles be erected than it would be joined by thousands of the disaffected Catalans. But though sufficiently inclined to throw off their allegiance to Philip, none joined the English, who, after an ineffectual attempt on Barcelona, reëmbarked and returned towards Portugal. On their passage, however, they took Gibraltar, and Sir George had the satisfaction to inflict some loss on the French fleet off the coast of Malaga. But the transactions of the year were little honorable to the allies of Austria. Notwithstanding their formidable preparations, no impression was made on the power of Philip.

The following year was destined to prove more memorable, and more successful to the allies. Gibraltar, the blockade of which had been commenced the preceding October by the Marquis of Villadarias, and which was now pressed by Tessé, the successor of Berwick, made so gallant a defense that in May its siege was raised. The operations, however, on the Estremadura frontiers were slow, ill-judged, and indecisive, and do not deserve mention. But in the eastern parts of Spain the aspect of affairs was more striking. Though disappointed at the ill-success of its imbecile generals, the English cabinet was emboldened by the victories of Marlborough to make new and mightier efforts against the Bourbon prince in the south. Accordingly in June 15,000 men under Lord Peterborough were dispatched to Spain. This extraordinary man, whose eccentricities even surpassed his genius, was admirably adapted for partisan warfare, or for a separate subordinate command where desperate valor was likely to prove more useful than sober courage. On arriving at Lisbon he was joined by the Archduke 1705 Charles, who was justly disgusted with the ill-success of his affairs in Portugal. The expedition now proceeded through the straits of Gibraltar, uncertain as to its destination; but the prince of Darmstadt, who during the last insurrection of the Catalans had served in that province, persuaded the archduke to advance against Barcelona. When the fleet arrived off the Valencian coast the same feeling was found to exist in that province. The chiefs disembarked and were joined by numbers of the disaffected: the garrison of Denia was compelled to surrender and witness the proclamation of Charles III. On arriving before Barcelona, a project equally bold, and one which might have proved equally rash, was formed by him. He saw that the fortifications were in the best state and well defended, and he knew that an army four times as numerous as the one he commanded would be necessary to form the first line of circumvallation; nor was there any hope of recruiting his troops by desertions from the Catalans until some instance of decided success had blown the smothered disposition into a flame. In this emergency he resolved to attempt the surprise of the fortress of Montjuich, which overlooks the city and the possession of which would, if not decide, at least prepare, the surrender of Barcelona. But that fortress being built on the summit of an abrupt hill and protected by formidable works, was considered impregnable, and impregnable it would have proved to an open attack. Secrecy being the soul of his enterprise, which he did not communicate even to the archduke, with the view of lulling the garrison into security, he reëmbarked his great guns and announced his intention of sailing for Italy. But the very night appointed for his departure he silently moved 1,400 men towards the works, acquainted the gallant Darmstadt with his intention, and both heroes on reaching the foot of the ramparts waited until day should dawn. The assault was then vigorously made by about 300 men. According to anticipation, the Spaniards left the upper works to combat so small a band below; they were instantly repulsed, and were pursued through the covered way: the bastion fell into the possession of the assailants. At the same time another party scaled the western part of Montjuich and seized three pieces of ordnance; a resolute garrison was in consequence compelled to remain in the keep, since it could not issue out without being exposed to a murderous fire. To reduce that inner fort. Peterborough sent for a reinforcement of 1,000 men, whom he had left about a quarter of a mile from 1706 the works: at the same time 900 of the garrison of Barcelona advanced to the relief of their fellow-soldiers, and 200 were fortunate enough to enter the keep. The cannon of the English was soon brought to bear on the keep; a shell accidentally falling into the powder magazine, killing the principal officers while at dinner, hastened its surrender. From this elevation the artillery of the English played with tremendous effect on the ramparts of the city; a breach was made and a day appointed for the assault. But the governor, Velasco, though among the bravest of the brave, to avoid the horrors attending a storming, offered to capitulate if in four days the place were not relieved. Even this period was shortened, which enabled Velasco to escape on board an English vessel. On October 23 the Archduke Charles solemnly entered and was proclaimed king of Spain. The example of the capital was followed by the rest of the principality, all the towns of which, except Rosas and Cervera, declared for the Austrian.

The reduction of Barcelona and the insurrection of Valencia could not fail to make a profound impression at Madrid. By this time Philip seems to have attained a salutary conviction that unless he assumed an activity corresponding to his circumstances, his reign would soon be at an end; he accordingly resolved to take the field in person. Having petitioned Louis for a powerful reinforcement, and withdrawn most of the troops engaged on the frontiers of Portugal—leaving a handful only under Berwick, who had been again ordered to assume the conduct of the western war—he proceeded to invest Barcelona, the recovery of which would naturally constrain the submission of Catalonia, and perhaps put an end to the war by the capture of his rival. Philip having reached the army at Alcañiz, proceeded towards the capital, under the walls of which he was joined by the Duke de Noailles; and he had the gratification of seeing the entrance to the harbor blockaded by a fleet of thirty sail. But resistance grew at length languid, and a day was fixed for the assault; in a few hours Philip was assured that the enemy would be in his power. At this critical moment, when the sun of Charles seemed to be set forever, a British squadron appeared in sight; the French fleet, with inconceivable cowardice, retired towards Toulon; the English and Dutch landed. Philip was himself now besieged; but in the silence of night, forsaking his guns, his baggage, and even his wounded, he made a precipitate though reluctant retreat. 1706 Knowing that Aragon was rising against him, his only refuge was on the frontiers of France; in his flight he was still harassed by the active Peterborough; but having remained a few days at Perpignan, he precipitately and without an escort passed to Pamplona, where he met indeed with professions of attachment, but no real service. At this time his affairs seemed hopeless. The Duke of Marlborough had just triumphed at Ramilies; a French army in Italy had been almost annihilated; and the war in his own western provinces was no less disastrous than in the eastern. Great as were the abilities of Berwick, his small band could not face the 40,000 enemies before him; he therefore retreated, had the mortification to witness the capture of Alcantara, Ciudad Rodrigo, and Salamanca, and the approach of the confederates towards Madrid, who had agreed to effect a junction with their allies from the east. To defend that capital with 8,000 men, the only remaining force of the monarchy, would have been madness. By his advice the court was removed to Burgos, the ancient capital of Castile. It was high time, for scarcely had Philip left it than the light troops of Galway and Das Minas appeared in sight, and on the 28th day of June those chiefs, at the head of 30,000 men, made a triumphant entry into Madrid.

To ordinary and even to many acute observers the Bourbon power seemed forever fallen in the Peninsula. Without forces, without money, a fugitive from his capital, which was occupied by a formidable enemy, his fairest provinces in the power of his rival, Philip was expected to retreat into France. But he had no such intention; adversity called forth powers which had hitherto slumbered within him, and the existence of which had not been suspected perhaps even by himself. When the allied troops had entered into Madrid no shout had been raised in favor of Charles; a mournful silence reigned on every side, and though the archduke had been proclaimed by his generals, and some disaffected nobles nominated his ministers, the ceremony was ominously lifeless. Madrid was not Spain, and the Spaniards were not Flemings—facts of which the allied generals had soon a melancholy experience. In Castile almost every individual became a soldier. Estremadura furnished and equipped 12,000; in Salamanca no sooner had the allies left it on the march to the capital than the inhabitants arose, again proclaimed Philip, and levied a body of troops to cut off all communication between them and 1706-1707 Portugal. Toledo, indeed, declared for Charles, but this was a mere temporary impulse, excited by the queen-dowager, his uncle, and by Cardinal Portocarrero, who, from hatred to the French, was now willing to undo his own great work. The rising spirit of the people was not the only cause of this change; the allied generals grew suddenly inactive; the troops in Madrid abandoned themselves to many excesses, which they found more attractive than the fatigues and dangers of a campaign, and Charles himself wasted so much time in Barcelona and Aragon that when he joined his generals at Guadalaxara he perceived the active Berwick at the head of a greater force than his own. By that able man his communication with Aragon was intercepted; it had already been cut off with Portugal; Andalusia was in arms; so that his only way of escape was to the capital or into Valencia. But Madrid was waiting the arrival of a detachment from the army of Berwick to throw off his yoke; he therefore commenced his retreat towards that kingdom, and was pursued by the enemy, who caused him great loss. Philip joined in the pursuit as far as the confines of Murcia, witnessed the reduction of Orihuela, Cuenca, and Carthagena, and returned in triumph to Madrid, which received him with enthusiastic demonstrations of joy. In punishing the Austrian partisans he showed becoming forbearance. Cardinal Portocarrero was forgiven in memory of his past services, and the queen-dowager was respectfully escorted out of Spain. Thus ended this wonderful campaign—wonderful alike from its rapid changes and from the chivalrous fidelity of the Castilians.

The tide of success had now set in too strongly to be stemmed by any barrier opposed by the allies. On the plain of Almanza Das Minas and Galway were signally defeated by the able Berwick. This victory established the throne of Philip; it inspired his adherents with confidence; in the same degree it dispirited his enemies, and it was followed by advantages of still greater moment. While the Duc d’Orleans, who arrived with reinforcements from France, led an army into Aragon, Berwick proceeded to reduce the fortresses of Valencia. The capitals of both kingdoms submitted without striking a blow; in the former the example was imitated by the remaining strong places; in the latter Denia, Xativa, and Alicante resisted, but were ultimately reduced. In punishment of their desperate valor the inhabitants of Xativa 1707-1710 were barbarously butchered, the walls were razed to the ground, and when it was subsequently rebuilt it was not allowed to retain its former name, but received that of San Felipe. But the heaviest of all penalties was the abolition of the ancient fueros, both of Aragon and Valencia, by a royal decree of June 29, 1707. The same fate had been decreed against the privileges of Catalonia, the recovery of which now occupied the cares of the French generals. But before this object could be gained new and almost unparalleled difficulties had to be encountered. Naples was conquered by the Austrians, and Milan was already in their power. Tortosa made a long and brilliant defense; some reinforcements were received from England; Galway was displaced by Stanhope, an officer of courage and experience; Count Stahremberg, the imperial general, arrived with auxiliaries, and the Balearic Isles were reduced by the allies. In the memorable campaign of 1710 Philip failed against Balaguer and was defeated by Stahremberg at Almenara, still more signally near Saragossa; though he was forced to retreat to his capital, and immediately afterwards to transfer his court from Madrid, which he was again destined to see in the power of his enemies, to Valladolid, still he had the consolation to find that his reverses endeared him to his people, and that Spanish loyalty and honor were not to be shaken. Add to this that the victory of La Godiña obtained over the luckless Galway the recovery of Ciudad Rodrigo, and the reduction of some Portuguese fortresses on the Estremadura frontier, had preceded the important campaign of 1710, and had naturally encouraged many to remain firm in their loyalty. The character of Philip was evidently improved by increased adversities, and so great was the attachment borne to him that when his rival Charles entered the capital (in October) scarcely a “viva!” was raised even by the lowest of the mob. Charles was soon disgusted with Madrid; he left it the following month, and was scarcely beyond the gates when he had the mortification to hear the bells merrily ringing for his departure. Again was Philip recalled by the inhabitants of Madrid, who greeted him with their warmest acclamations. But the time was too precious to be wasted; accompanied by the Duke de Vendôme, who had arrived from France to take the place of the Duc d’Orleans, he hastened in pursuit of the allies. At Brihuega they overtook Stanhope, at the head of 5,500 men, chiefly English.

The following morning Stahremberg, who had been requested by Stanhope to advance to the relief of his allies, arrived within1710-1711 sight of the place, and Vendôme prepared to receive him. In the battle which ensued fortune at first declared for Vendôme; a vigorous charge of the imperial general turned it in favor of the allies; the French duke, with Philip, was preparing to flee, when the reserves, being brought up by the Marquis de Valdecañas, and a fierce attack being made on the flank of Stahremberg, it remained with the victors of Stanhope. But the latter, with a valor scarcely ever surpassed, retained possession of the field until night closed the conflict. For this reason, he, as well as Vendôme, claimed the victory; but it is certain that whatever advantage was gained lay with the latter. Before daybreak the following morning he spiked his cannon, and commenced his hasty retreat to Barcelona; nor were his losses during this precipitate march less disastrous than in the field of battle.

These disasters, at a time when the allied cause was expected to be resistless, the amazing sacrifices of men and money which England had so long and so unwisely made, and, above all, the change of Queen Anne’s ministry, strongly indisposed her people to the continuation of the war. Besides, by the death of the emperor Joseph, in April, 1711, Charles, the last male of his house, succeeded to immense possessions, and would, probably, be invested with the imperial dignity,—an expectation indeed soon verified by the event;—and the union of so many states with the crown of Spain threatened to become no less fatal to the pretended balance of power than even the union of France and Spain. By the new ministry overtures of negotiation were secretly made to the French court, and were eagerly accepted by Louis, who, in artfully affording the prospect of peculiar commercial advantages to the English, could not fail to dispose in his views a people peculiarly alive to such advantages. At length the preliminaries to a separate treaty between France and England were signed; by them the Protestant succession was recognized in Queen Anne and her successors; the works of Dunkirk were to be razed; Gibraltar, Minorca, St. Christopher’s, and the monopoly of the asiento, or supply of slaves for the Spanish colonies, were ceded for a period to the English; they were also secured an establishment on the Rio de la Plata, an exemption from certain duties in the port of Cadiz, and generally the same privileges of trade in Spain as were enjoyed by the French. 1711-1713 In the same preliminaries it was agreed that early the following year conferences should be opened for a general peace at Utrecht. During these negotiations, the nature of which was concealed from the world, the war in Catalonia languished, especially after Charles left Barcelona to take possession of his hereditary states. But he promised to return with new reinforcements, and to prove his sincerity he left his queen to exercise the regency in Catalonia and his general Stahremberg with all his disposable forces to prosecute the war. On reaching Milan he was acquainted with his election to the empire. His first object was to counteract the new policy of England by drawing closer the bonds which connected him with Holland. But his efforts were unavailing: the conferences were duly opened at Utrecht; England openly seceded from the grand alliance, and orders were sent for the reëmbarkation of the English troops in Catalonia. These orders were of necessity obeyed, notwithstanding the indignant representations of the Catalans that they had been drawn into the war by England, and had done nothing to deserve so shameful an abandonment. The negotiations still continued, though subject to some suspensions. At length Louis, having consented to swear that the two crowns of France and Spain should never be united on the same head, and Philip having renounced, both for himself and his successors, all claim to the former—engagements which neither considered binding—a general peace was signed, April 11, 1713, by the ambassadors of all the sovereigns except the emperor. Its provisions, as far as Spain was concerned, were few but momentous. Philip was acknowledged king of Spain and the Indies; but Sicily, with the regal title, was ceded to the Duke of Savoy, and Milan, Naples, Sardinia, and the Netherlands, to the emperor;^[33] Gibraltar and Minorca, with the commercial advantages before mentioned, to the English; a general amnesty was guaranteed to the Catalans, but without any stipulations for the preservation of their ancient fueros. In case Philip died without issue, the succession was to devolve, not on a prince of the house of France, but on the Duke of Savoy.

By this celebrated peace Spain was stripped of half her possessions in Europe. For this dismemberment of the monarchy Philip cannot be blamed: Milan and Naples had long been held by the rival house; their recovery was not to be expected; the two Italian islands, Sardinia and Sicily, could no longer be retained; 1713 and the Netherlands were forever lost. The War of the Succession was now virtually at an end: Charles, disabled by the defection of his allies, had already opened negotiations for withdrawing his troops from Catalonia, and though the inhabitants of the capital were resolved to continue the struggle unaided, it could not be of long continuance. Neither this war nor the peace which followed it was honorable to the allies. Its injustice is manifest: it was undertaken to dethrone a monarch whom the Spanish people had chosen, and to whom they adhered with unparalleled fidelity, and to replace him by a prince for whom they entertained no other sentiment than abhorrence: it was, moreover, an insult to the national independence, an odious violation of international law.

When the Catalans knew that the king had resolved to abolish their fueros, and that neither honor nor justice was to be expected from England, nay, when assured that the emperor himself, who was no match single-handed for France, was compelled to forsake them, instead of bewailing their situation they manfully resolved to continue in arms against the whole force of the Bourbons. They rejected the proffered amnesty of Philip, unless their privileges were to be declared inviolable. The Catalans did not fall without one of the noblest struggles on record. An overwhelming army reduced all their fortresses, except Cardona and the capital; the latter was invested, held for months in a state of blockade, while a formidable artillery played, with few intermissions, on the walls. In the spring of 1714, Berwick, with 20,000 Frenchmen, arrived to reinforce the besiegers, and an English squadron was dispatched for the same purpose. Nothing could daunt the inhabitants; all who were strong enough flew to arms; even the women and the ecclesiastics, whose patriotism is usually more tranquil, enrolled themselves in the ranks and fought with desperation. On the death of Anne, whose ministers had so basely betrayed them, they hoped that justice might be admitted into the cabinet of Britain: but a change of dynasty brought no change in the former policy. Before the final assault of Barcelona, which was fixed for the morning of September 11, Berwick proposed a favorable capitulation to the people: his proposal was rejected because it did not guarantee the preservation of their fueros. Nothing now remained but to make the last awful attempt. Fifty companies of grenadiers advanced; they were supported by forty more; but before they 1713-1714 could win the bastion whole ranks were swept away by grapeshot. Even when this object was gained, the streets were found to be barricaded, and a murderous fire to be sustained from almost every window. Of the desperate valor of the besieged some idea may be formed when it is known that in the course of this eventful day the bastion of San Pedro was won and lost eleven times: women and priests advanced to the charge with amazing impetuosity, and such was the havoc which they and their comrades inflicted on the enemy that in one regiment, long before the close of the struggle, every superior officer had fallen and an ensign remained with the command. But numbers prevailed: after twelve hours of incessant fighting, the small remnant of Catalans began to give way; a white flag was hoisted, the carnage was suspended, negotiations were opened; but as the deputies still insisted on the inviolability of their ancient rights, they were hastily broken off. During the night a fire of musketry was maintained from the houses, but in the morning of September 12, when Berwick, proceeding to put all to the sword and burn the city to the ground, had ordered several houses to be set on fire, the leaders consented to capitulate. The chief conditions were that their lives should be spared and their property respected; but that they should surrender both the fortress of Montjuich and Cardona.

During these eventful hostilities the court of Madrid pursued its usual career of intrigue and imbecility. The ascendency of the queen, and, through her, of the Princess Orsini, remained uncontrolled, and it continued to be exercised either beneficially or injuriously to the country, according to the nature of the petty or base passions which it was employed to gratify. In return for his renunciation of all future claim to the crown of France, in 1712 Philip forced, rather than persuaded, his council to alter the order of succession in Spain—to introduce a sort of Salic law, by which the most distant male of the family would be called to the inheritance in preference to the nearest female. Even after the death of the queen of Spain, in February, 1714, who left two sons, the infantes Luis and Ferdinand, Orsini’s influence remained paramount; during the preceding years she had rendered herself no less necessary to the king than to Maria Theresa, and she was now more so than ever. Perceiving that Philip would not long remain without a queen, it was the Princess Orsini’s aim to provide him with one who would be as flexible to her purposes as the last—one without 1714 energy of character, who would take no part in court intrigues, and would leave her an important share in the government. At this period the celebrated Cardinal Alberoni appears on the stage of Spanish history: he had entered the country as the agent of the Duke of Parma, and had been favored by Vendôme, who had secured him a considerable pension on the see of Valencia: even now the Marquis Casali, ambassador of Parma, abandoned to him the chief affairs of his mission. In this capacity he had access to the court, where he soon gained the confidence of the princess. Seeing her embarrassment in choosing a wife for the king, he one day proposed Isabel Farnese, daughter of the late and niece of the present Duke of Parma, whom he represented as simple, devout, immured from the world, and exactly fitted to become her instrument. In this proposal he had a double view—both to conciliate the favor of his own court and to ruin the princess,—for well he knew that Isabel, who was of character totally different from that which he had drawn, could never be ruled. The choice was approved by the favorite; negotiations were secretly opened for the marriage; the papal dispensation—for the princess was nearly related to the deceased queen—was procured; and the favorite exulted in the prospect of continued rule, when she discovered the real character of her future mistress. To prevent the execution of the match was her instant resolve, and though the necessary powers had been sent to celebrate the nuptials, she dispatched a trusty agent to Parma; but he did not arrive until the morning of the nuptials; and as his purpose was suspected, he was not suffered to enter the city until the ceremony by proxy was concluded. But her confidence did not forsake her: she affected great delight at the marriage, and accompanied the king to Alcala to await the arrival of the new queen. Leaving the king in that town, whom she was destined to see no more, she proceeded towards Guadalaxara. But Alberoni, who had met his royal mistress at Pamplona, and had been created a count,—had, doubtless, fixed the fate of this favorite—doubtless, too, even with the full connivance of Philip. Scarcely was the Princess Orsini introduced to Isabel when, by order of the latter, she was arrested and hurried towards the frontier. At St. Jean de Luz she was set at liberty; her wardrobe, jewels, and money were forwarded to her and she was permitted to revisit Paris. But even here the vengeance of the new queen pursued her: she was compelled to return to Avignon; from 1715-1717 there she passed to Rome, where she ended her days in the household of the unfortunate Stuart.

The disgrace of the Princess Orsini was followed by the removal of Orri and her other creatures from the administration. Like her predecessor Maria Theresa, Isabel succeeded to the most unbounded power over the royal mind, especially after the death of Louis XIV., whom Philip had been accustomed to regard with mingled reverence and fear. That event changed his policy. Next to Louis XV., now a child, he was the heir to the French crown—his renunciation to procure the peace of Utrecht had been esteemed both by himself and his grandfather a farce—and as such he might aspire to the regency. It was dexterously seized by the Duc d’Orleans, a circumstance which alienated him from the French court. This indisposition was strengthened by the queen, whose measures were irresistible, whose talents were of a higher order than her predecessors, whose power of dissimulation would have been honored even in Italy, and who aspired to place a son of her own (in 1716 she was delivered of the infante Don Carlos) on the throne of France, or at least to procure for one the ducal crowns of Parma, Placentia, and Tuscany, to the succession of which, in default of heirs male by the reigning dukes, she might look forward with hope. To the attainment of these objects, and the continuation of the Spanish influence in Italy, her whole soul was bent: hence, as she was in reality sovereign of Spain, the policy of the monarchy during the remainder of her husband’s life was necessarily subservient to her purposes. The favorite and adviser was naturally Alberoni, a priest of commanding abilities. Having, by his dexterous intrigues no less than the queen’s favor, annihilated the power of the prime minister, the Cardinal del Giudice, and obtained the direction of affairs, Alberoni began to exhibit his designs on Italy which were so injurious to the Austrian domination in that peninsula. They could not be wholly hidden from the imperial court: hence distrust, next ill-will, between Madrid and Vienna. The impolitic and arbitrary arrest of the Spanish ambassador in Italy, by the emperor’s order, so irritated Philip that he resolved on war, even though he knew that a triple alliance had been formed between France, England, and Holland to preserve the integrity of the treaty of Utrecht. As Spain was sure to stand alone in the conflict, and might probably be opposed to all Europe. Alberoni strongly disapproved the war, 1717-1718 until he saw that by persisting in his fruitless opposition he should only seal his own disgrace. From that moment he showed great alacrity in preparing for it. With the view of conferring greater luster on his character and administration—he was now (1717) the acknowledged minister—he compelled the pope to bestow on him the dignity of cardinal. That of grandee, with the bishopric of Malaga, and subsequently the archbishopric of Seville, was added by the Spanish monarch. In August an armament, consisting of twelve ships and 9,000 men, left Barcelona and steered for Sardinia. In about two months the island was subdued. But this conquest was intended merely as the prelude to others of far higher moment,—the recovery of Sicily and Naples. Preparations on a more extended scale were hastened, and their destination, as in the former case, kept profoundly secret. But it was suspected; and England, as one of the guarantees to the peace of Utrecht, after vainly endeavoring to dispose the Spanish court to a reconciliation with the emperor, equipped an armament to resist the aggressions of that power. In June, 1718, the Spanish fleet, consisting of 23 ships and 30,000 men, again left Barcelona, cast anchor at Cape Solanto, about four leagues from Palermo, and landed the forces. Europe beheld with some alarm this vigorous and unexpected effort of a power which, since the reign of Philip II., had sunk into insignificance. In the apprehension of another war not less fatal than that which had been ended by the peace of Utrecht, France now joined with England and Austria to humble the aspiring views of Alberoni; and the Dutch were drawn into the treaty, which was afterwards known by the name of the quadruple alliance. Palermo and Messina (except the citadel) were speedily occupied; the whole island was preparing to receive the Spanish yoke, when the British fleet, under Admiral Byng, arrived off the Sicilian coast. In the action which followed the Spanish fleet was almost wholly taken or destroyed. In revenge, Alberoni entered into an alliance with Charles XII. of Sweden and the Czar Peter to assist the Stuart in an invasion of Great Britain; but the death of the Swedish hero frustrated his hopes. His next step was to organize a conspiracy the object of which was to arrest the French regent, the Duc d’Orleans, and to proclaim Philip as the guardian of the infante Louis. It was discovered, and war naturally declared against Spain. At the head of 30,000 men the celebrated Berwick passed the Pyrenees into Biscay, while Philip and the cardinal advanced to oppose; but 1718-1720 seeing the superiority of his force, they halted at Pamplona, and had the mortification to learn the reduction of Fuentarabia, San Antonio, and San Sebastian. From Biscay, Berwick retraced his steps across the Pyrenees, traversed Bearne, invaded Catalonia, took Urgel, and, after an ineffectual attempt on Rosas, retired into Roussillon. Undaunted by these reverses, the cardinal fitted out at Cadiz a formidable expedition, which he professed to be directed against Sicily, but which he dispatched under the Duke of Ormond towards Scotland to assist in placing James Stuart on the throne of Britain. But a fatality seems to have attended all Spanish armaments against this country. Off Cape Finisterre the present one was dispersed by a violent storm: two frigates only reached their destination, and the handful of troops they poured on the Scottish coast was soon compelled to surrender. In revenge a British squadron committed great devastations on the coast of Galicia.

In Sicily affairs began to assume an appearance equally unfavorable for this enterprising minister. Victor Asmodeus acceded to the quadruple alliance, Austrian troops were poured into the island, and the Spaniards were driven from their plains into the fortified places. Shortly afterwards Holland also acceded; so that the cardinal beheld the realization of his fears. Spain now stood alone against armed Europe. These misfortunes made a deep impression on the mind of Philip, who began to regard his minister with an unfriendly eye. This dissatisfaction was zealously fomented by the allies, who dreaded the aspiring genius of this minister.

Through means sufficiently characteristic of a court, even the queen was gained; and the cardinal, in the height of his power, and totally unsuspicious of his situation, received a sudden order to leave Madrid in a week, and the Spanish dominions in three. He traversed the south of France, embarked at Antibes, landed at Sestri de Levante, with the intention of proceeding to the papal court; but receiving an order not to enter the territory of the church, he plunged into the Apennines, where he was soon lost to the world, though he was subsequently a great favorite with the Roman See. As with his life in Italy this compendium has no concern, we shall only remark that while in power he introduced many and most salutary improvements into the internal administration; that he restored to a considerable extent the national prosperity; and that he was beyond all comparison the 1720-1724 greatest minister the country had possessed since the famous Cardinal Ximenes Cisneros.

After the removal of the cardinal Philip acceded, though not without reluctance, to the quadruple alliance. In consequence he renounced all claim to the dismembered provinces of the monarchy, consented to see Sicily transferred to the emperor and Sardinia to the duke of Savoy; in return he was acknowledged by his old rival as king of Spain and the Indies, and the reversion of the two Italian principalities was entailed on the issue of his present marriage—on the condition, however, that they should never be united with the Spanish crown. In revenge, and because he really found that his best dependence was in his own family, in 1721 he contracted a double matrimonial alliance with the hereditary enemy of England; his eldest son Luis was contracted with Louise Isabelle, daughter of the Duc d’Orleans and his daughter Maria Ana, by Isabel Farnese, with the youthful monarch of France. The latter marriage, however, owing to the tender age of the infanta, was never celebrated, and Luis subsequently received the hand of a Polish princess, a daughter of the exiled Stanislas Leczinski. Soon after this marriage he formed a resolution which filled all Europe with astonishment, that of abdicating the crown in favor of his son and of retiring to the splendid palace of San Ildefonso, which he had himself founded. The decree of abdication was dated July 10, 1724, and Philip, having solemnly vowed never to resume the crown, retired in a few days to his chosen retreat. But his worldly passions never forsook him; the feeble health of Louis XV. afforded him the prospect of soon succeeding to that splendid inheritance; his hopes were fostered by his queen, who detested Spain, and was detested by it in return; nor did he leave to his son more than a nominal authority. The court of the youthful Luis was filled with his own creatures, who paid more deference to him than to their new monarch; nor was anything of moment undertaken without his previous sanction. The irregularities of the court afforded him sufficient pretext for interference. Philip was soon disgusted with his exclusion from the exercise of royalty, especially when he learned that the decease of the French king was not so probable an event as he had been led to anticipate; his own son, whose conduct was filial enough in points of minor importance, submitted with impatience to the mandates from San Ildefonso; the new ministry began to devise 1724-1726 the removal of the galling-restraint, when the death of Luis (who by will declared him successor) by the smallpox again induced him to claim the sovereignty.

The restoration of Philip was naturally that of his queen’s policy—the establishment, by treaty or force, of his son Don Carlos in the Italian principalities. This, with other objects, had been urged in the congress of Cambray, assembled to reconcile the jarring interests of the European powers; but each was too intent on its own aggrandizement to plead with vigor the cause of another. Indignant at the evident lukewarmness of England, France, and Holland in a matter which they themselves had proposed to advocate, he suddenly swerved from his past policy and dispatched an ambassador to Vienna to obtain from the emperor, hitherto his bitter rival, advantages which were not to be expected from the interested delays of the mediators. The person employed in this mission was one of the most extraordinary characters in political life. The Baron de Ripperda, a Catholic gentleman of Spanish descent, but a native of the Netherlands, of good education but of no principle, perceiving that his religion was a barrier to his ambition in his native country, embraced the Protestant, and was returned a deputy to the states-general. Being selected for the difficult mission, in November, 1725, he repaired secretly to Vienna and actively commenced his conference with the imperial ministers. Early in the following year three treaties were signed. By the first the investiture of the Italian principalities was insured to Don Carlos, and in return Philip abandoned all claim to Naples and Sicily and consented to be satisfied with the reversion of Sardinia. By the second, to encourage the trade of the Netherlands at the expense of England and Holland, the most favored privileges were conferred on the maritime subjects of the emperor and on the Hanse Towns. The third was secret, but its articles are said to have referred, among other matters, to the forcible recovery of Gibraltar, and to the restoration of James Stuart to the English throne. In addition, a marriage was doubtless negotiated between Don Carlos and an archduchess, but it was never concluded.

The chief remaining transactions of this eventful reign must be related with greater brevity. For some time after Spain adhered to the German alliance, and was alternately friendly or adverse to England, according as the policy of the two courts harmonized 1726-1735 or varied. Gibraltar was more than once besieged, but without effect. British armaments frequently appeared off the Spanish coast, but without inflicting much injury. As the emperor was naturally averse again to admit the Spaniards into Italy, and sought for delays, even for evasions, in fulfilling his compact, in 1729 the treaty of Seville, between Spain, England and France, broke the connection between the courts of Vienna and Madrid. The king of France could have no objection to see a Bourbon prince in possession of Parma and Tuscany; the transfer of commercial advantages from the emperor’s subjects to the English made George II. no less favorable to the succession of Don Carlos in right of his mother, the Spanish queen. But on the death of Antonio, duke of Parma, the emperor seized that principality; and England, satisfied with the gratification of her sordid interests, showed no disposition until Philip, by threatening to revoke the commercial advantages secured by the treaty of Seville, forced the English king to interfere in behalf of Don Carlos. In virtue of his efforts and the assistance of France, the infante was soon invested with the actual possession of Parma and Placentia and declared successor to Tuscany. But the emperor evidently meditated his expulsion, while the queen of Spain was far from satisfied with the recent acquisitions. As England evinced a disposition to remain on good terms with the emperor, the Bourbons adhered the more closely to each other; the kings of Spain, France, and Sardinia entered into an alliance against Austria. It was now that doubtful measures and useless treaties were succeeded by active and extended hostilities. While one French army crossed the Rhine and another passed the Alps, a Spanish army under Don Carlos invaded Naples and conquered it almost without an effort. Sicily was next reduced, and the infante, by order of Philip, was solemnly crowned king of the Two Sicilies. By the treaty of Vienna in 1735 the emperor, whose arms had been almost uniformly unfortunate, consented to acknowledge Don Carlos, and in return he received Parma and Tuscany. The latter condition was highly disagreeable to the Spanish queen—for in these Italian disputes she again was arbitress of the national policy—but being forsaken by France, she was compelled to submit.

Omitting the petty intrigues in the cabinet of Madrid—the rise of one worthless favorite or the ruin of another—the foreign transactions of the country continued to be sufficiently important. 1735-1741 England was soon brought into hostile collision with this monarchy. One reason was the jealousy entertained of the Bourbon family by the recent acquisition; another was the opposition thrown in the way of English commerce by the ministers of Philip; a still greater was the contraband traffic which England resolved to maintain with the American colonies—a traffic not very honorable to England and deeply injurious to Spain. But Spain had doubtless the greater subject of complaint; her right of search arose from her sovereignty, and had been confirmed by successive treaties; but it was suddenly assailed by the English opposition, which, as in other cases, had, by the most unprincipled exaggerations, the art to interest the nation in the dispute. The fomentation of the public mind drew the ministry, though with evident reluctance, into collision with Spain—a melancholy, but alas! far from solitary instance of the influence which faction can exercise over a democratic spirit, in violation of justice or even of oaths. War was first declared by England; it was followed in Spain; the hostile vessels in the ports of each were confiscated and powerful armaments fitted out by the one to seize, by the other to defend the American possessions; while pirates from Biscay harassed the home trade of England. In the wars which followed the advantage doubtless rested with Spain, since the English armament made little impression on the Spanish colonies, while the Spanish privateers made repeated and invaluable captures. These hostilities, alike desultory and inglorious, notwithstanding occasional exhibitions of brilliant though useless valor by the English, continued during the life of Philip and until the fourth year of his successor’s reign, when Spain, in return for the secession of England from the Austrian interests, consented to a renewal of the former commercial regulations.

The death of the Emperor Charles VI., the famous competitor of Philip, without male issue, stimulated this monarch, as it did other sovereigns, to acts of spoliation. While Bavaria, Saxony, Prussia, and France each pursued its advantage, without regard to the succession which each had guaranteed to the deceased emperor, he looked towards Italy in search of an establishment for the infante Felipe, his second son by the present queen. Hence all Europe was engaged in war. In 1741 an army was sent to Italy, a junction effected with the Neapolitans, and the combined forces marched into Lombardy. But several circumstances impeded 1741-1746 the success of the Spanish arms. The king of Sardinia joined England and Austria; a superior force expelled Montemar, the Spanish general, from his position; a British squadron compelled the king of Naples to observe neutrality, and the troops of that power were consequently recalled. During the following years the war sometimes raged, but often languished, with various success. In the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle in 1748 Spain was disposed to lay down her arms by the cession of Parma, Guastalla, and Placentia to Don Philip. It was, however, agreed that if he ever succeeded to the throne of Naples, the first two should revert to Austria and the last to the king of Sardinia.

Before the conclusion of this peace, in July, 1746, an attack of apoplexy hurried Philip to the grave. His character is apparent enough from his actions; indeed, it requires no other illustration. Whatever might be his general weakness, his unconquerable indolence, his subjections to his queens, he had a sincere desire for the good of Spain, and in part that desire was fulfilled. Under his rule the country enjoyed more prosperity than it had experienced since the days of Philip II. Nor was he deficient in a taste for literature. He founded the royal library of Madrid, the royal Spanish academy, the academy of history, and the academy of San Fernando, for the encouragement of the fine arts. In private life he was a model for princes; he was almost spotless. His only fault, let us rather say his only misfortune, was his want of capacity for the station he occupied; he would have been an admirable private gentleman or an exemplary ecclesiastic.

Ferdinand VI. (1713-1759), second son of the deceased monarch by Maria Luisa of Savoy (the fate of the eldest, Luis, has already been related), was on his succession in his thirty-fourth year. Though he did not want natural affection for his stepbrothers, he was not to be controlled by the queen-dowager, whose influence was forever at an end; nor would he sacrifice the best interests of his kingdom to provide Italian sovereignties for the infantes. Hence, as related towards the close of the late reign, he consented to procure peace for his dominions by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle. His disposition was averse to war, which, as he clearly saw, had obstructed the career of the national improvement; nor was he so blind as to be ignorant that the blood and treasures of his people had been wasted for French or Austrian rather than Spanish objects. He respected the king of France as 1746-1758 the head of his house, but he asserted his resolution not to become the viceroy of that monarch. If to this we add that he was a prince of honor, of integrity, of strict veracity, we shall have said all that truth will permit in his praise. He had the melancholy temperament, the incapacity, the indolence of his father; nor was he less uxorious. His queen, Maria Teresa Magdalena Barbara, daughter of Joam V., king of Portugal, to whom he had been united in 1729, was a woman of engaging manners and of mild disposition, but avaricious.

The reign of Ferdinand exhibits little more than a contest between the British and French agents in support of the respective policy of their nations. The minister Carvajal took part with the former, his colleague Ensenada with the latter. Carvajal, notwithstanding the opposition of the cabinet of Versailles, drew his master into an alliance with Austria and Sardinia for securing their neutrality—an object which England was eager to promote. On the other hand, France triumphed by opposing the infante Felipe, duke of Parma, and Carlos, king of Naples, to the policy of their brother. But this virtuous minister was no slave of England, no blind enemy of France. In the disputes between these powers, though cajoled and flattered and attempted to be wheedled into the views of each, he observed a dignified neutrality, while his colleague Ensenada acted with all the heat of a partisan. In 1754 his death dejected the English as much as it elated the hopes of the French, since it was considered as decisive of Ensenada’s unlimited control; but the party opposed to the Gallic influence succeeded in procuring the nomination to the foreign department of General Wall, an Irishman naturalized in Spain and attached to England. Soon afterwards Ensenada himself was disgraced. But Ferdinand continued to observe a wise and dignified neutrality in the European war occasioned by the rivalry of France and England. Not even the offer of Minorca, which the French conquered from the English, nor that of assisting in the reduction of Gibraltar, could incline the court in favor of the Gallic policy. Equally fruitless was the offer of Gibraltar by the English themselves, as the condition of joining the confederacy against France. But so mild and just and virtuous a prince was not long spared to Spain and to Europe. The death of his queen in 1758 made so deep an impression on his mind that he would never afterwards attend to either affairs of state or the ordinary 1759-1762 enjoyments of life; in twelve months he followed her to the tomb. As he died without issue, he left the crown to his next brother, Don Carlos, king of the Two Sicilies.

By the treaty of Vienna the two crowns of Naples and Spain were never to be placed on the same head; hence Carlos, on his accession to the latter, was compelled to resign the other in favor of a son. As the eldest, Felipe, was a constant prey to mental imbecility, the second, Carlos, succeeded to the rights of primogeniture and was declared heir to the Spanish monarchy; while the third, Ferdinand, was hailed as king of the Two Sicilies. Having appointed a council of regency during the minority of Ferdinand, Carlos bade adieu to his former subjects, whom his administration had strongly attached to his person, embarked, landed at Barcelona, the inhabitants of which he gratified by the restoration of a few privileges, and proceeded to Madrid.

When Carlos ascended the throne in 1759 he found France and Great Britain involved in a war which, under the vigorous administration of William Pitt, later first Earl of Chatham, was highly disastrous to the arms of Louis. The success of the English displeased him; he bore them little good-will; he remembered the obligation to neutrality which in the Italian war they had forced on him; his ears were deafened with the complaints of his people relative to the contraband trade in the West Indies, and he was anxious to procure for his nation a participation in the Newfoundland fishery; nor was he without his fears lest the victors should turn their arms against his richest settlements in the new world. Unable singly to contend with the rulers of the deep, he directed his hopes to the coöperation of France. That power, in the view of repairing its disasters, was no less eager to make common cause with him. The result was an intimate alliance, known by the name of the Family Compact, by which the enemy of either was to be considered the enemy of both, and neither was to make peace without the consent of the other. However secret the articles, they were suspected by Pitt, and he would have anticipated Spain by a declaration of war and by breaking off the hollow negotiations which, to gain time, France had commenced, had he not been replaced at this juncture by a court favorite, the earl of Bute. The new ministry were made the dupes of the Bourbon courts; the negotiations were artfully prolonged until the arrival of the Spanish treasures from the 1763-1775 Indies, and until preparations were made by both countries to carry on the war with vigor. The mask was then dropped and hostilities invited. However despicable the English ministry, under a sovereign more feeble even than his predecessors, Pitt had given to every branch of the public service a vigor which in the present war secured the triumph of English arms. In the West Indies Havana, in the East, Manila, were taken; nor were the allied French and Spanish arms successful in Portugal, which in punishment of its connection with England was invaded by 22,000 men under the Marquis de Soria. They could only take Almeida before they were compelled to retire within the Spanish territory. In this emergency the two courts turned their eyes towards peace, which was concluded at Paris, February 10, 1763. Omitting the concessions made by France, Spain purchased the restoration of the conquests which had been made by the cession of Florida, by the permission to cut logwood in the bay of Honduras and by a renunciation of all claim to the Newfoundland fisheries.

These unfavorable conditions were not likely to remove, however it might be prudent to smother, the irritation of the Spaniards. Meanwhile, the British ambassadors at Madrid were no longer treated with even outward respect. The occupation of Corsica by the troops of France, the expulsion of the English from the Falkland Islands, were direct insults to England: but even greater than these would not have produced a war—so low had England fallen from the proud eminence she occupied at the death of George II. That Spain was inclined to war is evident from the whole conduct of its ministers, but the desire was counteracted by the internal embarrassments of France—embarrassments which were silently and surely preparing the way for the tremendous revolution that followed. Carlos had no wish to sustain the contest alone; and he was satisfied with showing England that he no longer feared her. Thus affairs continued until the Conde de Aranda was succeeded by the Marquis de Grimaldi, and the latter in his turn by the Conde de Florida Blanca, when England received another blow through her ally, Portugal. The vicinity of the territories held by the two peninsular kingdoms on the River La Plata led to mutual encroachments and disputes. In 1775 Spain suddenly seized the district bordering on the Sacramento; Portugal retaliated by the reduction of several forts on the Rio Grande; an expedition from Cadiz rapidly reduced the isle of 1775-1778 Santa Catalina, off the Brazilian coast, and the colony of the Sacramento. These successes, the death of Joseph, king of Portugal; the intrigues to exclude his daughter in favor of his grandson; the support of the former by Carlos, and her consequent succession, led to an alliance between the two kingdoms which, by confirming the influence of Spain, in the same degree weakened that of England; in fact, Portugal, the queen-dowager of which was the sister of Carlos, adhered to the Family Compact. This alliance was accompanied by a treaty of limits which fixed the boundaries of Brazil, Paraguay, and Peru—a treaty peculiarly favorable to the views and interests of Spain.

In this fortunate position of affairs the enterprising Florida Blanca could not fail to watch the course of events, in the resolution of profiting by them. The progress of the misunderstanding between England and her American colonies afforded him an opportunity for humbling her power and consequently for extending that of his own country. By entering into an alliance with the rebels and by an open war with Britain, France at once indulged her hereditary enmity and secured a friend in the rising states. In such a quarrel the Spanish minister surely had no concern; he could not wish success to the insurgents, since the example would probably extend to the South American colonies and prove no less disastrous to Spain than to England. Yet, with a policy as blind as it was vindictive, he persuaded Carlos to concur with France in behalf of the revolted colonies. Under the pretext that his mediation—a mediation proposed merely as the forerunner to a rupture—was slighted by Great Britain, Carlos declared war, procured the coöperation of a French fleet and caused Gibraltar to be closely invested. Gibraltar, though garrisoned with no more than a handful of men, exhibited a defense which astonished all Europe, and though the coasts of England were frequently insulted by the appearance of a hostile flag, no descent followed. These fleets were not long suffered to exhibit even these ineffectual bravadoes. Having retired to the peninsular ports, one of them was defeated by Admiral Rodney, who about the same time had the good fortune to capture a convoy of fifteen sail. But the capture of a British merchant fleet by the enemy, the loss of some settlements in the West Indies and on the banks of the Mississippi and the conquest of West Florida by Galvez, an enterprising Spanish officer, more than counterbalanced this 1778-1783 advantage. These disasters would have been much greater had not the English cabinet contrived to spread division between the two allied powers. The offer of Gibraltar—an offer made with anything but sincerity—more than once arrested the hostile march of Spain and led to secret negotiations. When Florida Blanca found, to his mortification, that he had been duped, and pushed the war with new vigor, he could not undo the mischief; he could not recall the preparations which England had made. He had, however, the good fortune to propose the famous armed neutrality, by which the maritime power of Europe endeavored to annihilate the naval superiority of Britain; and he had the still greater glory of recovering Minorca. Elated by this success, the Bourbon ministers dispatched a formidable fleet to expel the English from the West Indies, while their allies, the Dutch, in concert with Hyder Ali, strove to drive the same enemy from the Carnatic. But the French admiral De Grasse sustained so signal a defeat that the enterprise, as far as regarded the West Indies, was abandoned. In the meantime the blockade of Gibraltar was again converted into a vigorous siege, and a grand assault was made by the celebrated floating batteries, aided by the combined naval powers of France and Spain. But the attack was repelled by General Eliott and his heroic garrison in such a manner as to cover the allies with shame. The place was relieved, and though the enemy continued before it, they were too much discouraged to renew a hopeless attempt. To England, however, the war was fatal; the American colonies obtained their independence. Humbled and discouraged, the ministry now made propositions for peace; and negotiations for the purpose were opened at Paris. It was at length concluded, on terms sufficiently humiliating to the British nation. She surrendered the two Floridas, Minorca, Tobago, and Goree on the African coast, consented to be excluded from the greater part of the Gulf of Mexico and to admit the French to a participation of the Newfoundland fisheries; while in return for such concessions she could not obtain the slightest advantage for regulating her trade either with the peninsula or the American colonies.

Advantageous as were the conditions of peace, Carlos, when his resentment towards England was cooled, could not fail to perceive the impolicy of the recent war. He had assisted to establish a republic on the confines of his Mexican empire, and he knew that 1783 his own colonies had caught the same fire of independence. In fact, he had soon the mortification to see extensive districts in South America in open insurrection. In Peru a descendant of the Incas had little difficulty in collecting 60,000 men, with whom he took the field.

The remaining foreign transactions of Carlos may be shortly dismissed. His treaty with the sultan of Constantinople and with the Barbary states freed his subjects from piratical depredations and procured them commercial advantages in the Mediterranean superior to those enjoyed by any other European power. In Portugal, where his influence was confirmed by the marriage of his daughter Carlotta with the infante Joam, afterwards Joam VI., he procured from the French a share in the commercial advantages which had been hitherto exclusively enjoyed by the English. In an equal degree was the English influence impaired in Holland by the ascendency of the Bourbon courts. But as he grew in years he became less favorably disposed towards France, and more willing to cultivate a good understanding with England. Alluding to the unprincipled intrigues and faithless usurpations of the former power, he gradually weaned himself from it and was wont to declare that every established government should build a wall of brass to prevent the entrance of French principles.

The internal administration of Carlos was not less signal than his foreign policy. It exhibits many novelties, of which some were highly beneficial, while others were odious to the people. So long as the efforts of his ministers were confined to the improvement of commerce and agriculture; to cleansing and lighting the streets; to the construction and repairs of the roads; to the reorganization of the police, and amplification of the public revenues, they were cheered by the popular approbation; but when flapped hats and long cloaks—those screeners of assassination—were prohibited, a loud outcry was raised against the introduction of foreign customs. It may, however, be doubted whether any open riot would have followed had not the populace been excited by the arts of certain unknown intriguers, whose sole object appears to have been the destruction of the ministry. That this commotion was a political intrigue was no less the conviction of the king than of his ministers, and his suspicions fell on the Jesuits and on some of his grandees. The latter were too powerful to be punished, but the poor fathers of Jesus, who lived not merely innocent, but extremely meritorious, 1764-1773 lives, were sacrificed to the machinations of their enemies. Some years preceding, on a charge as destitute of foundation, they had been expelled from Portugal: in 1764 their inveterate foe, the Duke de Choiseul, minister of Louis XV., had driven them from France; and in Spain their possessions were regarded with an avaricious eye by some of the needy courtiers. To effect their downfall the French minister eagerly joined with the advocates of plunder, and intrigues were adopted which must cover their authors with everlasting infamy. The decree for their expulsion, addressed to the governors of the provinces, was secretly signed and transmitted; at a given hour of the night their colleges were surrounded by troops; the members of each community were assembled; the decree hastily read to them: a few minutes only were allowed them to collect their breviaries, linen, and a few conveniences; the gates were then closed and they were hurried, in separate companies, to the carriages which awaited them, conveyed to the coast and embarked for Italy. But the cup of their sufferings was not yet full. The governor of Cività Vecchia would not allow them to disembark until the pope’s pleasure was known. Clement refused to admit them, under the plea that if they were to be expelled from all the countries of Europe his dominions would be too narrow to contain them. During three months were they the sport of the waves, of the tempests, and of passions still more boisterous. At length they were permitted to land in Corsica, were hurried like so many bales of goods to the commercial depôts, and there left, without beds or provisions, until the pope granted the few survivors permission to settle in Italy, and until the king of Spain allowed each a pension of about one shilling a day. This odious persecution was not confined to Spain: it raged at the same time in the most distant colonies—in Buenos Ayres and Paraguay, as well as in the Philippine Islands.

In most other respects the internal administration of Carlos was one of unmixed good. The increase of the standing army, a force absolutely necessary, not merely for the national defense, but for the preservation of domestic tranquillity; its improved discipline; a judicious organization of the police; the restriction of ecclesiastical immunities in such cases as were incompatible with the well-being of the people; the circumscription of the powers of the inquisition; an attempt to colonize the Sierra Morena; the establishment of schools to supply the void left by the expulsion of the Jesuits, signalized 1773-1788 the administration of the Conde de Aranda. The same reforms were extended or improved by the Conde de Florida Blanca, who added others of even superior importance. The encouragement of agriculture, commerce and the useful arts of life; a radical change in the intercourse of Spain with her colonies; a considerable augmentation in the returns of the mines, in the customs, in every branch of the revenue; the introduction of new manufactures and the encouragement of such as were already established; the facilitation of intercourse by means of new roads and canals between the great marts of Spain; and numerous reforms in the forms of judicial process and in the responsibility of the judges, were a few of the many benefits conferred by this great minister on his country.

Don Carlos died at the close of the year 1788 at a good old age. From the vigor of his constitution he would doubtless have lived longer had he not been affected by the precarious state of his relations in France, by the loss of his son Don Gabriel, of his daughter-in-law Doña Maria of Portugal, and of their infant. He was a prince of considerable talents, of excellent intentions, and of blameless morals. In his public character his best praise is to be found in the fact that, through his ministers, he introduced a degree of prosperity to which his people had been strangers since the days of Philip II. In private life his example afforded no encouragement to licentiousness, and as he was severe towards himself, he was naturally so towards others. By his queen Amelia, a princess of Saxony, he left issue: Felipe Pascal, excluded through natural imbecility; Carlos, his successor, imprisoned and forced to abdicate by Bonaparte; Ferdinand, king of Naples and Sicily. There were four other sons, but these preceded him to the tomb.

Chapter XVI

GENERAL CONDITION OF THE MONARCHY
1516-1788

In the decline of the Spanish kingdom under the house of Austria and its restoration under the Bourbons it is well to note the general condition of the monarchy with the causes that led to it, in the various reigns from the first to the third Carlos.

Under the emperor the condition of Spain was more splendid, perhaps also more prosperous, than in any prior or subsequent reign. Though he was engaged in so many wars, the people do not appear to have been overburdened in supporting them: the treasures of the New World and the ordinary contributions were generally sufficient for the purpose. The circulation of so much wealth, and the vast markets opened for Spanish productions in the Americas, gave a new impulse to the national industry. Hence labor was in constant demand, and adequately remunerated. But the happiness even of this bright period had its drawbacks. The nobles held a power over the people, which, though not recognized by the new jurisprudence, was founded on the Visigothic code, and was consecrated by immemorial custom. If we may believe the histories of the period and the representations of the Cortes, it was often exercised with violence, with rapacity, with injustice. The wars which followed must have operated in a most baneful degree on the national prosperity,—and they were no less useless than baneful. They did not shake the power of the aristocracy, while they confirmed that of the crown. The dissatisfaction of the third estate was still further increased by the fact that on them alone rested the burden of the public contribution. Both the nobles and the clergy, the former in virtue of their seignorial rights, the latter of their immunities, were exempted from direct taxes. Though this unjust distinction would operate with less severity in a season of general prosperity, it would be oppressive to many, and its odious partiality could not fail to be condemned by all who suffered 1516-1788 by it. Moreover Spain had few native capitalists. The nobles seemed to live by traffic: the laborers, artisans, mechanics, were too poor to purchase their native produce or manufactures and dispose of it to the foreign merchant; and there was no middle class to serve as a connecting link between the two. Yet such a link was indispensable, and it was supplied by foreign enterprise. English, French, Dutch, Germans, Italians, hastened to profit by the absurd pride of one class, and the poverty of another: they absorbed the chief gain; they amassed considerable, in some cases princely fortunes, which they afterwards expended, not in Spain, but in their own countries.

The ignorance of the government as to the true sources of national prosperity is another of the causes which led to its decline. That native manufactures were not encouraged is sufficiently notorious from the fact that while they were subject to many duties on their introduction into other countries of Europe,—duties which almost amounted to an exclusion,—those of foreigners were admitted into the Peninsula either without any or with very light ones: hence there was no such thing as reciprocity, and the advantages of traffic must inevitably remain with more cunning nations. Still, the New World opened a boundless market to Spanish productions of every species, so that the mischiefs of this deplorable policy were not much felt, however their tendency might be perceived, in the present reign. Though American money was freely diffused throughout the community, its abundance had the inevitable effect of impairing its value, and that to an extent unexampled in any other country. This fact is sufficiently proved by the rapid increase in the price of provisions and other necessaries, which from 1480 to 1530 had quintupled. Gold could not always be thus abundant. Moreover, so long as money retained its ancient value, the fine of a few maravedis—and in an earlier section of this compendium we have seen that the most ordinary punishments were pecuniary mulets—would always operate as a preventive of crime; but when it was reduced to one-fifth, those mulets, which ought to have been quintupled, remained at the same standard.^[34] Hence fines lost their rigor, and crimes naturally became more frequent.

The acquisition of land by the church would not be felt as an evil during the supremacy of the ancient system, when military1516-1788 service and the ordinary contributions were as much required from ecclesiastics as from laymen. But when the new jurisprudence superseded the other; when churchmen could no longer serve the state either by contributions or in person; when, too, the property which had been granted for such service could neither be alienated nor sold, when the possessions of the church increased in an alarming degree, in the same degree diminished the resources of the state. Hence the monarchs of Castile and Leon found it expedient to issue prohibitions against the alienation of lands to ecclesiastical purposes; and no man who entered the cloister or served at the altar was permitted to take with him more than a fifth even of his movable property. In effect this was only a partial check, and private wealth continued to be diverted from the state.

Under the ancient system, majorats were unknown: lands, on the death of the holder, reverted to the crown; entails with primogenital rights were not in force until the thirteenth century, when Alonso el Sabio, in his code of the Partidas, sanctioned their use. It is indeed true that long before the time of that legislator children could inherit: but the father had full control over his property; he could divide it among them, or bequeath it even to the youngest; or he could sell it, and divide the proceeds of the sale in whatever proportion he pleased. But noble families, afraid of being reduced in the course, perhaps of a single generation, to comparative poverty—of their names and characters being lost among men—anxiously turned their attention to inalienations in their first-born sons, or, in default of them, in their collateral kindred. Hence, when lands became inalienable in the representative of a family, there arose a species of mortmain, as much as in the church. In one respect, indeed, there was an essential difference: the property thus transmitted was still liable to the exigencies of the state. But in others it was scarcely less injurious. As the possessor ceased to be the proprietor, and was confined to the usufruct, unless his heir happened to be a favorite son he was not very anxious to incur the expense of improvements the advantage of which he could not live long enough to enjoy, and which might, perhaps, pass to a disobedient child or to a stranger. Hence, in many instances the land was inadequately cultivated.

The disputes of Carlos with the popes were also among the 1516-1788 causes of the national decline. Incensed at his attempts at ecclesiastical restraint, and apprehensive of his aspiring to universal empire, they formed league after league against him, compelling him to waste on foreign objects the treasures which should have been applied to the amelioration of Spain. But this was not the worst evil. In these disputes many of the clergy, and some of the nobles, took part with the Holy See, while others espoused the side of the king. The former soon learned to consider their obligations to the head of the church as superior to those which they owed to that of the state: hence the collisions of interests and opinions, by which patriotism and the social bond were weakened. Let us not, however, shut our eyes to the fact that if the ecclesiastic domains had been vested in the crown, they would have been seldom conferred as rewards of merit; they would in a majority of cases have been made to enrich worthless courtiers. The privileges and wealth of the church could not fail to multiply the number of its ministers and priests to an extent far beyond the necessity of the demand. The rich were anxious to educate their sons for a state which held out such powerful inducements to temporal ambition; even the poorest,—and, to the honor of the Roman Catholic Church be it spoken, the priesthood, as well as the monastic profession, has ever been open to the very lowest classes,—while earning their own bread by the sweat of their brow, had the satisfaction to know that in the church they could secure for their sons the comforts of life. But this multiplication of religious orders had political effect: it abstracted from the number of productive hands; it added to the burdens of the community; it deprived the country of so many defenders.

The commencement of the reign of Philip II. exhibits the same generally prosperous state of things as that of his father. Some of the causes which we assigned for Spanish decline were, indeed, in full operation, but their influence was not yet felt, and the mischief of others was counterbalanced by accidental circumstances. This great monarch—for such he really was—had a judgment much more solid, much less liable to be misled, than the emperor; and for some years he consulted the welfare of his people with perseverance and success. The acquisition of Portugal and of the Philippine Islands augmented his resources, and consequently his power. But, if his policy in regard to the conquered kingdom was humane and enlightened, he overlooked some obvious 1516-1788 considerations. Had he fixed his court permanently at Lisbon, he would have secured Portugal forever. That city, too, was far better fitted to be the capital of a great kingdom than the inland town of Madrid. Situated near the sea, commanding the best facilities for communication with the colonies of the east and west, and for general traffic, it surely deserved the preference over a place which is almost inaccessible, which lies in the midst of a sterile plain, and has not one navigable river within its reach. Having created three officers,—a chronicler and historian of Castile, and a cosmographer of the Indies,—he diligently endeavored to procure even the minutest details relating to the resources and statistics of his dominions. The result of these inquiries has probably perished,—if we except the ecclesiastical and civil portion, of which, fortunately, we have an abstract. From this return it appears that in all the dominions of Philip,—in Milan, Parma, Naples, Sicily, Sardinia, the Netherlands, Portugal, as well as in Spain, in the vast colonial empire both of Spain and of Portugal,—the number of archbishoprics was 58, of bishoprics 684, of abbeys 11,400, of chapters 936, of parishes 127,000, of religious hospitals 7,000, of religious orders and confraternities (friars, etc.) 23,000, of monasteries 46,000, of nunneries 13,500, of secular priests 312,000, of monks 400,000, of friars and other ecclesiastics 200,000. The civil functionaries nominated by the king amounted to 80,083, the viceroys and inferior authorities to 367,000. Prodigious as these numbers,—those of the ecclesiastics especially,—may appear, they will not be deemed so extraordinary when we consider that the scepter of Philip extended over, perhaps, 100,000,000 of human beings. At this time the state of the peninsular population was one of comparative comfort. Agriculture, manufactures, and commerce flourished to an extent even greater than in the best period of the emperor’s reign. At Toledo, Segovia, and in the district of La Mancha the number occupied in woolens and silks was 127,823, and Seville had 30,000. The monarch was enlightened enough to perceive, and patriotic enough to pursue, the interests of his people: nor was he less the friend of science. It must have been at no little expense that the eminent Herrera traversed the most interesting regions of the New World, to collect whatever was curious or valuable in natural history.

But these vast resources were unfortunately wasted by Philip; and his own unwise policy destroyed the very foundations 1516-1783 on which they rested. His continued persecution of the Flemings and Dutch led to the revolt of these important provinces,—a revolt which, though he expended 150,000,000 of ducats, he vainly attempted to repress. The insurgents did more than waste the treasures and blood of his people by their successful resistance: they captured his vessels, and fitted out ships of their own, to injure his commerce in the east and west. The war with England was no less disastrous. Omitting the loss of the invincible armada, the English admirals captured his fleets, both in the West Indies and on the west of the Peninsula; insulted and sometimes sacked his towns. The treasures sent to support the Catholic league of France and the wars in other quarters,—all undertaken as much for the interests of religion as of ambition,—exhausted the remaining resources of Philip. The subjugation of the Moriscos in the kingdom of Granada—a war no less religious in this monarch’s view than the preceding—had a worse effect than the impoverishment of the finances: it was followed by the banishment of many productive subjects to the African coast. The proceedings of the inquisition, which were often directed against the most useful of the people—Mohammedans, Jews, and heretics,—would exercise an influence more fatal than is generally ascribed to them. If to these causes of decline we add that those enumerated in the preceding reign were also at work, we shall have no difficulty in believing that, towards the close of Philip’s life, not only the treasury, but the nation, must have been impoverished. From a review of all, it is certain that his misfortunes and disasters arose from his attachment to the established faith. These divisions between the spiritual and temporal authority inevitably weakened the kingdom.

The reign of Philip III., surnamed, from his piety, the Good, was the golden age of churchmen. Though religious foundations were already numerous, great additions were made to them, and in those which already existed new altars or chancels were erected. Thus, the Duke of Lerma founded seven monasteries and two collegiate churches: thus, also, the diocese of Calahorra numbered 18.000 chaplains, Seville 14,000. Such a state of things is in sharp contrast to a view of the temporal affairs of the nation, which were never before in so deplorable a condition. For the independence of the Netherlands was wrung from the crown. The Moriscos,—the most active, the most enterprising, and the 1516-1738 most useful portion of the people,—were banished, to the irreparable detriment of the national resources, and as the productive classes decreased, so did the native capitalists, until the remaining traffic was almost wholly in the hands of strangers; and so also, correspondingly diminished the royal revenues, which scarcely reached 14,000,000 ducats, that is, about half the amount at the commencement of the second Philip’s reign. In a degree still more baneful to secular interests increased the revenues of the church, and the number of professed religious, to the serious injury of a population already inadequate for the purposes of agriculture. Still justice demands the admission that this increase of church property was not without its good.

Under Philip IV. the condition of Spain still declined, and with increasing rapidity. In the beginning of his reign, the conde, Duke of Olivares, his minister, attempted, as before related, some reforms; but they were reforms which merely produced an artificial augmentation of the royal revenue, and left untouched the evils of the country. As monuments of his administration, the weak and flagitious Olivares was doomed to see the trade of Toledo ruined, with the decay of one-third of its population; that of Segovia, Burgos, and La Mancha reduced to one-tenth its former magnitude. Medina del Campo, which could formerly boast of 5,000 families possessed, if not of affluence, at least of comforts, was now reduced to 500 sunk in poverty. Tn the archbishopric of Granada 400 towns, villages, and hamlets were reduced to 260; and the bishopric of Avila lost 65 baptismal fonts. In Seville, formerly the most opulent and flourishing city of Spain, the number of rich manufacturers is said to have decreased to one-twentieth, and the population to less than one-half. The Catalan insurrection, and the declaration of independence by Portugal; the interminable wars to which both events led; the loss of Roussillon, Conflans, a part of Cerdaña, and of Jamaica; the annihilation of Spanish trade in the Indies by the Dutch: the reverses of the Spanish arms in Italy and the Low Countries,—were not likely to console the people for the mischiefs of a ruinous administration, and of universal bankruptcy.

Still descending in the scale of degradation, we come to the reign of Carlos II. Under him the walls of all the fortresses, says the Marquis de San Felipe, were crumbling into ruins; even the breaches made in those of Barcelona during the Catalan rebellion 1516-1788 continued open: at Rosas and Cadiz there was no garrison, and no guns mounted. In the ports of Biscay and Galicia, the great arsenals for the navy, the very art of constructing vessels had fallen into oblivion: the arsenals and magazines were empty; the fleet, if we except a few merchantmen trading to the Indies, consisted of six rotten frigates at anchor in the harbor of Carthagena; seven, in addition, were furnished by Genoa. The army was not much superior to the marine; no more than 20,000 men could be numbered, and of these not half were fit for service. Such was the condition to which the Austrian princes had reduced this once mighty monarchy. It was, indeed, time to change the dynasty; another such reign and society must have been dissolved.

Notwithstanding the severe wars in which, during a period of fourteen years, Philip V. the Bourbon was involved, and which, under his immediate predecessors, would, beyond doubt, have completed the ruin—and the hopeless ruin—of the monarchy, he gave to Spain a degree of positive prosperity unknown since the reign of the second Philip. By the reduction of the interest on the debts of the crown from five to three per cent.; by revoking the profuse grants of territories and revenues made by his predecessors: by creating efficient officers, whom he made responsible for the collection of the duties and contributions; and by abolishing useless—which are always the most expensive—places; by introducing a vigorous system into the general administration; by a new impulse given to trade and manufactures,—his ministers increased his revenues sixfold. All Europe was astonished to see that in eighteen years he could muster a fleet not inferior to the famous armada which had failed against Britain. Nor, as observed in the history of his reign, was he inattentive to literature, which he restored to a degree beyond any we could have supposed possible, considering the utter degradation in which it had lain from the time of Philip III. But the chief glories of Philip’s administration concern his civil government—the knowledge and application of the internal resources. He instituted a commission to inquire into the population, the agriculture, the manufactures, and trade of each district; but some causes—probably his own laziness—prevented the termination of his labors.

Soon after the accession of Ferdinand VI. this commission was renewed, and its operations conducted to a close. Some of the 1516-1788 details which it laid before the royal council are highly interesting, as exhibiting the relative possessions of the lay and clerical orders. From a summary of facts, it appears that the secular state held 61,196,166 measures of land; the church, 12,209,053; that the revenues arising from the former were 817,232,098 reals;^[35] of the latter, 161,392,700; that the house rental of lay proprietors was 252,086,009; of the clerical, including tithes, first fruits, etc., 164,154,498; the former derived from cattle a return of 29,006,238, the latter of 2,933,277; to the former, manufactures and commerce yielded 531,921,798 reals; to the latter, 12,321,440. Hence the whole annual income of the former was 1,630,296,143 reals; of the latter, 340,801,915. Ferdinand perceived that several branches of public revenue might be, and ought to be, rendered immensely more productive. So long, however, as they were in the hands of farmers and jobbers the interests of the nation must suffer for the aggrandizement of a few; and he wisely confided the collection to royal intendants.

Under Carlos III. the progress of national prosperity was still more rapid. To some of his improvements allusion has already been made. We may add that the foundation in numerous districts of economical societies, to watch over the industry of the neighborhood, was of the utmost advantage, since their reports could enlighten the government and procure, whenever wanted, an advance of money on a very moderate interest, or on none at all,—payment of the principal being guaranteed by the most substantial inhabitants of the place. From the accession of Philip V. to the close of this monarch’s reign the population was very nearly doubled, and the revenues increased twenty-fold. These are stupendous results, and prove beyond cavil the good effects of the Bourbon government. The ministers of Carlos could boast that during his reign the revenues of the Indies had been increased from 5,000,000 to above 12,000,000 crowns; that from 1778 to 1785 the trade with the colonies had been tripled: that while in 1751 the navy consisted of only eighteen ships of the line and fifteen smaller craft, it could now number seventy-four, besides two hundred frigates, brigs, and transports; and that the army had increased in proportion. In literature the improvement was not less remarkable. A bibliotheca of the writers of this reign has been formed by Sempère, and certainly few countries and few times can exhibit 1516-1788 a list so numerous and so splendid. But Carlos failed in banishing the peripatetic philosophy from Salamanca, the professors of which regarded the names of Bacon, Newton, Gassendi, and Descartes with horror. In ecclesiastical discipline, much as had been effected by his predecessors, Carlos improved on them. In this reign the inquisition, the severity of which had been gradually mitigated from the time of Carlos II., ceased to inspire much terror. Under Philip V. 3,000 persons had been burned, imprisoned for life, or sent to the galleys; under Ferdinand VI. the number decreased to 10 burned, and 170 condemned to other penalties; under the present Carlos 4 individuals only suffered the awful penalty, and 50 only were otherwise punished,—and these not so much for opinions as for criminal acts.

The internal resources of the country were immense. The soil, the climate, the ports, the people,—everything offered a foundation for greatness. The chivalrous qualities of her children, their pride, their scorn of sordid views, their sense of honor, their intellectual attainments and inflexible virtues, all offered a hopeful prospect. With powers bounded by precedent, or by conscience alone—powers which, in other hands, might have proved fatal to the community—the kings of Spain had seldom been tyrants. Her nobility and gentry were not more distinguished for illustrious descent than for unsullied honor and boundless generosity. Her ecclesiastics would have honorably sustained comparison with the clergy of the established Church of England and were among the foremost defenders of popular rights. Her citizens, even the rustics, were distinguished for intelligence and honest hereditary pride and contained within themselves resources sufficient to ensure their future fortunes.

Chapter XVII

LAST OF THE ANCIENT DYNASTY. 1521-1640.

Joam, or John, III., who reigned in the Portuguese monarchy from 1521 to 1557, was the eldest son of the deceased Dom Manuel, and ascended the throne in his twentieth year. At this time Portugal was held to be in the zenith of her power. Her boundless empire in the East and West: her American possessions, which, though unproductive themselves, were admirably adapted for the protection and extension of commerce; her internal wealth; seemed to secure her future happiness no less than her glory. But to a closer observer she was evidently beginning to decline. Her former domination was more splendid than solid. The enormous expense of supporting the princes of the royal house,—a heavy and cumbrous establishment, adapted, not for a small state, like Portugal, but for an immense empire; the alarming multiplication of the nobility and clergy, who must of necessity be supported at the public expense; and, above all, the introduction of a degree of luxury unknown in any other part of Europe, were signs of a decline as rapid as inevitable. The long reign of this prince exhibits little beyond interminable contests in India and Africa.

At the time of Joam’s accession the viceroyalty of the Indies was in the hands of Dom Duarte de Menezes. In Ormus the inhabitants, at the instigation of the Minister Xaref, and with the permission of the King Terunca, rose against the Portuguese, massacred a considerable number, and besieged the rest in the citadel, which they had been impoliticly permitted to erect. Coutinho, the governor, dispatched a vessel to Goa, the seat of the Indian government, for reinforcements, but before any could arrive Xaref lost so many men, both in an unsuccessful attempt on the fortress and by a vigorous sortie of the garrison, that he was compelled to retire with the king to a neighboring island. There, finding that Terunca, who had been unwillingly drawn into the war, was disposed to renew a good understanding with the 1521-1537 strangers, he caused that unfortunate prince to be strangled. Instead of punishing this man for thus murdering a faithful ally, the avaricious viceroy, for a large sum of money, conferred on him the government of Ormus. The same rapacity characterized the Portuguese governors in Cochin, at Calicut, in Malacca, the Moluccas, and wherever else their detestable sway extended. To restore the national honor, in 1524 the king dispatched the aged Vasco de Gama, the celebrated discoverer of the Hindu peninsula. But scarcely had this great man reached Cochin and applied his vigorous hand to the correction of abuses, when death surprised him. He was succeeded by Henrique de Menezes, brother of Duarte, whose wisdom, valor, and love of justice made him the dread alike of the hostile natives and of his licentious soldiers. But after a brilliant victory over the king of Calicut, an inveterate enemy of the Europeans, he breathed his last at Cananor, so poor—and this is the greatest praise that can be given him—that he left not money sufficient to defray the expenses of his funeral. A few months before his death he resolved to forsake the fortress of Calicut, which experience had shown would always be exposed to the attacks of the zamorin, and transfer the settlement to Diu, near the entrance of the Gulf of Cambay and in the empire of Guzerat; and his successor, Don Pedro Mascarenhas, prepared to carry the resolve into execution. But Diu was strong by nature and greatly fortified by art; nor would the king of Cambay, one of the most powerful sovereigns of western India, fail to succor it. Hence bribery was employed instead of force: but accident suspended the execution of the enterprise. The disputes of Mascarenhas, with Sampeyo, who succeeded him, and the perpetual jealousies of the inferior officers, were deeply injurious to the interests of the empire in the East; they could, however, combine where plunder was to be gained; and in such expeditions they exhibited a valor worthy of a better cause. In 1529 Sampeyo was superseded by Nuno da Cunha, who took Ormus in his way and who sent Xaref in chains to Lisbon. On arriving at Goa, his first acts were so many preparations for the siege of Diu, the possession of which he perceived to be necessary for the security of the Portuguese settlements. So great was the force he brought against it that it surrendered without a shot; nor could the subsequent, however frequent and desperate, efforts of the Mohammedan king recover it. In 1537 a formidable fleet was dispatched from the Red Sea, under 1537-1557 the pasha Soliman, admiral of the Sublime Porte, to coöperate with the king of Cambay and to expel the Christians from these seas. On his approach the Portuguese, who amounted to no more than 700, threw themselves into the citadel, while the governor Silveira secretly sent a brig to acquaint the viceroy with the danger which threatened that important post. In the assaults which followed, by a force, so we are gravely informed, at least forty times numerically superior to the garrison, the defenders exhibited a heroism worthy of all praise. Disappointed at so desperate a resistance, Soliman sent an ambassador to the king of Calicut, whom he invited to accept the protection of the sultan, and to join him in exterminating the infidel dogs. In the meantime Da Cunha had been superseded by Dom Garcia de Noronha, who hastened in person to the relief of Diu, but who found the siege raised, after immense loss on the part of Soliman. The next nobleman who held the delegated authority of Joam was Dom Estevan de Gama, a son of the celebrated Vasco, whose administration was as vigorous as it was splendid. He founded a college at Goa for the education of noble Hindoos; he defended the emperor of Abyssinia against the Turks; and he exterminated most of the corsairs who infested the Indian seas. His successor, Alfonso de Sousa, by whom he was replaced in 1542, was accompanied by San Francisco de Xavier, the great apostle of the Indies, the friend of Ignacio de Loyola, who founded the order of Jesus. The labors of this indefatigable missionary were almost superhuman, and were not without effect. In the year of his arrival the islands of Japan were first approached by the Europeans; but the jealousy or prudence of the inhabitants preserved them from the intercourse of these suspicious strangers. That such strangers were entitled to be viewed with distrust was soon experienced by the inhabitants of the Moluccas. They had gained possession of two princes, sons of the late king of Ternate, whom, at length, they liberated with the view of reigning through a royal dependent. The eldest was restored by the governor, Fonseca, to the throne, but in a few weeks the same governor replaced him by the younger brother. A new governor arrived—such was the fear lest the Portuguese officers should aim at independence that they never were long suffered to remain in one post,—who on some frivolous pretext arrested the king and sent him to Goa. The viceroy, unable to prove any charge against him, honorably dismissed him, but he died on his 1537-1557 return. There was still remaining a bastard brother of these puppets of royalty; him the governor, Ataide, raised to the throne. His mother, a native of Java, by religion a Mohammedan, endeavored to dissuade him from retaining the dignity, foreseeing that the same or a similar fate would be reserved for him as had already proved fatal to his brothers. Incensed at this discovery of their views, a band of Portuguese soldiers hastened to the palace, and in sight of her son threw her from a high window: she was killed by the fall. Throughout these islands the inhabitants retaliated by massacring all of the same nation on whom they could lay hands; but most, according to custom, fled into the citadel of Ternate, where they could safely defy their pursuers. This relation would alone be sufficient to characterize the conduct of the Portuguese, who, under the pretense of commerce, obtaining from the incautious natives permission to build a citadel, uniformly perpetrated the same atrocities. Their odious domination was founded in hypocrisy, was cemented by violence and blood, was crowned with rapacity and insolence. Sousa was succeeded by Dom Joam de Castro, under whom the garrison of Diu again obtained immortal fame by the defense of that place against a formidable army of Mohammedans. The place was at length relieved by the viceroy in person, who, not content with this advantage, assailed with about 5,000 men the vast force of the enemy and obtained a signal victory. The victory inspired the princes of Hindustan with fear. Passing over two intermediate viceroys, one of whom, however (Cabral), obtained some advantage over the zamorin, the government of Alfonso de Noronha is chiefly remarkable for the revolt of the Moluccas. The cause, as may be readily supposed, was the unscrupulous behavior of the Portuguese officers, and the indignation of the king, the horrid fate of whose mother was continually present to his eyes. Those who had embraced Christianity broke the images and overthrew the altars which they had been taught to venerate. Their revolt would probably have been successful had not a dreadful famine, and afterwards a still more dreadful earthquake, carried off some thousands of their number, and inclined the remainder to consider these disasters as chastisements of their apostasy. The avarice of Noronha, who on one occasion threw the father of a Cingalese king into prison because he was refused 12,000 ducats,—a sum which he demanded without the shadow of a reason, and in the wantonness of power,—increased 1523-1535 the number of the discontented. Joam was sufficiently inclined to punish the guilt of his servants, but his immense distance from the scene and the misrepresentations of the interested neutralized his desire of justice. The last viceroy during his reign was Dom Francisco Barreto, under whom the Moluccas again revolted. The governor at Ternate, Duarte de Saa, a fierce bigot and a sanguinary monster, treated the royal family with extreme severity. On one occasion, resolving to remove the king by poison, he caused the liquor in which the drug was mixed to be presented, but the intended victim, by means, we are told, of a peculiar stone detected the deleterious nature of the beverage and refused to drink it. With the resolution of destroying so faithless a race, his subjects rose against the Portuguese, massacred all on whom they could seize, but were, as usual, defied by the garrison, were subsequently vanquished in a general engagement, and forced to resume the yoke.

During these transactions in the East Morocco continued to be the sanguinary theater of the worst human passions. On the one hand the Portuguese were eager to extend their possessions; on the other, the xerifs, exulting in their successful ambition, were not less so to free the country from so troublesome an enemy. From the accession of the new dynasty the affairs of the Portuguese began to decline. Indicative of the ambitious schemes which they had formed, the xerifs assumed the title of emperors of Africa, the elder, Hamed, remaining at Morocco, the younger, Mohammed, occupying the more western provinces. To the king of Fez this assumption was not less odious than it was to the Portuguese themselves; to repress their rising power that prince led a formidable army to the banks of the Gadalebi, where he was signally defeated. About the same time the governor of Saphin, irritated at the insulting demonstration of the Moors before that place, imprudently left the walls and attacked them; his defeat confirmed the domination of the imperial brothers. The recovery of Santa Cruz, a town at Cape Aguer, encouraged Hamed, the elder, to attempt the reduction of Saphin, but, as usual, he failed. His brother, who had fixed his residence at Tarudante, had brought from Santa Cruz several Christian captives, among whom was the governor. Monroi, with two children, a son and a daughter. The beauty of Doña Mencia made a deep impression on the xerif, who at length prevailed on her not only to enter his harem, but to abjure her religion. The passion of this barbarian is represented as intense and lasting. From the 1523-1535 abstraction into which he fell after her death he was roused by an invasion of his brother Hamed, who, after a second unsuccessful attempt on Saphin, hoped to add Sus and Tarudante to the empire of Morocco. The latter was defeated and taken prisoner, but his eldest son, who had been in the capital, armed for his liberation, and to strengthen the expedition, courted the alliance of the Portuguese. Alarmed at the junction, the victor dismissed his brother without ransom, on the condition that mutual wrongs should be forgotten and their arms united to oppose the common enemy of both. But Hamed was too ambitious to submit to a division of the empire. Unmindful of his brother’s generosity, in 1543 he assembled another army, invaded Tarudante, and was again defeated. On this second occasion Mohammed was resolved to derive every possible advantage from his success. He marched on Morocco, which he occupied without resistance. From the triumph of his arms the xerif turned to a melancholy indulgence of his passion. Hearing that Monroi, the father of his lost mistress, was in the dungeons of Morocco, he called that unfortunate cavalier before him. “Christian, I loved thy daughter, and her death has left me miserable: neither victory nor glory can console me; my only consolation is an opportunity of serving her father. Depart, and when in thine own country, sometimes think of a monarch so devoted to thy child!” This prince had certainly elevated qualities, a distinction the more honorable in a Moor. Though his brother Hamed armed Muley, king of Fez, against him, he again pardoned him, but exiled him to the government of a fortified town. In a subsequent action, which Muley had the imprudence to seek, the monarch of Fez was defeated and deprived of his possessions. Lord of Morocco, Sus, Fez, Tarudante, Tremecen, and other regions, his ambition was not yet satisfied. As his domestic disputes were ended, he again turned his arms against his natural enemies, but, if the historians of Portugal are to be credited, with little effect. That on one occasion the xerif, with 4,000 horse, was signally defeated by a Portuguese noble with 140, is gravely asserted: victories equally improbable, we may add equally impossible, occur at every step in the Portuguese relations concerning the wars of their countrymen with the misbelievers. But what we are told could not be effected by valor was done by fortune. Considering the war which he had to support in India, and his want of troops, Joam took the extraordinary resolution of dismantling four of his African fortresses, 1526-1557 Arzilla, Saphin, Azamor, Alcazar-Seguer, and of abandoning the ruins to the enemy. This resolution was carried into effect; but that this was owing as much to the arms of the xerif as to the motives will be admitted by every reader except a Portuguese. As Mohammed grew in years he abstained from the field and left the conduct of the desultory and indecisive operations to his generals. In the last year of Joam’s reign he was assassinated by the governor of Algiers, and was succeeded by his son, Muley Abdallah.

Of Dom Joam’s administration in Portugal the national historians seldom speak; their attention is almost wholly occupied by affairs in India and Africa. He it was who introduced the inquisition into Portugal. The innovation of this tribunal for the examination and punishment of heretics is traced to the impiety of one of their number, who one day entered a church during mass and snatched the consecrated host from the hands of the priest. To keep the Jews, Moors, and other enemies of the Roman Catholic religion in the respect due to it, the king called in the assistance of that terrible tribunal. Its introduction was strongly opposed by the people, who, however, bent before his inflexibility. The next instance of his anxiety for the interests of religion was his attachment to the Jesuits, who at this time glowed with all the intensity of a first zeal. He employed them as his missionaries throughout his vast colonial empire, and nobly did they justify his choice. Their virtues appeared to double advantage when contrasted with the worldly pursuits or exceptionable lives of too many among the secular and regular orders. In fact, licentiousness in the ranks of the latter had arrived at such a pitch that Joam found it necessary to reform them. To this end he created three new bishoprics, elevated the see of Evora into a metropolis, and charged the new prelates to watch over the conduct of the monastic houses. With no less care did he provide for the administration of justice; he improved alike the tribunals and the laws; but, as clemency was the basis of his character, those laws were deprived of their old-time severity. No less anxious to promote internal intercourse, he repaired the roads, constructed new ones, and even restored the celebrated aqueduct of Sertorius.

This prince died in 1557. By his queen, Catherina, sister of the Emperor Charles V., he had several male children, of whom none emerged from their infancy except Joam. Nor did that infante survive the father. In 1553 he received the hand of Juana, daughter 1557-1562 of the emperor; but he died in the third month of his marriage, leaving the princess pregnant of a son, afterwards the unfortunate Dom Sebastian. Of this king’s daughters one only arrived at mature years, Maria, whom he married to her cousin, Philip II. of Spain. Of his brothers one only, the Cardinal Henrique, whom he had vainly endeavored to place in the chair of St. Peter, survived him. As his sister Isabel was the mother of the Spanish monarch, the connection between the royal families of the two kingdoms was, as we shall soon see, fatal to the independence of Portugal. In enumerating the scions of this house we must not omit Luis, Duc de Beja, a brother of Joam, who died in 1555. This prince fell passionately in love with a female of humble birth: the issue of this connection was a son, afterwards the famous prior of Crato.

As Sebastian (1557-1578) on the death of his grandfather was only three years of age, the regency, in conformity with the will of the late king, was vested in the widowed queen, Catherina of Austria. In a few years, however, being disgusted with the intrigues of Cardinal Henrique, who aspired to the direction of affairs, she resigned it in his favor. Both governed with moderation, and not without success, an empire on which the sun never set.

From infancy the young king showed that the love of arms would be his ruling passion. His tutors appear to have been no less anxious to imbue his mind with hatred of the Moors, the progress of whose successes had filled them with apprehension. The union of four states—Sus, Morocco, Fez, and Tremecen—under the same scepter, was scarcely more fatal than the successive relinquishment by the late king of four important fortresses, Arzilla, Alcazar-Seguer, Saphin, and Azamor. The treacherous assassination, indeed, of the xerif by the governor of Algiers, in the last year of Joam’s reign, had induced the Portuguese to hope that under a less enterprising prince they should regain their former influence. The hope was vain. The eldest son, Muley Abdallah, who, in the dread of being supplanted by his uncle and seven cousins, had put all the eight to death, showed a disposition to improve the advantages which had been gained. In 1562 he collected a formidable army, which he intrusted to his eldest son, Muley Hamet, who furiously assailed Mazagan, a fortress on the Atlantic, almost within sight of his capital. This host, though led by the vassal king of Dara, a brother of the emperor, and encouraged by the example of Muley Hamet, was discomfited by the miraculous valor of the besieged. 1565-1574 The assailants, however, returned in greater numbers and with greater fury than before, but were repulsed with equal slaughter. In 1565 an attempt equally unsuccessful was made on Tangier. Still the Portuguese empire in Africa was so fallen from its former splendor—three fortresses only, Mazagan, Ceuta, and Tangier, remaining to Sebastian—that we need not be surprised at the immoderate anxiety betrayed by the young monarch to restore, if possible to amplify it, far beyond its original extent.

From the moment Sebastian reached his fourteenth year, the period of his majority, all his thoughts evidently tended to the African war. In 1574, in opposition to the prayers of his counselors, and amidst the lamentations of all who wished well to his person, he suddenly and rashly departed for the African coast; not indeed, with the view of warfare, but of examining the country and of acquiring a knowledge that might be useful in his meditated exploits. That such a voyage would be attended with danger, even though he was accompanied by about 1,500 men, was apparent. He landed at Tangier and began to hunt amidst the African mountains with as much sense of security as if he were following the chase in the vicinity of Cintra. Irritated at his audacity, the Moors collected in considerable numbers and assailed the royal escort; but after a struggle, in which the king exhibited all the rashness of his courage, and in which he incurred great risk, they were repelled. Another cause gave now a stimulus to his ardor. Morocco was a prey to divisions, which had already proved disastrous to the Moors, and were likely to continue the fruitful source of troubles. Muley Abdalla had been succeeded by his son, Muley Hamet, in opposition to the order of succession established by the two xerifs, who agreed that in their respective dominions the sons should succeed in the order of their birth, to the exclusion of the grandsons. Hence, on the death of Abdalla, the crown should have devolved, not on Muley Hamet, but on Abdelmumen, the next brother of Abdalla. Knowing that his life was in danger, Abdelmumen, accompanied by his younger brothers, Abdelmelic and Hamet, had fled to Tremecen and Algiers. They were pursued by assassins, and Abdelmumen fell in the mosque of the former city. Muley Moluc Abdelmelic fled to Algiers and implored the succor of Philip II., the Spanish king, whom he proposed to acknowledge as his liege lord, in the event of his gaining what he considered his rightful inheritance. But Philip was too prudent to 1574-1577 plunge his kingdom into a war for the sake of a barbarian, who would soon have forgotten the promise. From the grand signior, however, whom he visited, this prince obtained 3,000 men, with permission to raise as many as he could. With this small force he returned, increased it by the levies raised during his absence by his brother Hamet, and boldly marched on Fez. He was met by Muley Hamet, whom he defeated, pursued, and finally expelled from Morocco: he was in consequence hailed as emperor by a people more prone than any other to revolution. It was now Muley Hamet’s turn to solicit the Christian princes for aid. Philip turned a deaf ear to him, as he had before done to Abdelmelic; but he was more fortunate with Sebastian, who readily promised to replace him on the throne.

But though the civil dissensions of Morocco thus confirmed the Portuguese king in his long-cherished resolution, even he felt that the undertaking was one of magnitude and demanded preparations. His coffers were empty; his disposable force was insignificant; his kingdom was exhausted, both of money and of troops, by the continued wars in India and Africa. By a prudent man these circumstances would have been considered insurmountable obstacles to the meditated enterprise; but though they were displayed in their true light by ministers who had grown old in public affairs, they had little effect on this unreflecting prince. He laid new and oppressive imposts on his people, and caused troops to be levied in Italy and the Low Countries: but the money thus raised was inadequate to the occasion; nor would the foreign mercenaries move from their country without receiving a considerable sum by way of advance. The preparations, however, alarmed Muley Moluc, who offered him any part in Mauritania as the condition of his abandoning the exile Muley Hamet—an offer which he indignantly rejected. That he aspired to the possession of the whole empire—nay, that in his wild imagination he indulged the prospect of subduing all northern Africa, and of planting his victorious banners on the towers of Constantinople—is seriously asserted by the historians of the times. But as his resources were so limited he turned his eyes towards his uncle, the Catholic king, whose coöperation he solicited, and with whom he obtained an interview at Guadalupe. The behavior of Philip II. of Spain on this occasion is highly honorable to his character. He received Sebastian with uncommon respect, waived points of precedence, and showed an affectionate interest 1577-1578 in the circumstances and prospects of the young enthusiast, to whom he even promised his daughter, Doña Clara Eugenia. He strongly disapproved of the African war; alleged the most convincing reasons for abandoning it—reasons drawn alike from the character of the Moors, the sterility of the mountains, the magnitude of the expense, the probability that Turkey would arm in behalf of Muley Moluc; and in case Sebastian fell, the disputes that must inevitably arise concerning the succession. When he saw that his nephew was fully bent on the undertaking, he earnestly and pathetically entreated him not to conduct it in person, but confide it to his generals. As the enterprise was one of peril, and as, in the event of the madman’s death, Philip would be a claimant of the Portuguese monarchy, his conduct in this respect is the more honorable: yet such is the force of national prejudice, or of party malice, that his very virtues have been blackened, his best motives willfully misrepresented. When he found his kinsman’s mind too obstinate to be swayed by reason, he gave a reluctant consent—even this was attended with the condition that Sebastian would not venture into the interior of the country—to furnish and dispatch 2,000 men to aid Sebastian. The obstinacy of the latter was confirmed by the arrival of 3,000 men from the Prince of Orange, and of 600 Italians, who were on their way to join the discontented Irish, and who were easily persuaded to divert their arms against the Moors—a people almost as odious as the heretics of England.

The preparations being at length completed, and the Cardinal Henrique vested with the regency, in June, 1578, the armament put to sea. It consisted of 9,000 Portuguese—all that could be raised—2,000 Spaniards, 3,000 Germans, and the Italians before mentioned; in all about 15,000 men, with twelve pieces of artillery, and fifty-five vessels. With a force so inadequate to the objects of the expedition, no sane mind would ever have embarked. The soldiers were wiser than their chief; they felt as if they were proceeding to certain destruction. Never, indeed, was armament more fatally misdirected. Though the disembarkation was effected early in July, between Arzilla and Tangier, Sebastian had yet to plan the operations of the campaign. It was at length resolved that the campaign should be opened by the siege of Larache, a fortress about five leagues distant from Arzilla; but whether the men should proceed by land or by sea, gave rise to new consultations. As the horsemen of Muley Moluc were hovering about the outskirts of the Christians—as 1578 the weather was oppressive, the country sandy, and the march fatiguing—circumstances which had been foreseen by the prudent Philip—common sense demanded that the armament should proceed by sea. Of this opinion were the most experienced Portuguese: it was supported with energy by Muley Hamet, who with 300 Moors had joined his ally, and whose opinion on such a subject was entitled to most implicit deference. But the rash prince declared that to reimbark in presence of the enemy would be a mark of cowardice, and would injure the final success of the cause. Just before the troops began to march General Aldaña arrived with letters from the duke of Alva. In them that able captain expressed the alarm which he had felt lest the Portuguese should venture from the coast, and how agreeably that alarm had been dissipated by the assurance that their efforts were to be confined to the reduction of Larache. He advised the king to remain satisfied with that advantage. On July 29 the army commenced its march, without discipline or zeal, and proceeded so slowly that five days had elapsed before it arrived on the banks of the Luk, within sight of the army of Moluc.

Though on the arrival of his enemies Muley Moluc was in the last stage of a lingering and fatal disease, he had prepared with activity for their reception. Having ordered his brother, the governor of Fez, to join him, he advanced towards Alcazar-quibir, and about six miles from that place he became so much exhausted that he could not sit on horseback. There his brother joined him and increased his force to about 48,000, exclusive of some Arabs, who arrived only for plunder. As he distrusted many of his followers, he caused proclamation to be made that all who wished to join his rival had his full permission to leave the camp unmolested. With the view of affording them the opportunity of escape, he selected 3,000 whom he considered the most disaffected, and dispatched them to reconnoiter the Christian camp: but, though they had actually entertained the design of forsaking him, they were so gratified with what they regarded as a proof of his confidence, in being selected for so honorable a service, that all remained faithful. His first aim was to oppose the passage of the Christians over the river, in the way to Larache, and with this view he posted his troops at the only ford in the neighborhood. It was for some time doubtful whether the two armies would come to an action. The Portuguese vainly sought for another ford; and when the river was ascertained 1578 to be too deep for the infantry, much more the artillery, to pass it, a council of war was summoned to deliberate on what was best to be done. All felt that their position was one of imminent peril, in fact, of desperation. In another day their provisions would be exhausted: they could not, therefore, return to Arzilla, nor could they reach Larache without taking a circuitous route and being constantly exposed to the enemy’s assaults. In such circumstances, owing to the most deplorable imbecility on the part of the king, the only hope of escape lay in victory. But Muley Hamet, who, from the disorganized state of the army, its insubordination, its want of zeal, and, above all, from the imbecility of its leaders, perceived that the advantage must of necessity rest with the Moors, advised a retreat, at all risks, or a resolute effort to gain Larache; and, when he found that the obstinacy of the king was not to be shaken, urged that the action should not commence until four o’clock in the afternoon. In this case, he observed, the army would, if defeated, be soon able to escape under cover of darkness. But the presumptuous youth despised every suggestion of prudence; and the contest was resolved upon early the following day. In the certainty that the Christians, through want of provisions, would soon be at his mercy, the Moorish monarch had hoped to avoid useless bloodshed by delaying the battle: but he felt that his last hour was rapidly approaching; he had no confidence in the talents of his brother; he trembled for the fidelity of a considerable portion of his army; and he knew that his authority alone could ensure obedience, his ability alone the hope of victory. He called his brother to his tent; confided to him the command of the cavalry; exhorted him to do his duty manfully, since he was about to struggle rather for himself than for a prince who had not many hours to live; and ended by vowing to the prophet that, if he exhibited any lack of courage or conduct, his head should assuredly fall. This able barbarian was then placed in a litter and carried among his troops, whom he ranged in order of battle.

The 4th of August will ever be the most memorable of days in the annals of Portugal. Both princes having addressed their troops, Sebastian from his horse, Muley Moluc from his litter, the artillery of both armies began to play, but as that of the Moors was both more numerous and better served. Sebastian gave orders for the charge. At first the Christian cavalry, unable to withstand the impetuous onset of the Moors, fell back; the fugitives were rallied 1578 by the Duc de Aveiro and the king, who arrested the fury of the assault. Seeing the Moorish cavalry begin to stagger, Sebastian placed himself at the head of his infantry, and in a vigorous charge forced the enemy to fall back on their artillery. At this moment the dying Muley Moluc, fearful of the result, ascended a horse, drew a saber, and was advancing into the midst of the struggle when his faithful servants seized the bridle, his legs, his right hand, and earnestly urged him to dismount. He insisted; they were no less resolute, and in the excitement of the moment he threatened to cut them down unless they relinquished their hold. But, to a dying frame, that excitement was immediately fatal: he swooned, fell from his horse, was replaced in his litter, when, laying his finger on his lips in sign of secrecy, he breathed his last. In compliance with his order, the event was carefully concealed from his troops, and his confidential officers continued to ride to the door of his litter, as if to receive his instructions. In the meantime the Moors had been effectually rallied; and the Portuguese infantry—the mainstay of the army—was at length broken. For some time, however, a vigorous defense, even when the lines were destroyed, was maintained by the heroic valor of Sebastian, who rallied all that he could approach, and opposed a firm rampart to the impetuosity of the Moorish horse. Once he charged his pursuers with such desperation that he laid 2,000 low. But the contest was unequal. In other parts of the field the Christians no longer offered a resistance. Two horses had already fallen under him, and the third was exhausted. His companions, anxious to save his person, had been cut down at his side. The few who survived earnestly entreated him to surrender, but he haughtily refused, observing that a king should prefer death to captivity, and again plunged into the thickest of the fight. From this moment great uncertainty hangs over his fate. That he fell on the field is confirmed by the inquiries of the succeeding day. Such of the Portuguese chivalry as survived, being brought into the presence of Muley Hamet, the brother and successor of Muley Moluc, thought that Sebastian yet lived, but this was contradicted by Dom Nuño Mascarenhas, a body servant of the late king. He asserted that he had never for a moment forsaken his master, who had been put to death before his eyes by the Moors. The prisoners obtained permission to search for the corpse. Accompanied by a detachment of Moors, they hastened to the place indicated by Mascarenhas, and there they 1578 found a body which, though naked, Resende, a valet of Sebastian, instantly declared to be that of his master. It was conveyed to the tent of the Moorish king, when it was again recognized by Dom Duarte de Menezes and by other nobles. The tears which they shed on this occasion are proof that they at least believed the body before them to be the mortal relics of their king. The body was carefully preserved by Muley Hamet, until it was subsequently delivered to the ambassadors of the king of Spain, and by them transferred to Portugal.

Never was victory more signal than that of Alcazar-Seguer. Of the Portuguese force which had left Lisbon, fifty individuals only returned; the rest were dead or in captivity, and with them the chivalry of the kingdom. Eighty of the nobles, through the good offices of Philip, were subsequently ransomed for 400,000 crusados. Had Don Antonio de Portugal, the prior of Crato, been among the number, he would have found more difficulty in escaping; but being captured by a Moor, and taken to a neighboring village, he had address enough to hide his real quality, and to obtain his deliverance for 2,000 crusados. This battle was fatal to more kings than two. Muley Hamet, seeing the total ruin of his allies, fled from the field, and was drowned while attempting to pass a river.

On the character of this prince, after the preceding relation, it is needless to dwell. The obstinacy with which Sebastian adhered to his resolution, in opposition to representations the most forcible and pathetic, the lamentable imbecility which he displayed alike in the preparation and execution of his purpose, prove that his only virtue was courage.

For some time the nation, unwilling to believe that Sebastian had perished, regarded Henrique (Henry “the Cardinal”) merely as regent; but on the arrival of the royal body, and on the confirmation of the catastrophe by every Portuguese who arrived from Africa, the cardinal, the last surviving male of the ancient house, was solemnly crowned. On his accession he exhibited a petty resentment against those who had intrigued to his prejudice during the preceding reign: some he degraded, others he merely exiled from court. In other respects he was an estimable man, but an indifferent prince. His short reign from 1578 to 1580 has nothing to distinguish it beyond the intrigues of candidates for the throne, which, as he was in his sixty-seventh year, broken down by infirmities, 1578 and evidently on the verge of the tomb, could not fail to be soon vacant. It was hoped that the nomination of an heir during his life, and the recognition of one by the states of the kingdom, would avert the troubles inseparable from a disputed succession. At first, indeed, he was advised to marry, and application was actually made to the pope for the necessary bull of secularization; but Philip of Spain, who had so close an interest in the affair, frustrated his views at the pontifical court and compelled him to abandon them.

The candidates for the throne of Henrique were: 1, Antonio, prior of Crato, who affirmed that his father Luis, brother of Joam III., was married to his mother, and that he was consequently legitimate; 2, Joam, duke of Braganza, in right of his mother Catherina, a younger daughter of the infante Dom Duarte, the youngest son of Manuel; 3, Rainucci, prince of Parma, whose mother Maria was the eldest daughter of Dom Duarte; 4, Manuel Philibert, duke of Savoy, sprung from Beatrix, a younger daughter of King Manuel; 5, Philip, king of Spain, whose claim was twofold: his mother, Isabel, being eldest daughter of Manuel, and his first queen, Maria, eldest daughter of Joam III. From this genealogy nothing can be more clear than that, if the claim were to be decided by consanguinity alone, Philip’s was by far the most powerful; but by the laws of Lamego, the princess who accepted a foreign husband was ipso facto excluded from the throne. Hence, according to the strict letter of the constitution, Isabel and Beatrix, the daughters of Manuel and Maria, the daughter of Duarte, had, by their marriages with the Emperor Charles, the duke of Savoy, and the prince of Parma, renounced all claim to the succession: hence, too, by their exclusion Joam was the true heir. Besides—and Philip was probably aware of the fact—the law of exclusion, in its very origin, had been expressly aimed at the probability of a union with Castile. Its promulgators foresaw that matrimonial alliances would often connect the two royal houses; and they could not be ignorant that, if the same prince ever became heir to the two crowns, the lesser must be absorbed in the greater—the independence of Portugal must be at an end. But the hatred of the Portuguese for the Castilians was as deep, cordial, and everlasting now as in the days of Beatrix, when they preferred the bastard grand master of Avis to that princess.

Though Philip well knew the antipathy borne to him by the 1579-1580 populace,—though he was convinced that they would even prefer the bastard Antonio to him,—he also knew that now, as on the occasion to which we have just referred, a considerable number of the more powerful nobility, and still more of the clergy, were in favor of the legitimate order of succession. The first step of Henrique, in a position at once so difficult and delicate, was to convoke the states of the monarchy, in which he proposed that the choice of a successor should be left to five nobles and prelates, whom he would select from fifteen nominated by themselves. As Philip was well aware that most of them would be selected by the third estate, the deputies of the people, who to a man were opposed to him, he made every corner of Spain resound with the noise of his warlike preparations. In the meantime his ambassadors served his views at the Portuguese court: they procured the dismissal from Lisbon of the two native candidates—the duke of Braganza and the prior de Crato, whose intrigues were to be dreaded. The latter was ordered to produce the alleged proofs of his legitimacy, which the cardinal king soon pronounced to be forgeries. The five commissioners were appointed, and an oath was exacted from the nobles, deputies, and native candidates to abide by their decision. When, in January, 1580, the three estates were reassembled at Almeria, there was so much jealousy among them—the deputies pretending that with them alone rested the designation of a successor,—and the delays interposed were so serious, that Henrique, who felt his end approaching, after consulting with the commissioners declared the number of candidates reduced to two, the duke of Braganza and the king of Spain. He is said, probably with justice, to have been personally favorable to the claims of the former, but that his dying bed was beset by the creatures of the latter, who would not allow him to declare for the duke. However this be, one of his last acts was to confirm the powers of the commissioners, whom the states, in the event of his death, had sworn to obey as regents, and to whom alone was confided this momentous decision. Besides the university of Evora, he founded several religious houses, reformed more, and, as the inquisitor-general, he extended alike the authority and establishments of the holy office.

On the death of Henrique, the regents, of whom three were believed to be in the interests of Philip, were naturally opposed by the deputies, who were in favor of Dom Antonio. Confiding in the number of his partisans, the latter forgot his oath 1580 to abide by the judgment of the regents, and hastened to Lisbon to make a violent effort for the vacant crown. He there called on the magistrates to receive him as king, but they advised him to remove from that capital, asserting that they would recognize no man who had not the suffrages of the regents. In the meantime Philip, who had ordered his army to meet at Badajoz, and had placed the celebrated duke of Alva at its head, loudly proclaimed his resolution to vindicate his rights by the sword. To the request of the regents that he would disband it, he replied that he did not recognize their authority, and that he would hold them responsible for the bloodshed which might follow. In June, having solemnly declared war against Portugal, with about 24,000 men he passed the frontier and immediately received the submission of Elvas and some minor places in the vicinity. This success did not damp the hopes of Dom Antonio. With the view of imitating the conduct of the grand master of Avis, afterwards Joam I.—a prince whom in many respects he strongly resembled—he invited the inhabitants of the towns bordering on Santarem to meet him in that capital, to consult with him on the means of their common defense. When assembled, he requested them to recognize him as governor of the kingdom; but one of his creatures suddenly exclaiming, “Real, real, por el rei Dom Antonio!”—the customary acclamation of a new monarch—the mob caught the impulse and hailed him as king. From Santarem he repaired to Lisbon—the regents fleeing at his approach—and was there, in like manner, proclaimed by his partisans. At Setubal the regents found the current of popular feeling so strong that in a few days they precipitately fled into the Algarves; indeed, they had scarcely issued from the gates when both soldiers and people proclaimed Dom Antonio. At Lisbon, where the usurper soon formed an administration, they were declared rebels, and a party of cavalry sent in pursuit of them.

This intelligence quickened the operations of the Duke of Alva, to whom Philip, who remained at Badajoz, intrusted the conduct of the war. Villaviciosa, Villabuin, Estremos, Montemor, Evora-Monte, Arroyolos, Vimiero, and many other places were either finally reduced or they voluntarily submitted to him. The Duke of Braganza, perceiving how the fortune of the war was likely to run, convinced that there was no prospect of success for him, and naturally preferring submission to a powerful monarch 1580 before the rule of a less honorable rival, hastened to make his peace with the Castilian. As a considerable party had hitherto advocated his claim, this step greatly smoothed the path of the invaders. Many nobles flocked to their standard; Alcazar do Sal received them, and after some hesitation even Setubal followed the example. But the grand object of his operations was the reduction of Lisbon, towards which he advanced. The town of Belem was soon forced to capitulate; Dom Antonio, who showed no want either of courage or ability, was assailed in his entrenchments, was defeated with severe loss, and forced to retreat on Coimbra. Lisbon was summoned. To crown the triumph of the victors, both that capital and the Portuguese fleet fell into their hands: and by the inhabitants Philip was solemnly proclaimed king of Portugal and entered upon his reign (1580-1598).

The submission of the capital and most of the great cities of the kingdom was not sufficient for the Duke of Alva. He knew that Dom Antonio was still at the head of 12,000 men, actively endeavoring to increase the number, and he dispatched Don Sancho de Avila in pursuit of him. The inhabitants of Coimbra, terrified at the severity with which the suburbs of Lisbon had been treated for opposing the arms of the victor, instantly admitted the Castilians and swore homage to Philip, but the prior had retired to Aveiro. Even here he could not hope for continued safety, and he proceeded towards Oporto, the authorities of which had shown some zeal in his behalf, and even intimated that his presence alone was wanting to secure their steadfast attachment. But his expulsion from Lisbon, the defection of Coimbra and Aveiro, and the almost universal submission to the Castilian king soon changed their sentiments. They offered the keys of their city to the duke, and when Antonio arrived they refused to admit him; but some of his partisans opened the gates, and enabled him to wreak his vengeance on his more obnoxious enemies. The excesses which he committed in that city disgusted even them. Not satisfied with plundering some of the richest merchants and ecclesiastics, he exacted a heavy contribution from all, as the price of refraining from universal pillage. In the meantime, Don Sancho advanced, without opposition, to Villa-Nova, which is separated from Oporto by the Duero. The crossing of that broad and deep river was effected with difficulty but little loss, and the Portuguese drawn up to oppose it were easily dispersed. 1580-1583 Under the walls of the city Dom Antonio marshaled 9,000 men, resolved to make a final stand for this last of his possessions: but his men were chiefly raw levies, who scarcely waited for the charge. They fled within the walls; the pursuers were also admitted, and the banner of Philip was hoisted on the towers. Amidst the hurry and confusion of the scene Dom Antonio escaped to Viana do Minho, where he embarked, but so tempestuous was the weather that he was compelled to land. His destruction seemed certain, but he eluded his pursuers, notwithstanding that a large sum had been offered, by royal proclamation, to whomsoever should take him, dead or alive; and with the view of strengthening the zeal of his adherents, he wandered, in disguise, from one town to another, until he procured the means of escape into France.

While the adventurous prior was thus cast from the pinnacle of empire and constrained to seek for a precarious safety by flight, Philip, who had been confined by sickness and delayed by the death of his queen (Anna) at Badajoz, hastened at length to take personal possession of a kingdom which his able general had conquered for him. He felt that it was both his duty and his interest to conciliate his new subjects, and he resolved, with this view, to lay aside his natural sternness of manner and refuse no reasonable boon that should be demanded. Having given orders for preserving the strictest discipline among his troops, he convoked the states at Tomar, where he swore to observe the laws, customs, usages, and privileges of the kingdom, but in the amnesty which he published on the occasion he displeased the Portuguese by excepting Dom Antonio and fifty-two other persons, and the duke and duchess of Braganza, by refusing to comply with their extravagant demands. From Tomar he proceeded to Lisbon, where he was received with much outward respect, but with much inward reluctance. He was, however, acknowledged, not only by the whole kingdom, but by the Indies and the three African fortresses. The Azores alone were disaffected to his sway: some of the islands refused to acknowledge him, defeated his general Valdes, and acquainted Dom Antonio, who was then in France, with their disposition and success. That prince, with some money and troops furnished by the queens of France and England, repaired to those islands to strengthen the force of his partisans. On the other hand, the marquis of Santa Cruz sailed with a few ships to establish the power of Philip in the Angra, and the other places which now 1583-1585 refused to submit. In a naval engagement this active officer easily triumphed over the French and English adventurers (chiefly the former), of whom more than 3,000 fell; but he stained his laurels by the execution of his prisoners.

But though the monarch was recognized by both the mother-country and her colonies; though he conferred many privileges on his new subjects, greater, assuredly, than were ever possessed by the Castilians; though he considerably diminished his resources by grants to such as had espoused his pretensions; though every place, from the highest to the lowest, was filled by natives alone; though he was as affable to all as his natural disposition would allow, and was not guilty of a single arbitrary act, he soon found that he was not, and could never be, a favorite in Portugal. In fact, the discontent was so great that instead of withdrawing, he was compelled to augment the Castilian troops in the fortresses, a measure which, however necessary, was regarded with bitter dissatisfaction. After about two years’ residence in the country he prepared to return into Castile, a circumstance that more than any other wounded the national pride. The Portuguese had always been accustomed to a resident monarch; they now murmured at the sway of a viceroy. To remind them that Spain was a kingdom as well as their own, and had an equal claim at least to the presence of a sovereign, would have been vain; they were unreasonable enough to expect that Spain should be united with their own country,—that a great monarchy should become dependent on a province. Philip paid little regard to the clamor: having caused his son to be proclaimed his successor, and invested his nephew, the Cardinal Archduke Albert, with the regency, he proceeded to the Escorial.

During the next few years Portugal had nothing to do with the foreign or domestic policy of Philip. Governed with great moderation by the archduke, enjoying internal peace, an extended commerce, and a high degree of prosperity, she might have been happy—happier than she had ever been under her native monarchs—could hereditary enmity have been forgotten and national pride sacrificed to interest. The exiled Antonio was made aware of the existing discontent: he had many well-wishers and not a few spies in the country who constantly communicated with him. After the second defeat of his armament in the Azores he abode at the French court, with the hope of obtaining increased supplies for an 1585-1595 invasion of Portugal; but as the civil wars which raged in the former country were likely to prove interminable, he passed over into England to renew his intrigues with the earl of Essex. He arrived at a favorable time, just after the destruction of the Spanish armada, when the resentment of the English was, at the highest pitch, and they were longing for revenge. At first, however, Elizabeth, with her usual prudence, disapproved of the project of a Portuguese invasion; but, with her usual weakness, wherever the tender passion was concerned, she was persuaded by the favorite earl to enter into an alliance with the exile, and to equip an armament for placing him on the throne. Nothing can better exhibit the unprincipled impostor than certain conditions on his side of that alliance. In conformity with the English article of the treaty,—one not over honorable to Elizabeth herself, since she grasped at advantages which generosity, or even justice, would have scorned,—20,000 men were embarked at Plymouth in 120 vessels, the whole commanded by Drake and Norris. The success of this expedition corresponded with its flagitious design. After an unsuccessful attempt on Coruña, the armament cast anchor at Peniche, and disembarked the troops who marched to Torres Vedras, where they proclaimed Dom Antonio, and continued their route towards the capital. But the peasantry, instead of joining his standard, fled at his approach, some to increase the force of the archduke: scarcely a Portuguese, high or low, came over to his party. As the English general approached the suburbs, the monks, the women, and most of the inhabitants retired within the city. Still there were, doubtless, many who wished well to the cause of the adventurer, not from affection to him, but through hatred of the Spaniards; the majority, however, remained neutral. The ill-success of the English, who repeatedly assailed the outworks, stifled the intrigues of the disaffected, and a vigorous sortie decided the fate of the expedition. The English general, who throughout exhibited strange imbecility, retreated; he was pursued; many of his followers were cut off; with the rest he sought refuge in the tower of Cascaes, which the cowardly governor surrendered to him. Here, considering the want of provisions, and the deception which had been practiced on him by Dom Antonio, who had persuaded him that the moment a hostile standard were raised it would be joined by all true Portuguese, he wisely resolved to return home. This was fortunately the last time Portugal was cursed with the 1595-1621 prior’s presence. Deserted by his nearest friends, neglected by the sovereigns, his former allies, in 1595 he ended his unprincipled life in merited obscurity and indigence.

The remaining actions of Philip must be sought in the history of Spain. Four years before his death, on the removal of the cardinal regent to the archiepiscopal see of Toledo, the government of Portugal was intrusted to a commission of five, at the end of whom was the archbishop of Lisbon. In 1598 he died.

Philip I. of Portugal was Philip II. of Spain and the two kings of that name who followed him, while Philip II. and Philip III. of Portugal, must be identified as Philip III. and Philip IV. of Spain. The former of these princes, in the course of his reign, from 1598 to 1621, visited his Portuguese subjects only once. On this occasion the hungry and ambitious chivalry expected much from his liberality; but, except a few, all were disappointed. None but such as showed a zealous attachment to Spain and approved the measures emanating from Madrid, however contrary to the interests or prejudices of the natives, could hope to share in the royal favor. Nor, after the first enthusiasm of his reception was past, did the populace admire their king: if he did not treat them with studied insult,—a charge leveled at him by the Portuguese historians,—he exhibited so great a predilection towards his hereditary subjects that he could not fail mortally to offend a people who would not even have been satisfied with an equal share of his attention. How much of truth may be contained in the accusations against him would be vain to inquire: that they are exaggerated may safely be admitted; yet exaggeration proves that abuses existed, however party coloring may have affected their description.

If the Portuguese had so much reason to complain of the government of the second Philip, that of his son and successor, Philip III. (1621-1640) was, doubtless, still more onerous. A good government, like that of Philip I., would have been hated; a bad one would naturally add to the existing mass of discontent. That the weak, the profligate, and the unprincipled conde, Duc de Olivares, could direct the affairs of this kingdom with advantage either to it or to his royal master will not be expected by anyone who has perused the account of his administration in Spain. He not only aggravated the abuses of his predecessors, but added greatly to their number. That he had resolved to reduce the kingdom to the condition of a 1621-1640 province, to destroy its regalities, its independent jurisdiction, its separate legislature, may, however, be doubted; but there can be no doubt, that, by forced loans, by intolerable taxes, and by using the native soldiers to foreign wars, he wished to break the proud spirit of the people—to make them the mere slaves of his will. Finding themselves ground to the very earth by exactions, their complaints disregarded, their persons insulted, their prosperity at an end, we need not wonder that they turned their eyes towards the Duke of Braganza, the next heir in the order of succession. Too discerning not to perceive the rising sentiment, and too sagacious to show that he perceived it, that ambitious noble adopted a line of conduct which could not fail to forward his views. Though pressed, the duke was too wise to declare himself at this moment: he knew that his combinations were not formed, that the chief nobility were yet to be gained, that the all-powerful voice of the clergy could not yet be commanded, and that a mere popular ebullition, unconnected with mature plans and simultaneous operations with the other arms of the state, would be worse than useless; he therefore determined to await the silent but resistless course of events. The sequel soon justified his policy. The chief nobles, prelates, cavalleros, and clergy were suddenly summoned to Madrid. What could be the object in this mysterious, unexpected, and unparalleled mandate? Conjecture was vain: to disobey it would be dangerous, and a magnificent display of retinues immediately filled the road from Lisbon to the Spanish capital. What passed at the conference between the ministers and this deputation will never be known, but that some extraordinary concession was required from them may easily be believed. That their consent was demanded to the incorporation of the Portuguese with the Spanish Cortes, or that a certain number of deputies from the three estates should be summoned at the same time with those of Castile, in other words, that the kingdom should be forever degraded to the rank of a province, is loudly affirmed by the Portuguese. But another reason for this extraordinary mandate may be assigned, more plausible than any. The court could not be ignorant of the disposition of the people towards the Duke of Braganza, nor, perhaps, with his intrigues. His arrest might be resolved on: and, as it could not be effected in Portugal, where his connections were so numerous and powerful, he must be inveigled to Madrid. This supposition is confirmed by three facts: he had evaded compliance 1640 when summoned alone to the capital; he was not present now; and the subsequent endeavors of the minister to draw him to Madrid were as earnest as they were ineffectual. Disappointed in his views, Olivares now proceeded more boldly: he ordered all the disposable troops in Portugal to march into Catalonia and the Duke of Braganza to place himself at their head. But the war of Catalonia was not a national object: it concerned the Castilians only; both nobles and people resolved to disobey the mandate; but, lest an open refusal should subject them to instant invasion, they merely demanded a short delay, until their preparations were matured.

In the meantime the Duke of Braganza was pursuing his end with persevering art: knowing how suspicious was the Spanish court, how jealously every action was watched, he plunged more deeply into his favorite amusements, and asserted, that when the troops were ready to march, he should not be wanting at his post. Though his emissaries were busily occupied, it is certain that he himself was not eager to risk his own person. If the conspiracy succeeded, he was willing enough to reap the advantage; if it failed, he wished to avoid implication in it. At length, when obedience or open refusal to the orders of the court was imperative, the conspirators hastened to Lisbon and began their meetings in the gardens of Antonio de Almada. It was agreed that one of their body should be deputed to see the duke, to know whether he would accept and defend the crown without delay. His consent was obtained and a day appointed for the insurrection. The day (December 1) at length dawned and found the conspirators, who were admirably organized, prepared for the struggle. A pistol was fired near the entrance of the palace, and in a moment two numerous bands, both well armed, entered by different portals and fell on the Castilian and Swiss guards, while the simultaneous rallying cry of “Live our King Joam IV.!” sufficiently indicated the design of the assault. The guard being overpowered, the conspirators rushed towards the apartments of the vice-queen. Meeting an officer of the household, they shouted “Joam IV.!” he raised the cry of “Philip forever!” and was instantly laid dead at their feet. The conspirators were now joined by thousands of the populace; the cry of “Viva el rei Joam IV.!” became universal; a council of regency was formed, at the head of which was the archbishop of Lisbon; orders were sent into the provinces to proclaim the new king without delay; they were everywhere executed with the most hearty good-will; Joam 1557-1640 was triumphantly escorted to the capital, and the scepter of Spain was forever broken by the election of the house of Braganza.

Meanwhile in the narrative of domestic transactions, from the accession of Sebastian to that of Joam IV., it is well to note the chief events which, during that period, occurred in the colonies.

In India, though the prosperity of the Portuguese empire was evidently on the decline, the viceroys were sometimes good men, and the inferior governors always brave: hence its ruin was gradual. Under Constantine de Braganza, successor of Barreto, Daman, a city belonging to the king of Cambay, was added to the empire, and the island of Ternate was reconquered; the king of Cananor and the zamorin of Calicut were humbled; the Abyssinians were protected against the Turks; some acquisitions were made in Ceylon, and the petty princes of Malabar, ever prone to hostilities, were defeated. Under the same governor, Goa was elevated into an archbishopric and two suffragans were sent to aid him in the important office—the means, alas! were, too often, sword and fagot—of converting the heathen. The administration of Don Luis de Ataide was signalized by the defeat of the combined Hindu princes, who laid siege to Goa, and by other successes, splendid, indeed, so far as regarded the valor of the Portuguese, the disproportion of their force with that of the enemy, and the signal discomfiture of the latter, but of no advantage beyond the fame of victory. On the recall of this valiant noble, the government of the eastern empire was divided into three:—The chief, called, par excellence, the government of India, comprised the maritime regions from Cape Guadafar, on the coast of Ethiopia, to the island of Ceylon; the second, that of Monomotapa, comprehended the African coasts, from that region to the Conga; the third, that of Malacca, extended from Pegu to China. The second of these governments was of no long continuance; the first was still acknowledged as the viceroyalty. Ataide was a second time appointed to the dignity, and such was the luster of his administration that the golden days of the Albuquerques seemed for a moment to be revived. But the rapacity of the governor of Malacca lost the Moluccas, except one settlement on the island of Tidon. Under the Conde de Santa Cruz several successful expeditions were sent against the Mohammedan corsairs who infested the African and Indian coasts. But it is impossible to mention, much more to detail, the interminable 1557-1640 wars which were undertaken by succeeding viceroys. We shall observe, by way of summary, that the marquis almost uniformly triumphed over his enemies; that his immediate successors gallantly defended the settlements; that under Francisco de Gama the Dutch first appeared in the Indian seas, and were expelled by him; that they soon returned and inflicted considerable injury on the trading establishments; that the English soon resolved to share in the lucrative traffic of these regions; that the Portuguese, English, and Dutch contended for the exclusive possession of that traffic; that the latter people formed settlements, both in the eastern continent of India and among the islands; that, as their power increased that of the Portuguese diminished; that the Portuguese were frequently defeated by the Dutch, who expelled them from Ceylon; that they regained possession of some settlements on the coasts, but not of their ancient influence; that in most of their subsequent actions they had the disadvantage,—the influence of the English and the Dutch every day increasing in these seas; that they were expelled from Ormuz by the Persians; that even Goa itself was insulted by the exploits of the Dutch. In short, on the accession of Joam IV. the Portuguese settlements in the East were reduced to half their former number, and those that remained were in great peril.

In northwest Africa the possessions in Mauritania continued to be confined to the three fortresses which remained from the time of Joam III.; nor were those then molested. For some time, indeed, Tangier refused to acknowledge Joam, and adhered to Philip as the rightful sovereign of Portugal, no less than of Spain; but it was surprised by a resolute body of troops, headed by one of Joam’s officers. In this region, which from the time of Joam I. had been the constant theater of war between the Christians and Mohammedans, uninterrupted tranquillity reigned from the disaster of Sebastian. Nor on other parts of the African coast was there much change during the period before us. The Portuguese continued to have settlements, rather for trade than dominion, in Guinea, Angola, Congo, Monomotapa, Madagascar, and Mozambique. Yet even here the Dutch showed their adventurous spirit: in 1638 they rapidly reduced Fort St. George on the coast of Guinea, and the English were ready enough to profit by the example.

The discovery of Brazil has been already related: settlements 1557-1640 continued to be formed on that part of the American coast from the reign of Manuel to that of Henrique. Into this, as well as the other possessions of the Portuguese, the Christian religion was introduced; but though the original missionaries, and still more the Jesuits, labored with great zeal to disseminate it, such were the obstacles opposed by the views of the inhabitants that little good was effected. Nor was the temporal state of the Portuguese dominions without its disasters. Here, as everywhere else, the Dutch contended for a share of the commerce; and here, too, as in India and Africa, that contention was ruinous to the original settlers. In 1624 an armament under Willekens anchored off the Brazilian coast, with the intention of engrossing the whole advantage of trade by expelling the Portuguese. He assailed the capital, San Salvador, with such fury that it was compelled to surrender; and the viceroy—it was the seat of government for the province—was sent a prisoner to Holland. This intelligence spread great consternation. To recover that important settlement, the Portuguese, though oppressed by the yoke of Spain, made a surprising effort:—they fitted out twenty-six vessels, carrying some thousands of men,—an effort the more laudable when we consider the interminable wars they were compelled to maintain in India. San Salvador was speedily recovered. But the merchants of Holland were not discouraged: they equipped new armaments, which inflicted great injury on the commerce of the Portuguese. In fact, their ships covered the deep from China to the West Indies; and, next to the hope of gain, their greatest stimulus was hatred to that declining people. The district of Pernambuco soon acknowledged the sway of the republic; to regain it, another armament left the ports of the Peninsula. This expedition was disastrous; in two successive engagements it was almost annihilated by the Dutch, and the remnant with difficulty reached Portugal. A second, though on a larger scale, was equally unsuccessful; so that the enemy added Tamaraca to their other conquests. Masters of above 100 leagues of territory, they aspired to the possession of all Brazil. A fleet for this purpose left the Texel, in 1636, under the command of Count Maurice of Nassau. In the first action he triumphed over a Portuguese general; he next reduced Porto Calvo and three other fortresses. A second victory was followed by the submission of other places, by offers of alliance from the natives, and by the conquest of all Paraiba; 1557-1640 but he failed in an attack on San Salvador. In the following campaign (that of 1638), both parties having received reinforcements, contended in the open field: the combined forces of Spain and Portugal yielded before the energy of the republic. In short, half the settlements were in the power of Count Maurice, when news arrived of the accession of Joam IV.

The progress and decline of the Portuguese colonial empire would, if treated at length, be an interesting subject of contemplation. The successive acquisition of the islands on the western coast of Africa; of Congo, Angola, and Guinea; of Sofa, Mozambique, and Melinda on the eastern; of Calicut, Cochin, Ormuz, Cananor, Chaul, Bazain, Daman, and the whole maritime coast of Malabar; of the vast regions of Brazil; of Ceylon, Malacca, and the Moluccas, exclusive of settlements, purely commercial, in other parts; repeated triumphs over the most powerful princes of the east,—Persians, Turks, Arabs, Hindoos; the monarchs of Bengal, Aracan, Pegu, and Siam,—all, too, performed by a handful of adventurers,—must strike the mind with astonishment. On the accession of Joam the following acknowledged his scepter: half of Brazil; the islands and settlements of western Africa, with the fortresses of Mauritania, Mombaza, and Mozambique; the cities of Diu, Daman, Bazain; the district of Chaul; the fortresses of Onor, Bracalor, Mangalor, Cananor, Cangranor; the fortresses and towns of Cochin, Coulam, Negapatam, Meliapoor; a part of Ceylon; some settlements in Malacca; Tidon, in the Moluccas; Macao, in China, and some other places of minor importance: the rest were recovered by the original owners, or in possession of the Dutch, English, and Spaniards. We shall soon see in how precarious a state were most of even these.

Chapter XVIII

HOUSE OF BRAGANZA. 1640-1788

When Joam, or John, IV. succeeded in 1640, he was not so sanguine as to expect that whatever might be the embarrassments of the Spaniards, and however unanimous his own subjects in his defense, his post would not prove one of difficulty, perhaps of danger. Hence, immediately after his coronation—a ceremony performed with great splendor a few days succeeding his proclamation—and after the convocation of the states, in which his title was acknowledged, and his son Theodosio declared his heir, he began vigorously to prepare for the inevitable contest. His first step was to send ambassadors to foreign courts, to procure his recognition.

By France, England,^[36] Sweden, and the States-General these ambassadors were readily received; Denmark favored the views of Joam, but, for fear of the German emperor, would not openly receive one. In this situation the pope resolved to temporize, yet he leaned more to the court of Spain; he withheld the necessary bulls of episcopal confirmation during many years, nor was an ambassador received from Lisbon. But these missions produced no advantage; though promises of assistance were made by France, then at war with Spain—by England and Holland, which were frequently so—the new monarch found that his chief dependence must rest on the valor of his own people. He introduced a better discipline into his army; he fortified Lisbon; he strengthened his fortresses on the Spanish frontier, those especially in Alemtejo; he called on the nation to rally round the throne, and the call was heard.

As the Spanish troops were occupied in Catalonia, Philip could bring no great force to bear on his revolted subjects; nor did Joam, for the same reason, judge a great army necessary in 1641-1647 any one place. But he maintained several respectable bodies of troops towards the Galician and Estremaduran frontiers. His object was defense, not aggression, though the impatience of his soldiers often led them to retaliate on the Spaniards by predatory invasions into the neighboring territory. The hostilities on both sides were disgraced by the most horrid excesses. We cannot dwell on hostilities perpetually recurring, and, during the life of Joam, uniformly indecisive; they commenced in 1641 and continued, with intermissions, to the last year of that prince. Let it be sufficient to observe that, in general, they were in favor of the Portuguese, who reduced several of the secondary fortresses on the Spanish border. Thus, instead of recovering a revolted kingdom, Philip could not completely defend his own.

Though Joam thus tranquilly ascended, and without difficulty maintained himself on the throne, it was not to be expected that everyone would approve the revolution, or that Spain had no partisans. Not a few of the nobility beheld with envy this elevation of a house which, except its original base derivation from royalty, and, subsequently, a matrimonial connection with it, had no one claim to the distinction. Others regretted the dissolution of the union with the sister kingdom: they saw that nature—they knew that interest—demanded the subjection of the whole Peninsula to the same scepter. An equal, perhaps superior, number were gained by the gold of Castile. In the first year of this monarch’s reign a conspiracy was organized, by the restless archbishop of Braga, for restoring the crown to Philip. But the correspondence with the court of Madrid was detected; the lay conspirators were arrested, condemned, beheaded, or quartered; the primate, with two other bishops and an inferior ecclesiastic, were sentenced to perpetual imprisonment. The archbishop died a few months afterwards; whether naturally may be reasonably doubted.

While these affairs were passing in Portugal, hostilities were frequent in America, Africa, and the East. Though Holland furnished Joam with a body of troops to resist the invasion of the Spaniards, they were by no means disposed to forego the advantages which they were acquiring in other parts—least of all in Brazil. Under the pretext that they had commenced hostilities originally, not against the Portuguese, but against Philip, and that, after preparations so expensive they could not 1642-1656 afford to lay down their arms, they resolved to pursue their ambitious designs in the New World. On the accession of Joam, as before observed, they were in possession of one-half of Brazil. But the inhabitants of Pernambuco, of whom the most considerable, in point of influence, were of Portuguese extraction, were easily induced to rise against the heretical strangers. In the first two actions the Dutch were defeated; immediately afterwards a number were surprised in a fort and, with their general, compelled to surrender. These successes were followed by the recovery of several minor fortresses. They reduced fort after fort and gained battle after battle, until, in 1654, they expelled the enemy from the last possession which the republic held in those vast regions.

Commensurate with these hostilities were others on the western coast of Africa, especially in Angola, and in the island of St. Thomas, where the Dutch, by force or stratagem, obtained settlements. By superior intelligence and by indefatigable industry these enterprising strangers soon engrossed the trade of the country and extended their territory so as to alarm both the local governors and the court of Lisbon. An armament was equipped from Rio Janeiro, and both the island and the fortresses in Angola were recovered.

But if the arms of Joam were thus successful in Brazil and Africa, in India they met with many reverses. In several engagements the Dutch had the advantage, and in 1655 they succeeded in wholly expelling the Portuguese from the island of Ceylon.

Joam died in 1656. His eldest son, Prince Theodosio,—of whose rising talents he had shown a mean jealousy, whose enterprises he had thwarted, and whom he would not allow to interfere in public affairs,—preceded him to the tomb. Three other children survived him:—1. Catherine, married to Charles II. king of England; 2. the infante Alfonso, who, by the death of Theodosio, was heir to the monarchy; 3. the infante Pedro, who, as we shall soon perceive, succeeded Alfonso.

On the death of Joam the new king Alfonso VI. was only in his thirteenth year, and as from the earliest infancy he had exhibited no proofs of understanding, but a waywardness which would have adorned a savage, the queen-mother was intrusted with the regency, not only until he should attain his 1656-1667 majority, but until the states of the kingdom should pronounce him competent to govern. The ceremony, however, of his coronation was performed with due splendor.

The administration of this princess—a lady of the house of Guzman, her father being the eighth duke of Medina-Sidonia—was distinguished for prudence and spirit. As a Castilian, she was at first obnoxious to the people, who suspected that she must have a leaning towards her own country; but the vigor with which she prepared for war, and the perseverance with which she conducted it, prove that the suspicion was injurious. The whole campaign was disgraced by the most deplorable imbecility on the part both of the Portuguese and the Spanish leaders, until the Count de Schomberg and Don Juan of Austria were opposed to each other. One day the Portuguese generals erred through rashness, another through excess of prudence, or downright cowardice; now an attempt was made on the almost impregnable bulwarks of Badajoz, now the Portuguese had not spirit to invest a fortress with moldering walls and garrisoned by sixty men. In all these hostile transactions nothing is more evident than that they were entire strangers to the art of war—that they had neither discipline nor science. Had not the Spaniards been nearly as bad, Alemtejo at least, if not Tras os Montes, must soon have acknowledged the Catholic king. In 1659 they were defeated before Elvas, which they had long and vainly besieged; but their mortification was somewhat diminished by the reduction of Moncao, in the province Entre Douro e Minho. After the peace of the Pyrenees, between France and Spain, when Catalonia was pacified and the Spanish troops were at liberty to turn their undivided force against Portugal, no doubt was entertained that this country would be subdued. But the queen-regent did not neglect to strengthen the national cause by alliances. Some French, Dutch, and English adventurers under Schomberg were obtained; the infanta Catherina, with the fortress of Tangier and a large sum of money, was given to Charles II. as the condition of his alliance, and for the aid of some English regiments. These auxiliary forces, fortunately for themselves, were placed under the gallant Schomberg: had they been confided to a Portuguese, they would speedily have disappeared in detail, without the acquisition of a single hamlet. But he sustained so much opposition, so much jealousy and ill-will from the chiefs associated with him 1656-1667 that he could not prevent Don Juan from obtaining some rapid successes. Among them was the conquest of Evora. But this advantage was soon neutralized by a signal victory attained over the Castilians; it was still further improved by the recovery of Evora:—both monuments of Schomberg’s ability and of English valor. To repair these disasters Don Juan collected a superior force and advanced to the frontiers, but he effected nothing. In fact, he seems to have been as much embarrassed by his imbecile coadjutors as Schomberg himself: he complained, and was deprived of the command, which was bestowed on the Marquis de Caracene. This change was fortunate for Portugal, for the new general was so signally defeated at Villaviciosa that it may be said to have secured the independence of that kingdom. This was the last noted exploit during the reign of Alfonso.

During these hostilities the court of Lisbon exhibited strange scenes. The depraved tastes, the low and profligate habits, the headstrong perversity of the king, daily acquired strength, and afforded a melancholy prospect to the nation. He associated with the lowest of the people; he introduced them into his palace, or accompanied them in nocturnal expeditions, undertaken as much for bloodshed as for mere mischief. His band of young companions became the terror of the capital. Once the council of state, headed by the Duc de Cadaval, summoned courage enough to expostulate with him on the danger to which he exposed his person and kingdom; besought him to forsake his savage amusements, in which blood was sure to flow, sometimes to the loss of life, and represented to him, with force and pathos, the effects of so extraordinary an example. He listened with a careless air and refused to promise anything. The influence of the queen was no less ineffectual. At length the indignant nobles, at her instigation, forcibly seized two brothers, the vilest and most dangerous of his satellites, and sent them away to Brazil; but other creatures were found to supply their place. The latter were even more dangerous than their predecessors. They persuaded him that his mother wished to keep him, throughout life, in a state of pupilage, and that she was laboring to place the crown on the head of his younger brother, the infante Pedro. Hence the jealousy—we might add, the hatred—with which he regarded both: if he durst not exhibit it towards the former, he could, at least, heap every species of insult and caprice on the latter. With all his stupidity, 1656-1667 the royal brute felt that he was a king; he knew that the time of his majority was long past; he insisted on being invested with the regal authority in all its extent; and after a struggle between him and his mother he forced her, in June, 1662, to resign the regency. The removal of so salutary a rein on his excesses could not fail to make things worse. It was hoped that, if a wife were procured him, he would at least refrain from some excesses, and one was found in Mademoiselle d’Aumale, daughter of the Duc de Nemours. But he treated his beautiful queen with open neglect; he disregarded alike her entreaties, her tears, and her remonstrances; nor did the death of his mother make the slightest change in his conduct.

But the strangest part of these transactions remains to be told. That the queen-mother had resigned her authority with reluctance is certain; that she had entertained thoughts of procuring the transfer of the scepter from Alfonso to Pedro is confirmed by the general tenor of her actions. It is no less true that Pedro aspired to supplant his brother; that he intrigued with the nobles and prelates for that end; and that, by the outward decorum of his conduct, by a scrupulous regard to the decencies of his station, he labored to make the contrast between himself and the king too marked to be overlooked. Equally certain it is that no one observed this contrast more narrowly than the youthful queen, who soon formed a suspicious connection with the infante. That their plans for the future were soon arranged is evident enough from the sequel. When Pedro’s plans were matured, when he had interested a considerable party in his behalf, he sought an open rupture—and he had causes enough—with the king. In October, 1667, a furious mob, which had been gained by his emissaries, conducted him to the palace, insisting that justice should be done him on his enemies. The paltry spirit which Alfonso displayed on this occasion completed his degradation in the eyes of the populace, who began loudly to exclaim that the country must have a new king. To the same intrigues was owing a resolution for assembling the states, ostensibly for the correction of internal abuses, in reality to change the government. But before the day of convocation arrived the revolution had been effected. On November 21 the queen hastily left the palace and retired to the convent of St. Francis. Her pretext was the ill-usage she hourly received from Alfonso—usage which 1667-1668 was, doubtless, undeserved, but which she artfully exaggerated. The true reason for so extraordinary a step appeared in a letter which she immediately wrote to the king, and in which, after adverting to her domestic sorrows, she surprised the public by saying that her marriage was, from its origin, null, that it had never been consummated, that she was, consequently, mistress of her own actions, and that she would return to France without delay.

The perusal of this extraordinary letter filled Alfonso with indignant wonder. He hastened to the convent, and, on being refused admission, he ordered the gates to be broken; but his brother, arriving with an escort, persuaded or compelled him to depart. The infante then held an interview with the rebellious queen, and completed his plans. Early next day one of his creatures, with a select body of men, proceeded to the palace and forced his way into the royal bedchamber, upbraided the bewildered monarch and advised him to make a virtue of necessity,—to resign the crown in favor of his brother. The counselors of state, who had all been gained, and who in their turn had gained the authorities and people of Lisbon, renewed the menace and forced the king to sign an act of renunciation. He was then arrested and sentenced to perpetual confinement, but with permission to enjoy the comforts of life. In conclusion, Pedro was proclaimed regent, and in that character was recognized by an assembly of the states. By his creatures the same states were persuaded to petition the queen, who no longer showed any inclination to leave the kingdom, that she would accept the hand of so deserving a prince. She required no solicitation: she had already dispatched a confidential messenger to her uncle, the Cardinal Vendôme, the papal legate, for a brief authorizing a second marriage, and the cardinal, anxious that his family should contain a queen, expedited it without delay. Subsequently, an application was made to the pope, to confirm the dispensation of the cardinal; and Clement, who saw that the mischief was done in the consummation of the marriage, admitted the allegation of impotence and dispatched the brief of confirmation.

Thus concluded one of the most extraordinary scenes that has ever been exhibited to the eyes of mankind,—extraordinary alike for effrontery and duplicity. However the constitution of Alfonso might have been impaired by debauchery, he was not 1668-1683 impotent. The whole proceeding is explicable enough. The queen felt that she was neglected; she admired the infante, and was gained by him as an accessory to the long-meditated plot of dethroning the king: she had little repugnance to a scheme which would at once secure the continuance of her dignity and furnish her with a more welcome husband,—which would gratify her ambition and her passion. The same motives—the acquisition of a throne and a beautiful wife—would have no less influence with the infante. This hypothesis explains the obstinacy with which Pedro, some months prior to the revolution, refused another princess of France, whom the ambassador of Portugal had selected for him, and whom both Alfonso and the royal council had urged him to marry. The means adopted by these paramours were even more daring, more indicative of the contempt with which they regarded public opinion, than the end itself.^[37]

Before this iniquitous consummation of ambition and lust, Pedro had the glory of ending the long dispute with Spain. Both nations were exhausted by their past exertions, and both naturally inclined for peace. It was concluded at Lisbon, under the mediation of Charles II., king of England. By it all conquests made by either party were restored, and the subjects of each nation admitted to the privileges enjoyed by the most favored people. The arms of Portugal were immediately erased from the escutcheon of the Spanish monarchy. This was almost the only transaction of moment in which the regent was engaged, from his marriage to the death of Alfonso. There was, indeed, a conspiracy formed to restore that prince, but it was easily detected and its authors punished. That unfortunate monarch was first removed to the Azores, and when, from the continuance of peace, both external and internal, no fear could be entertained of a commotion, he was transferred to the palace of Cintra, where in 1683 he ended his days. The same year was fatal to the queen, who left no other issue than a daughter, the infanta Isabella.

On the death of Alfonso, the coronation of the new king Pedro II. was celebrated with the usual pomp and circumstance. 1683-1706 His reign, like his regency, was passed in profound peace, and, consequently, furnishes no materials for history, until the celebrated war of the Spanish Succession, following the demise of Carlos II., called him into the field. The motives which induced him to take part with the allies against Philip V. have been already explained, and the chief events of the war related. In the midst of these hostilities, 1706, Pedro breathed his last.

During the reigns of Alfonso and Pedro the affairs of India continually declined. The Dutch, the most persevering enemies that ever assailed the Portuguese empire in the East, not satisfied with the richest settlements in Malacca and in the India islands, prepared to expel the subjects of his most faithful majesty from the continent. In 1659 the Dutch laid siege to Cochin, and though the season, rather than the courage of the defenders, compelled them to raise it, their arms were generally triumphant, while on those of the Portuguese success seldom shone. In 1660 they blockaded the bar of Goa, thereby preventing the annual sailing of merchandise for Lisbon. In the following year they took the fortress of Coulam, and invested Bracalor, while their Mohammedan allies pillaged Bazain. Bombay was delivered to the English. In 1665 Diu was plundered by the Mohammedans, 3,000 of the inhabitants being led into hopeless captivity, the rest put to the sword. Finally, Cochin was reduced by the king of Travancore, and the Portuguese empire in India was confined to Goa, Diu, and a few commercial settlements on the coast of Malabar and in the islands. The African and Brazilian possessions continued unimpaired.

By his second queen, a princess of Bavaria, Pedro had several children, most of whom died either in infancy or without issue. He was succeeded by the infante Joam, born in 1688.

If we except the war of the Succession, into which the new king entered with as much zeal as his predecessor, and the chief events of which have been already related, there is nothing in Joam V.’s reign (1706-1750) to interest the general reader. The history of Portugal from the peace of Utrecht to the French Revolution is singularly barren of events. Since the country was engaged in no foreign wars, and exhibits nothing novel in its internal government, the historian has little more to do than to record the accession and death of Joam. Once, indeed, a serious misunderstanding embroiled the court with that of Castile and threatened 1706-1755 hostilities. In this condition, unable to cope alone with her formidable rival, Portugal renewed her alliances with the other European powers, and called on the assistance of England, which was readily afforded; but the address of the Portuguese ambassador at Paris turned aside the gathering storm. During the tranquillity of a long reign Joam cultivated with zeal and success the good-will of foreign courts and afforded increased prosperity to commerce. From his foundation of the royal academy of history, and from the reforms which he introduced into the system of collegiate education, we may also infer his attachment to letters. In the first years of its existence this academy displayed an honorable activity; but the benefits which it has since bestowed on literature have been “few and far between.” Joam was no less attached to religion: he founded the magnificent church and convent of Mafra and procured from the pope a golden bull, by which Lisbon was created a patriarchal see. Another honorable proof alike of his superiority to a miserable superstition, and of his attachment to justice, is to be found in the gratifying fact that he allowed advocates to the prisoners of the inquisition. If to this we add that he gave new vigor to the civil tribunals, we shall have exhausted the few materials of his policy furnished us by the national historians. His reign was prosperous and happy, even when allowance is made for a famine, which, in 1734, afflicted the central provinces, and for an earthquake, which did much damage in Algarve. The last eight years of his life Joam was the victim of disease, which he is said to have borne with becoming fortitude. He died in July, 1750. His character is drawn in the brightest colors by the bombastic writers of his nation: he is represented as the most pious of sovereigns—how such piety, such virtues, may consort with the grossest immorality—for this “adorable king” left three illegitimate children, of whom one became inquisitor-general, another archbishop of Braga,—we leave for Portuguese causists to decide. By his queen, Mariana of Austria, Joam had a numerous issue: three children only survived him—Maria, queen of Spain, his successor, José, and the infante Dom Pedro.

The most remarkable event in the reign of José, or Joseph, is the celebrated earthquake, which, in November, 1755, laid so great a portion of Lisbon in ruins. That fearful disaster has been often and minutely described. Its severity was aggravated by a conflagration,—the work possibly of some incendiaries who 1755-1760 wished to profit still further by the general confusion,—which raged with terrific violence, and thirty churches and many thousands of houses were ruined, while the loss of life cannot be estimated, even by the most moderate calculation, below twenty thousand persons. In this awful visitation the royal family were fortunate enough to escape, but the Spanish ambassador, with many other persons of distinction, both foreign and native, was buried amidst the ruins.

Scarcely had the alarm caused by this fatal visitation of Heaven subsided when the kingdom was agitated by a conspiracy against the life of the monarch. By whose instigation, or with what view it was formed, it would be vain to inquire; the whole affair has been wrapped in dark, probably, in studied, mystery. One party threw the blame on certain ecclesiastics who were incensed at the reform instituted by Dom José; another, on the creatures of Spain, who were eager to reunite the two countries under the same scepter; a third, on the Jesuits, who are represented as indignant at the restriction of their ancient privileges; others agreed to throw it on a prince of the family. It is certain that the Duke of Aveiro, the Conde de Atougia, with three nobles and one lady of the house of Tavora, were executed on a public scaffold. It is no less true that the Jesuits were implicated in the treason,—on what foundation we are not informed; that soon afterwards their possessions were seized and their expulsion decreed by the crown; in fact, every possible calamity, even the earthquake, was ascribed to the poor fathers of Jesus. This, and some other causes, led to frequent and acrimonious disputes with the populace: on one occasion all the servants of the pope were expelled from Portugal; all Portuguese in the states of the church were recalled, and all intercourse between the two courts religiously prohibited for some years.

José, or Joseph, had soon need of assistance from an ally whom he had neglected. To an authoritative mandate that he would take part with the courts of France and Spain against England, he returned a refusal, both because he had no wish to engage his subjects in a war alien to their interests and because he had too much pride to submit to dictation. Had he, indeed, as was demanded by the Bourbon kings, consented to receive a Spanish garrison into his principal fortresses,—a demand made under the pretense that they would thereby be more effectually defended against the probable attempts of the English,—his kingdom 1760-1763 would have again become a province of the Catholic monarchy. It was alike his duty and his interest to observe a strict neutrality, and when he asserted his resolution to that effect, war was declared against him by Carlos, and Spanish troops were removed towards the frontier. In this emergency he naturally solicited the aid of England, and was immediately furnished with troops, arms, ammunition, and money. In the opening of the campaign success attended the arms of the invaders: they took Miranda, Braganza, and Almeida. Here their triumphs ceased. As the Portuguese had not one good general, the Count de Lippe, at the instance of the English government, arrived from Germany and assumed the command. In his operations he was well assisted by General Burgoyne, and they had soon the glory of freeing the Portuguese soil from the Bourbon army. As before related in the reign of Carlos III., the two courts, hopeless of success and afraid of greater disasters, solicited and obtained peace. Throughout this campaign José had reason to lament the deplorable state of his troops: they had neither organization nor discipline. When assembled they had no confidence in themselves, and were consequently ready enough to flee or to surrender. On the conclusion of hostilities he retained the Count de Lippe, with some British officers, to reform his army; nor were their exertions in vain.

The remainder of his reign, which was notable for the able administration of the Marquis of Pombal, was employed by this king in promoting the industry and improving the condition of his people. What, in such a country, we should still less have expected, he founded schools in the great towns and improved the system of study in all the faculties taught in the university of Coimbra: Aristotle was forsaken for Bacon, scholastic subtleties for sound ratiocination. A much nobler monument of his was a decree by which the grandsons of slaves, and all who should be born after the same date, were declared free: though the benefit was restricted to Portugal alone, it was an amazing stride in the career of improvement. Nor were these the only advantages he procured for his people, whose gratitude he won by other means, less striking, indeed, but not less valuable. It is some gratification to add that his reforms were fully appreciated by them, and that towards the close of his life they erected a bronze statue in his honor. In short, he was the best monarch Portugal could boast since the days of Philip I.

Pombal, the famous statesman who in 1756 was made premier and exercised such great influence over the sovereign, King1777-1790 José, deserves the greatest credit for the encouragement of commerce and agriculture. He also displayed unusual vigor in political reforms, amounting to unjustifiable harshness in the minds of many of his contemporaries. Under him the powers of the inquisition were curtailed and the finances of the kingdom strengthened. Shortly after arriving at the state of first minister in the kingdom he caused the banishment from Portugal of all the members of the Society of Jesus, then under taint of connection with an attempt in 1758 to assassinate the king. Until the king’s death, which occurred naturally in 1777, the power of this minister was nearly supreme. But his favor at court, and still more his determined measures for retrenchment and economy in the distribution of the national revenues, made bitter enemies, and these were prompt to act when a new sovereign came to the throne.

By José’s marriage with a daughter of Philip V., king of Spain, four daughters had been born to the monarch. This circumstance was a striking illustration of the mischiefs resulting from the ancient law, which declared that if any princess accepted a foreign husband she forfeited all right to the throne. In the hope of succession, he was, therefore, compelled to provide his eldest daughter Maria with a husband at home; and as a connection with the nobility would have been below his royal dignity, and odious to such houses as were excluded, he married her to his own brother, the infante Dom Pedro. Such connections are, unfortunately, far from rare in the modern history of Portugal. On the death of José some intrigues were used to exclude Maria’s succession, but they were detected, and the chief actors exiled from court.

Maria was the first female sovereign the country possessed. When this princess ascended the throne in 1777 she was in her forty-third year. Her reign extended to the threshold of the nineteenth century and is the opening of a new era; of a new system of policy; of new and unexampled relations—in short, of the French Revolution. The changes produced in the kingdom were astounding, and included the humiliation of subjection by the republicans and the expulsion of the royal family, though the latter triumphantly returned after a war forever memorable in the annals of mankind.

One of the first to feel the effects of a change of rulers was 1790-1799 the minister Pombal, whose good offices to the kingdom were forgotten in indignation at his severity. Pombal was dismissed and eight hundred prisoners were liberated from dungeons to which, without trial, he had condemned them, and it was said that this number was small in proportion to the thousands who had been unjustly imprisoned, in accordance with his zeal for the political safety of the kingdom, and had not lived to regain their freedom. Pombal was banished from court and retired to his own estates. Before his death, in 1782, almost every improvement or reform he had accomplished had been nullified by the new influences at court.

If the abilities of this queen were of no high order, she was actuated by good intentions; and her administration, though feeble, was mainly beneficial. If her foreign policy was imprudent; if she was forced into the Family Compact by her powerful neighbors 1790-1799 of Spain and France; if, through her aunt, the queen-dowager, a treaty of limits was negotiated with the former power prejudicial to her interests, in her internal administration she is entitled to respect. She imitated, with success, the example of her father, in giving a new impulse to arts, manufactures, and commerce, to the administration of justice, and to the reformation of the religious orders. She founded the academy of sciences, and cleared the cloisters of Coimbra from most of the cobwebs which the late king had suffered to remain. A far greater boon was the introduction into the convents of the friars of a compulsory course of education, embracing useful literature, philosophy, and the sciences. The foundation of several charitable institutions—one, in particular, for the education and support of orphans, or of children whose parents were too poor to maintain them—does honor to her memory. She introduced some salutary laws, and among them it is interesting to note one for the abolition of imprisonment for debt.^[38]

After thirteen years’ reign the queen, whose mind had never been strong, began to exhibit manifest proof of incapacity. From that time on, Dom Pedro III. having died in 1786, the eldest surviving son, Dom Joam, afterwards Joam VI., was intrusted with the government. But for some years it was conducted in the name of Queen Maria, nor was the prince declared regent until 1799.

Chapter XIX

EVENTS OF THE CRITICAL ERA TO THE CLOSE OF THE
FIRST CARLIST WAR. 1788-1840
BY THE EDITOR

Historically it would seem that Spain has never been able to direct her resources well, save for very brief and exceptional periods in the country’s annals. Halcyon eras she has had, of course, with an old-time national prestige which was the glory of the Peninsular kingdom, and gave to it that historic and romantic interest which is so delightfully set forth in the pages of Prescott, Motley, and Washington Irving. But after Ferdinand and Isabella the Catholics, Charles V. and Philip II.,—if we except the era of Charles III.,—there came centuries of decrepitude, “with governments of debauchees and thieves, of superstition made darker by the spread of light in the world around it, of boastful impotence and pride in rags.” The torpor and feebleness into which the realm has sunk, together with the violence of its lawless and illiterate people, repeatedly convulsed by dynastic and civil strife, have so suppressed or diverted the nation’s old-time honorable energies that deterioration seems persistently to have set in, with the absence of all healthful civic life and any longings for or aptitude in self-government. With these deteriorations has naturally come a decline in national prestige, with the loss of the nation’s New World colonies, added to the loss of Portugal, which by nature belongs to her, and of her former dominion in the Netherlands. Whether we shall see the coming of a better day for her, with the revival of her old-time power and influence, can be matter merely of a more or less idle speculation.

Within the geographical area of the Peninsula Spain still possesses an extensive and, by nature, a highly-favored dominion; and here still is her hope, if she will but turn from political strifes and domestic discord to the country’s economic improvement, and to some showing of her old-time governmental vigor and efficiency. Her commerce continues, as yet, to be of limited volume, and taxation is burdensome, in order to meet wasteful past expenditures and the interest on her heavy debt, imperfectly met as it is by the revenues, no little part of which is purloined by corrupt officials and never finds its way to the national exchequer. The nation which, in Arab, Moor, and Jew, expelled its most industrious, and in many respects its most skilled artisans, still lingers in the dark shadow of bigotry and superstition, and refuses to keep step with the march elsewhere of political freedom and material advancement. To a people thus keeping out of the great currents of human life and activity, and in the main inhospitable towards liberal ideas, what hope can there be of avoiding political atrophy and the oncoming of national decrepitude? But Spain’s condition is not yet that of the Chinese, though political corruption is about as rampant as it is in the Far East, and self-seeking is as greedy and unblushing. And yet there are many liberal-minded, intelligent, and progressive people in the kingdom, though not always among the trusted men of affairs, for the rogues are too many and too exigent, and the offices are fully filled with them. This was the fundamental cause of the hatred to Spanish rule in her late colonies on this side of the Atlantic, coupled with an extortionate avarice and an insolent haughtiness towards subject-races. In the war with the United States she paid the heavy penalty for these faults, increasing her financial straits and losing her colonial possessions, the ownership of which connected her historically with a proud period of world-mastery, but which had long been a drag and a detriment to her, both morally and economically.

Freed from them, and from those she happily sold to Germany, Spain is now in a position to recover her political and economic health, and to turn her attention to the rich inheritance she possesses in the Peninsula of Southern Europe, which admittedly is most inadequately and indifferently developed. For the ancient kingdom one epoch now has closed and a new one opened. Though sentimentally the nation may sigh for her old colonial domain and recall with fond regret the era of the great maritime supremacy which gilds her annals, she will do well to look hopefully on the new day that has dawned for her and take heart of grace for the tasks that lie invitingly before her. In the Iberian peninsula—almost all that is now left to her of her once mighty dominion—she has, if she will see it, not only the fair and ample home of the race, 1788-1792 but a field of richest promise for the industry and enterprise of her sons. Shorn of her colonies, she may well now lay aside the ambitions as well as the entanglements of empire and turn to the practical, if prosaic, duty of cultivating the long-neglected native soil.

Turning back to the Spain of Charles III.’s era, or rather to its close in 1788, the story presented by the country’s annals is a checkered one, and in parts discreditable to the nation, ruled at times as it has been by imbecile monarchs and unscrupulous, self-seeking ministerial favorites and interrupted by frequent and distracting periods of revolutionary upheaval. At the outset we have to deal with a perturbed and harassing era—the critical one in which Spain found herself disastrously compromised in her relations with and in her wavering attitude towards Bonaparte, the arch-disturber of Europe. On the death of Charles III., the mutterings of the coming storm that was to shake empires and throw Europe for years into confusion were already heard on the hither side of the Pyrenees. While Charles III. still lived, he and his capable minister, Florida Blanca, were astute enough to keep the country from entangling alliances, sure to bring trouble to a Bourbon throne, in a European situation that boded ill to every nation of note, in view of the revolutionary upheaval in France and the aggrandizing menace of the coming “Man of Destiny.” Unfortunately for Spain, the good king died (December 14, 1788), and his successor, Charles IV., was unworthy to wield the scepter of his great father. With the accession of the new monarch came a change in the office of the chief minister, the post being filled a year or two afterwards by a contemptible favorite of Charles IV.’s queen, who brought dishonor to the court and dragged his country in the dirt in his intrigues with Napoleon. This unscrupulous grandee whom the court shamelessly trusted and honored was Don Manuel de Godoy, a member of a noble but reduced family, whose influence, coupled with his own good looks and gay manners, had secured him the appointment of an officer of the royal bodyguard at Madrid. From this post, through the influence of the queen, Godoy rose to be first secretary of state, and afterwards duke of Alcudia, the queen, Maria Louisa, not only loading him with honors, but living in the most scandalous relations with him under the very eyes of her infatuated, unkingly husband. Into such unworthy hands did the administration of Spanish affairs fall during 1792-1795 one of the most critical eras in the history of the nation. What wonder that in the ferment which was to arise, in consequence of Napoleonic ambition and unscrupulousness, the degradation of the country ensued, due to the intrigues of this debauched ministerial traitor and the rival opposition and caballing of the heir-apparent, the unfilial and hardly less scrupulous Ferdinand, who afterwards came to the throne as the seventh of his name!

By the outbreak of the Revolution, followed by the flight of Louis XVI. to Varennes, the storming of the Tuileries, the September (1792) massacres, and the proclamation of the republic, Spain was greatly alarmed, and so disturbed over the impending fate of the king that she sent a communication to the French National Convention asking that he and his be considerately dealt with. To this interposition the convention paid no heed; and when the French king was beheaded an outburst of horror and indignation came from every part of Spain, with appeals to Charles IV.’s administration for vengeance on the regicides. Although the court went into mourning for the hapless Louis, nothing was done in response to this appeal or to the desire of the nation, either in the way of restoring the Bourbon dynasty in France, or even in utilizing what military force the country nominally possessed to visit upon the republic a sense of Spain’s horror at its hideous misdeed. This criminal remissness on the part of the Spanish authorities shows the extent of the paralysis which had fallen upon the crown and the ministry, and revealed also the weakness and unpreparedness of the military administration, which, while it had at its command any number of bemedaled generals and dissipated superior officers, had no army worth speaking of, and no money in the country’s coffers to pay and maintain one.

Spain’s revulsion of feeling against the French republic for putting to death Louis XVI. and his consort, Marie Antoinette, and her espousing with Britain, Austria, and Prussia the monarchical cause, brought upon the Spanish Peninsula the horrors of war, and the invasion of large bodies of French troops. The campaign of 1794 went against Spain, and Godoy, ever averse to war, hastened to make peace. This was obtained (July, 1795) by the treaty of Basel, which cost Spain, besides a money indemnity to the republic, the loss of the Spanish portion of Santo Domingo. It moreover made Spain a practical vassal of France, through the relations of Godoy, “the Prince of Peace,” with the French minister at Madrid. 1795-1803 In the following year Spanish alliance with the Dutch brought on Spain a war with England, in which she suffered a further despoilment of her colonial possessions and the practical annihilation of her commerce with the West Indies. While at war with England, France besought Spain to invade Portugal; but to this Godoy was averse, and Truguet, the French admiral and ambassador, brought pressure to bear upon Charles IV. and his queen to dismiss him from his post, supplemented by the clamors of the influential people of Madrid, who by this time bitterly hated and mistrusted the minister. In the midst of these internal dissensions, England swept the remainder of the Spanish marine from the high seas, and in the battle of Cape St. Vincent captured or destroyed a large portion of her fleet, taking from her also the West Indian island of Trinidad.

Meanwhile Bonaparte, after his first campaign in Italy, had gone to Egypt. There he had won the battle of the Pyramids, besides capturing Alexandria and Cairo, and although the French fleet was practically destroyed at the battle of the Nile, he had returned to France (October, 1799), and there, setting aside the directory, he seized power as first consul and established under the consulate an absolute government. His strong rule put an end to the disorders of the Revolution, but his mastery of European affairs brought with it new complications. His assumption, later on, of the title of emperor gave play to his soaring ambitions, although after the treaty of Lunéville, which confirmed that with Austria at Campo-Formio, he accorded Europe a brief period of peace. England after the rupture of the peace of Amiens was the first to again engage in war, and against her Napoleon massed troops at Boulogne, with the design of invading the British Isles. He at the same time set on foot a project for the invasion of Portugal and called on the services of the Spanish fleet to aid him in his contemplated operations against England. To enable him to pursue his designs, he caused Godoy to be restored to the prime ministership at Madrid, and cajoled him, in opposition to the Spanish court, into marching with the forces of Spain into Portugal, in the vain hope of being placed at the head of that kingdom. This undertaking of Godoy was inglorious and futile, for neither he nor his command ever met the Portuguese in battle, but the country was overrun by French troops and in part dismembered. Spain for the next few years remained neutral in her vassalage to France, to which power 1803-1806 she had ceded Louisiana, though under restrictions as to its future disposal by France. To this restriction, Napoleon, however, paid no heed, in his then great need of money, for he almost immediately transferred the territory to the United States, while he quietly pocketed the price the American republic had paid for it.

After 1803, when war was declared by England, there was increasing friction with Spain, in consequence of her still coöperating with France and supplying her with contraband of war. This brought upon the Spanish fleet the attention of the British navy, under Nelson, to which Spain retorted by a declaration of war in December, 1804, and by instructing her fleet to join that of France, at the time in the harbor of Toulon. Eluding the vigilance of Nelson, the French squadron stole out of Toulon and joining the Spanish ships they together set out for the West Indies with the hope of drawing Nelson away from British waters. Succeeding in this ruse, the French admiral then stole back with a squadron, but was met off Cape Finisterre by some British ships of the line, which in an engagement that took place so crippled his fleet that it was obliged to seek Cadiz for repairs. Nelson had by this time returned; and in October, 1805, encountering the combined French and Spanish fleet in Trafalgar Bay, near the Straits of Gibraltar, he bore down upon the allies and vanquished them. In the engagement the famous English admiral lost his life, but saved his country from invasion and made Britain again supreme on her natural element. Although beaten at sea, the French, owing to Napoleon’s marvelous generalship, continued supreme on land. Marching his “Grand Army” in 1805 into Austria, Napoleon compelled the surrender of 30,000 Austrians at Ulm, and entered Vienna. Proceeding thence into Moravia, he reached the crown of his successes in a victory over the Russians and Austrians at Austerlitz; and the next year he crushed Prussia at Jena. From the Prussian capital he then issued his famous Berlin decrees, declaring the British Islands to be in a state of blockade, and ordering the ports of Europe to be closed against their commerce. Britain replied to this act by forbidding any neutral power to trade with France or her allies. The effect of these war measures was injurious to English commerce, and some years afterwards led to further trouble and to war with the United States.

While these events were happening the period was marked by continued internal dissension in Spain, owing to the intrigues of 1806-1807 Spain’s heir-apparent, Ferdinand, prince of the Asturias, to force his parents from the Spanish throne, instigated thereto by De Beauharnais, the French ambassador at the time at Madrid, who was related by marriage to the Empress Josephine. Ferdinand was also gravely incensed against Godoy, the queen’s scheming favorite, who, for his own ends, was playing fast and loose with his country’s interests, and who, like Ferdinand, was also paying obsequious homage to Napoleon. Godoy, on his part, had no love for Ferdinand, owing to the growing admiration of the Spanish people for the prince, and to their looking to him to deliver the nation from the wiles of Godoy and from the weak subservience to France of Charles and his queen. At the instigation of Godoy, who, as ever, was playing to his own hand, Charles IV. placed his son Ferdinand under arrest, and seized his papers, which disclosed his secret correspondence with the French emperor. The king released Ferdinand only after extorting from him, aided by the craft of the queen and Godoy, a full confession of his designs and caballings, including, under threat, a trumped-up charge, of which he was guiltless, of harboring the project of making away by murder with his father and mother. These intrigues on Godoy’s part were but schemes to ingratiate himself with Napoleon and served as an excuse for the latter’s action in sending an army into Spain under Murat, with the ulterior object of dethroning the king and queen, putting aside their alienated and hated son, the heir-apparent, and then placing the crown of Spain on the head of some member of the Napoleonic family.

But before dealing more in detail with these incidents in Spain’s humiliating annals, it is necessary to return to Napoleon for a moment, follow briefly his actions in Europe, and see how he came finally to the close of his career.

The Berlin decrees were supplemented in the following year, 1807, by the Milan decree, declaring all British ports throughout the world under blockade. Napoleon had, moreover, just returned from subscribing to the Peace of Tilsit, on the river Niemen, with Czar Alexander of Russia and Frederick William III. of Prussia. He had also just gained Denmark as an ally and induced her to declare war against his arch-enemy, Britain. Not satisfied with his successes on the military fields of Europe or with playing the part of dictator to its rulers, he now began to set up and pull down kings, as his humor or his ambition prompted him. His brother 1807-1815 Joseph he put on the throne of Naples, and another brother, Louis, he made king of Holland. Presently he cast covetous eyes, as has been said, on the crown of Spain, and, deposing Charles IV., he transferred Joseph from Naples to Madrid. But the Spaniards rose in arms and after a time drove Joseph out, and then called on Britain to help them to restrain Napoleon’s aggressions. England replied by sending an army into Portugal, under Sir Arthur Wellesley, who had distinguished himself in India, and who presently won the rank and title of Viscount Wellington. This great soldier began his successes in the Peninsular war by defeating the French at Vimeiro, in August, 1808. For a time his operations were interfered with by the timidity of Spain and by the lukewarmness of the English ministry, which cost Sir John Moore his life in the famous engagement at Corunna. But in the following year Wellington was able to march into Spain and win the battle of Talavera, inflicting great loss upon the French, though he was compelled to withdraw again to Portugal. Here he won the battle of Busaco, and entrenching himself behind the lines of Torres Vedras, near Lisbon, he defied the French general, Masséna, with his 80,000 veterans. The next year, the British, issuing from Torres Vedras, won in rapid succession Barossa, Fuentes de Oñoro, and Albuera. In 1812 Wellington pursued his victorious career by capturing the two border fortresses of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz, and by inflicting a ruinous defeat on Marshal Marmont at Salamanca. The next two years shed additional luster on the British arms, for at Vittoria Wellington scattered the French under King Joseph of Spain and Marshal Jourdan, and overthrew Soult and his forces at Toulouse. By these victories the French were driven across the Pyrenees, and the campaign in the Spanish Peninsula was brought to a close. Napoleon had meanwhile undertaken his disastrous expedition into Russia, and had led a new army into Germany, where he met with a crushing defeat at Leipsic. From Saxony he fled back to France, with the allied forces of Russia, Austria, and Prussia at his heels. Entering Paris, in 1814, the allies compelled Napoleon to abdicate, and retire to the island of Elba.

Early in the year 1815 Europe’s dream of peace was rudely disturbed by Napoleon’s return to France, the dethroned emperor having escaped from Elba. Once more he was at the head of his army, and the great powers instantly allied themselves to crush him. Wellington with an English army entered Belgium and 1815 sought to effect a junction with the Prussians under Blücher. Napoleon, divining Wellington’s purpose, dispatched half of his army, under Marshal Ney, to attack the British, while he himself attacked the Prussians and beat them at Ligny. On the day on which this battle was fought, Wellington met the French at Quatre Bras, and though Ney strove for hours to force his position, the attacks were gallantly repulsed. The English then fell back to Waterloo, and with their Hanoverian and Belgian allies waited for the Prussians to come up. Here, on Sunday, June 18, 1815, was fought the decisive battle of the campaign. The opposing forces were numerically well matched, each side having on the field from 70,000 to 80,000 men. After a stubborn, all-day contest, the French were defeated, with a total loss of nearly 40,000 men, while the loss of the allies reached 30,000. Napoleon escaped from the field, but a few weeks later he surrendered himself to the British, when he was banished to the island of St. Helena. He died six years later, and Europe for many years thereafter enjoyed almost uninterrupted peace.

Spain had been closely entangled in the web of Napoleon’s ambitious designs. At Madrid, Bonaparte’s brother, Joseph, had been taken, in 1808, from his clement rule in Naples and placed on the throne of Spain as king, or rather viceroy, under the French emperor. Charles IV. and his queen had been forced to abdicate, while Ferdinand’s claim to the throne was roughly set aside. The capital was full of French troops under Murat, and Joseph, though reluctant to accept the Spanish crown, was encouraged to do so by the then friendly attitude of the Spanish Junta and by the sympathies of many of the Spanish people, at that period favorable to the French, in the hope of getting rid of the obnoxious rule of Godoy. The mass of the Spanish people were, however, sullen and patriotically averse to the French, disliking foreigners, and hating to see their beloved land overrun and dominated by French troops, whom, in stealthy guerrilla fashion, they shot down, mutilated, and massacred whenever opportunity offered. Madrid was at the time in a state of combustion, although Joseph sought to placate the people with promises of good government, the summoning of the Cortes, and the assurance that he would maintain the integrity of the kingdom and resist dismemberment, particularly of the northern provinces. Later in the year (1808), Napoleon himself with an army appeared at Madrid, for Joseph’s heart had failed 1808-1814 him at the appearance of things at the capital, and he had left it within a week of his entry into it. Napoleon’s coming was partly to examine for himself the actual situation in Spain, and partly from concern at the critical position of Junot in Portugal, who was hard beset by Wellington intent on driving the French out of the country. Joseph then returned to Madrid, and was induced, though with continued misgiving, to resume the Spanish crown and begin to organize an administration. This he found was difficult to do in the impoverished financial condition of the kingdom, and in the absence of any real power over a turbulent and partly disaffected people save what was lent to him by the armies of the emperor. In truth, Joseph was king only in name and by the grace and command of his brother, to whom at this time he wrote pathetic letters recounting the difficulties of his position, and modestly declaring doubt as to his ability to contend with them or to win the Spanish people over to him, even by his accustomed complacency and kindness.

Nor did the situation brighten for Spain, King Joseph, or Napoleon, while war was going on in Portugal, where Wellington beat the French successively under Soult, Masséna, and Marmont, and after the victory at Salamanca entered Madrid in August, 1812. Still more inauspicious was the prospect of Joseph’s permanent rule in Spain when the emperor had undertaken his campaign in Russia, and then by his delay and the severity of the winter had lost his “Grand Army.” At length Joseph’s position became insupportable, after the emperor had commanded him to take the field in person at the head of Spain’s troops in alliance with those of France. At the battle of Vittoria (June, 1813) his troops were routed, and those of France gave way before Wellington. The king fled from the field and took refuge across the French frontier in St. Jean de Luz, later on finding his way to Paris. Meanwhile Spain, under its provisional government, was lost to France, whose emperor, having abdicated, had been sent to Elba by the powers allied against him; while Ferdinand, liberated from durance at Valençay, was restored to his rights on the throne of the kingdom, May, 1814.

The restoration of Ferdinand was an unhappy result for Spain, for he had learned nothing, and at once abolished the Cortes, set aside the constitution of 1812, re-established the Inquisition, set up a despotic government, and refused to coöperate with the British in expelling the remaining French troops from the kingdom. 1808-1809 Insurrectionary risings broke out in various sections of the country, while it is computed that ten thousand people fled into France to escape imprisonment by the reactionary, absolutist government which the king had installed, consisting of the most worthless and incapable of his courtiers. Among but few of the people did liberal, progressive opinions prevail, and these were either harshly treated or expelled from the country, while patriots were driven into the mountainous regions to become bandits. Had Ferdinand brought to his councils wise ministers instead of the despotic ideas of his family, the wretched condition of Spain after his accession might have been averted, and some advance made towards progress and an enlightened freedom under constitutional rule. But the masses were as yet little accustomed to any enlightened political life, having been so long under bondage to the despotism of their inherited rulers. Ferdinand was not only incapable, but possessed a narrow, reactionary, and illiberal mind.

The Spanish peasant, however, could fight valorously and stubbornly when resolutely led. In the two famous sieges of Saragossa, in 1808-1809, the fortress city had been nobly defended by Don Joseph Palafox against 35,000 French besiegers under Marshals Moncey and Mortier, and later under Junot and the invincible Marshal Lannes, duke of Montebello. The second siege is renowned in history, the defense by the Spanish soldiers, guerrillas, and citizens, including even priests and women, “crowning with everlasting glory the Spanish War of Independence.” In the city had gathered for its defense, besides 20,000 citizens and fugitive peasants, about 30,000 soldiers, with some 3,000 artillerymen and sappers; while the public magazines were provisioned with six months’ material and supplies, besides stores in the possession of private citizens and the conventual communities. “The citizens,” writes Napier in his “History of the Peninsular War,” “gave up their goods, their houses, and their bodies to the war, and, mingling with the peasants and soldiers, formed one mighty garrison suited to the vast fortress they had formed. For doors and windows were built up, housefronts loop-holed, internal communications opened, streets trenched and crossed by earthen ramparts mounted with cannon, and every strong building was a separate fortification; there was no weak point—there could be none in a city which was all fortress, where the space covered by houses was the measure of the ramparts.”

The notable siege began at the close of the year 1808, after the French had dug their trenches, mounted their cannon, and put in1808-1809 position their siege train. Saragossa was summoned to surrender, but the brave Palafox proudly rejoined: “If Madrid has surrendered, Madrid has been sold: Saragossa will neither be sold nor surrendered!” Hearing this spirited answer, the French resolutely pressed the siege, soon bringing the walls to the ground and crumbling the ramparts by the fire of their heavy guns. Their frequent rushes on weak spots were most gallantly repulsed, each house having been barricaded by strong defenses, manned by stout hearts and arms. Soon mining was resorted to by the besiegers, and portions of the city were blown up. In the narrow and crowded limits, pestilence broke out and from 400 to 500 died daily, their bodies lying unburied, thus adding the scourge of disease and famine. Assault after assault took place, but terms of capitulation were scornfully refused, until further resistance became impossible. Even then conditions were strictly defined by the besieged, but were ill-observed by the French victors. A like valor was shown by the Spanish in Aragon, at the siege of Gerona, where the defenders held out amid famine, slaughter, and pestilence to the last extremity. Their fighting powers were, however, mainly shown in defense, and, when they happened to be bravely and inspiringly led, which was not often, as their generals were incompetent and jealous of each other, and consequently little good in initiating large and important movements or in devising and conducting offensive operations. The Spaniards, moreover, have always been difficult to arouse from their constitutional inertness, while their nobles seem invariably to be living in “castles of indolence.” Though their pride was and ever remains great, often absurdly so, sectional jealousy—Castilians against Catalans, and Andalusians against the people of Granada and the Basque provinces—frequently prevents national feeling from showing itself effectively in great crises; while despotic rule in the crown or in governments and juntas keeps the people in a state of characteristic physical lassitude and mental enslavement.

With the restored house of Bourbon, in 1814, in the person of Ferdinand VII., Spain, now free from the usurpation of Joseph Bonaparte and French affiliations, resumed her old somnolent way until civil war came in 1820, when France, having recovered from the era of convulsion under the republic and the Napoleonic empire, 1814-1823 once more interposed (1823) in the affairs of the Peninsula, through the intermediary of the Holy Alliance. In the interval not much of import happened in the kingdom; while it remained free from the machinations of Charles IV., his queen, and her lover Godoy, all of whom had become residents of France, living there on the proceeds of the bargain and sale Napoleon had corruptly made with them. The constitution of 1812 had been annulled and the Inquisition again established. The prisons were filled with political offenders, including many of the more obnoxious of the late deputies of the Cortes. Thousands of liberal-minded citizens of the chief towns, with large numbers of the intelligent classes from various sections in the country, fled across the frontiers of the kingdom. Only the submissive peasantry and the favored creatures of the king were to be found among Ferdinand’s supporters. Nor under him did the national revenues in any measure thrive, for anarchy was rife in the Spanish-American colonies, their trade crippled and no wealth came from that quarter. The navy, moreover, had been disastrously reduced in the War of Independence, and many of Spain’s merchant ships had been captured by pirates, then infesting the high seas. The national troops were disaffected and mutinous, in consequence of the finances being in such utter confusion. The result of these conditions in the nation was to revive insurrections, headed by guerrilla leaders, and even the responsible classes and educated citizens ere long took part and clamored for some approach to constitutional government, and the convening of the Cortes.

Only the imminent peril in which Spain found herself at this period, with a new and menacing revolt among the troops at Cadiz, brought Ferdinand in a measure to his senses. But before mutiny broke out at Cadiz the king had a taste of trouble elsewhere in his dominions. Besides general unrest over the whole country and disaffection arising from unconstitutional rule, there was an insurrection in Catalonia, and another rising in Valencia, both of which conspiracies were suppressed with cruel severity. But the chief trouble was among a portion of the disaffected army stationed on the Isle de Leon, near Cadiz, where troops had been assembled to set out for Central and South America, to repress civil strife in the colonies and trading ports on the other side of the Atlantic. To this expedition many of the troops demurred, owing to fear of disease from the malarious foreign climate, but chiefly because favored 1814-1823 officers obnoxious to the soldiery had been placed over them. The Cadiz merchants also looked coldly upon the expedition, as they deemed it likely to interfere with commerce and the maritime trade, and took umbrage against the administration for ordering its departure; while their protest against its going added to the general clamor now manifesting itself for a change in the king’s advisers and for the assembling of the Cortes, or national legislature. The insurrectionary mood of the troops adverse to the dreaded South American expedition was shortly after this sharply dealt with by General O’Donnell, an officer of Irish descent who, with his notable brother, was then serving in the Spanish army, and had received marks of high favor from the court, with the rank and title of Count d’Abisbal. This general officer, by a ruse, learned who were the ringleaders among the officers of the regiments ordered abroad, and who had demurred to the dispatch of the expedition. These he peremptorily placed under arrest, while he compelled 3,000 of the troops to embark, and the remainder of the mutinous garrison he dispersed among various other provinces of the kingdom. To add to the excitement at Cadiz and to the depression of the citizens at this time, a severe epidemic of yellow fever broke out in the city, which decimated many thousands of the population.

During the disturbance among the troops at Cadiz there were signs of more extended disaffection throughout the whole army, though its source and center was Cadiz, instigated by sympathy with the movement in the camp close by the city adverse to the denationalized government and its unpopular administration. This sympathetic movement practically showed itself (1820) in the sturdy, patriotic attitude of a soldier-leader, who had served against Napoleon, and who presently won for himself an honored name in the history and song of his country. This was General Rafael del Riego y Nunez, of Oviedo, who took a prominent part in the revolution in southern Spain against the reactionary government, became for a time president of the Cortes, and, when, in 1823, the French again interposed in Spanish affairs, was taken prisoner and executed as a traitor at Madrid. His regiment was one of those in the Isle de Leon that had been ordered to South America, but had refused to be sent. Associated with him were other fellow-patriots, among them General Quiroga, and the eloquent civilian Galiano, who together revived and publicly proclaimed the ignored constitution of 1812; and, placing themselves at the head of a body of 1814-1823 insurgents, marched through Andalusia, captured several of the crown’s loyal general officers, and roused the people to demand a more worthy and enlightened national government. The outbreak, which at once became general over the country, ere long developed into civil war, instigating even a rising in Madrid, where vociferous crowds demanded governmental reforms, and set up in public places what we would call “Trees of Liberty,” emblems in Spain of the lapida (or pillar) of the constitution.

Though the authorities at Madrid sought to check and harshly repress the reform movement, the insurrectionary ferment continued to spread, and as it gathered strength it was joined in by other noted Spanish insurgents, among whom was the guerrilla chieftain, Francisco Mina, who had fought against the French in 1808-1810, and was actively hostile to King Ferdinand and his creatures in power. The movement even received the countenance and support of the O’Donnells, who had been high in favor at court. They now took actively the revolutionary side, and though one of the brothers had been sent from Madrid to suppress the rising in Galicia, both now proclaimed the constitution and erected provisional governments in Galicia and Castile. At last, thoroughly alarmed for his own safety and the preservation of his crown, Ferdinand yielded to pressure and promised to accept the constitution, which had long been held in abeyance, and to convoke the Cortes. In the public square at the capital this turn of affairs was announced, amid the shouts and rejoicing of the people; while the magistrates, together with the grandees at the court, all joined in accepting the promised new order of things and also gave their adherence to the constitution.

The Cortes was summoned for July, 1820, while the election of deputies forthwith proceeded, and a change in the king’s ministers took place. So far, General Riego’s leadership of the insurrectionary movement proved favorable to a new order of things, though rioting and disturbances still prevailed, and in the capital the king’s palace was attacked by a mob. When the Cortes assembled, many good measures were projected and some of them passed, but others of an objectionable character were proposed, under pressure of the reactionary section in the house, influenced by the obsequious adherents of the court party, who were determinedly opposed to remedial legislation and to the liberalizing tendencies manifesting themselves in the Cortes as well as throughout the country. 1814-1823 The parties, though mixed as well as antagonistic within the house, on the whole worked fairly well together, thanks to the “moderates,” who, welcoming the change that had come about in the state, and trusting unwarrantably the unworthy and vacillating monarch, whose address at the opening of the Cortes was a thoroughly hypocritical one, hoped for improved relations between the crown and the people, in spite of the attitude of the church and the enslaved, illiterate peasantry. The Cortes, nevertheless, caused the Inquisition once more to be abolished and the convents to be closed, even going so far as to seize the tithes of the secular clergy and appropriate them to the necessities of the state.

The more favorable aspect of affairs remained, however, only for a brief while, for the civil disturbances, which had spread far and wide, still continued, and with the rioting that ensued dreadful atrocities were committed on both sides. This, in large measure, was due to the general lawless character of the peasantry, who were made to feel the wrongs done to the church, in the decree of the Cortes despoiling the religious houses of their treasure and revenues for the needs of the state, and who thus showed, by their truculent turbulence, their protest against the clerical wealth being diverted to the narrow channels of the national purse. Nor were affairs less ominous in the capital, where the king had shut himself up in the Escorial, after unconstitutionally appointing a creature of his own captain-general of New Castle and seeking to restore some of his former ministers and servile advisers. In the upheaval, socialism made strides, and secret societies, adopting the anarchic principles of Robespierreism, came into malign activity and disseminated the extreme doctrines of the Terror in France. In the provinces, on the other hand, the people were held in considerable restraint by the discreet patriots, Generals Riego and Francisco Mina, the former of whom was made captain-general of Aragon, and the latter held a similar command in Navarre.

The web of Spain’s misfortunes continued meanwhile to be spun by the king, who, losing what little sense he had, and shutting himself within his palace, with all his venality, barrenness of heart, and brutish, heedless nature, was now becoming enervated by his excesses. His dynasty seemed about to come to a miserable close. But before this happened, and ere the nation saw the army of France, at the bidding of the monarchical members of the Holy Alliance, and in defiance of the protest of England, once more on 1823-1824 the soil of Spain to overawe its people and be present at the birth of a new régime, Ferdinand VII., relieved for the time of the control of the Cortes, which had dispersed, appointed General Morillo to quell disturbance at Madrid. This he did vigorously, with a trusted body of royalist troops, and even gave orders to the authorities at Saragossa to arrest the popular Riego, an act which rendered his suppression of disorder in the capital more difficult, as Riego was there, as well as elsewhere in Spain, deemed both a patriot and a hero. The result of the continued trouble and of the threatening attitude of France, whose troops were now being massed on the frontier for the purpose of again invading the Peninsula, was the summoning of an emergency session of the Cortes. The times were now such that no calm legislation could be attempted, and though Riego, having been conditionally released from imprisonment, was at this juncture elected to the presidency of the body, little could be done to calm the excitement within and without the Cortes. Amid the warring elements the king, failing in his attempt to get rid of his liberal ministers, abandoned the capital for Seville, and a state of chaos threatened to ensue.

Meanwhile, the duke of Angoulême and his troops crossed the Bidassoa, April 7, 1823, and though opposed for a time by General Mina in Catalonia, entered the country, and with the assistance of O’Donnell, who had again turned his coat, marched upon Madrid. Here a regency was instituted until, as the French said, the king could be liberated from his quasi-captivity at Seville. The duke of Angoulême returned to France, leaving 40,000 French soldiers in the capital. Ferdinand, who at Seville had been practically deposed by the Cortes that had followed him thither, was released, and arrests and imprisonments followed, as many as 40,000 Constitutionalists, it is historically stated, being thrown into confinement. A new minister, however, M. Bermudez, was named, who sought to placate parties and rule with moderation. A dire mishap, at which we have heretofore hinted, now occurred, in the bringing of the patriot Riego to trial, and though unconvicted, for no prosecuting counsel could be got to act against him, he was ignominiously executed in November, 1823, at the capital.

In May, 1824, a so-called general amnesty was published, but the classes exempt from its clemency were so numerous, particularly those who had opposed the king and his absolutist proclivities, that it was a practical nullity. It only intensified the still smoldering 1824-1832 disaffection of the nation, or at least that part of it which expected an improved administration, with the cessation of disorder and strife, in the new aspect of things. There was hence no hope for the constitutional party, or what remained of it after the execution, escape, or deportation of the mass of its members. The Jesuits were meanwhile recalled, although Ferdinand did not dare to re-establish the Inquisition; but the “Army of Faith,” under obedient royalist generals, continued in many provinces to do the murderous bidding of the commander-in-chief and the new administration, “more royalist than the king,” which Ferdinand VII., with the approval of the French, had called to the service of the state. The revolution of 1830 in France kept agitation alive throughout the Peninsula. Risings and raids became once more general, together with a revolt in Catalonia, with the design of raising Don Carlos, brother of Ferdinand and heir presumptive, to the throne. The clamor for Don Carlos was due not only to the fact that, in the absence of any direct male heir to Ferdinand, he was the legitimate successor to the crown, but also to the fact that he was popular throughout Spain. Ferdinand, once more a widower, desired to marry again, and this, in 1830, he proceeded to do, espousing as his fourth wife the Princess Maria Christina, of Naples. On this new alliance taking place, abrogation of the Salic law, through the pragmatic sanction, was enacted, and this set aside the claim of Don Carlos to succeed his brother on the latter s decease, in favor of an expected heir by Maria Christina, should the child prove to be of the female sex. Thus it was that when on October 10, 1830, the infanta Isabella Louisa was born, the child was recognized as Ferdinand’s successor under the regency of the queen-mother.

After the king’s latest matrimonial alliance he visibly failed and lost interest in everything. His queen, however, graciously cared for him, and yet took the precaution, in moments of the monarch’s lucidity, to insist that whatever rights of succession Don Carlos laid claim to, and was sustained in by the crown’s subjects, they should not invalidate those of her infant daughter. In her anxiety on this point, she even made personal overtures to Don Carlos, proposing to make him co-regent on her husband’s death; but this the young man declined, rather than bar his own legitimate and well-recognized right of succession, or that of his sons, to the throne of the kingdom. The king meanwhile fell into a state of imbecility, though his careful spouse scrupulously exercised for him most of 1832-1836 the functions of royalty, until September 29, 1833, when the end came, and Ferdinand VII. closed his earthly career in what for some time had been but a living death.

Immediately there was a Carlist rising, with the avowed purpose of placing the late king’s brother on the throne. The clerical or, as it was called, the apostolic party, to which the claimant was allied, was especially strong in Navarre, the Basque provinces and the north, and at once proclaimed Don Carlos king, with the title of Charles V. The contention against Maria Christina as regent thus set civil war once more aflame in Spain, and created the parties, Carlists and Christinos, which with their respective adherents, Catholics and Liberals, kept the kingdom for the next seven years in an acute condition of rebellion. At the outset the Carlists met with many and decided successes, owing to the military skill of the general Zumalacárregui, whom Don Carlos and his nephew, Don Miguel, were fortunate enough to enlist in their cause. On the other hand, the regent Christina had the advantage of being at the seat of government, where she had called a regency council to her aid, and which, of course, favored the infant child of Ferdinand and the constitutional régime against the Carlists, and did what was in its power to sustain the throne against the pretender and his supporters. In April, 1834, Christina gained the advantage of foreign sympathy in her straits, in the Quadruple Alliance of that year, which secured to Spain the moral support as well as the diplomatic services of England, France, and Portugal. The immediate effect of this was the expulsion of Don Carlos from Portugal and his flight to England, as well as a withdrawal from the conflict of Don Miguel. The return of Don Carlos to Spain, appearing suddenly in Navarre to inspire his followers, for a time improved his fortunes; but after the siege of Bilbao, where the Carlist general, Zumalacárregui, met his death (June, 1835), the Carlist faction became despondent, and the Christinos were elated. The royalist success at Bilbao encouraged the queen-regent’s army to increased vigor in the war. Shortly afterwards General Espartero was given command of the royalist troops and again defeated the Carlists in a sanguinary encounter at Luchana. In spite of losses, and a disunion in the Carlist camp, Don Carlos marched with the forces of Cabrera towards Madrid, but was quickly followed by Espartero and his command, and was compelled to abandon any attack on the capital.

The war dragged feebly on the side of Charles V., Espartero inflicting, in 1837-1838, several heavy losses on the Carlists,1836-1840 now under Guergué, the new commander-in-chief, shortly afterwards supplanted by the ruthless and cunning Moroto. The latter, having repeatedly been overmatched by Espartero, now basely went over with his army to the royalist side, and by the capitulation-convention at Vergara (August, 1839) secured his own safety, and with an amnesty for his troops, got from the Christina government a provisional appointment in Navarre, with oversight of the Basque provinces. In the defection of the intriguer, Moroto, the cause of the apostolic party, which had backed the Carlist side, suffered a heavy blow; while it also suffered from rivalry and intrigues among its general officers, the quarrels among whom the infatuated Don Carlos, with his papal following, was incapable of repressing. But for this internal dissension which paralyzed his arms, Carlos might have forced his way into Madrid, and, as Charles V., possibly won the crown by deposing the queen-regent and her mediocre government. The traitorous surrender at Vergara (sometimes called Bergara) and the treaty between Moroto and Espartero were stunning blows, and for the time proved fatal to the Carlist cause. Its immediate effect was disastrous upon its chief, and temporarily brought strife to a close. When confronted with the situation, the pretender, in September, 1839, weakly abandoned the country, and, with a part of his following, withdrew into France. There, under police surveillance, for six years he found an asylum at Bourges, after which he resigned his claim to the Spanish throne to his eldest son, the Duke Montemolin, and with the permission of the French authorities retired into Italy, where, ten years later, he died at Trieste, March 10, 1855. Meanwhile his following in Spain, some 10,000 in number, prosecuted the war in Catalonia for a while, under Cabrera; but meeting only defeat by the royalist Espartero and his forces, they too in July, 1840, fled across the French frontier and were disarmed and dispersed. This brought the first Carlist war to a close.

Chapter XX

LAST YEARS OF MARIA CHRISTINA, AND THE ERA OF
QUEEN ISABELLA II. 1840-1868

After seven years of civil strife Spain’s political as well as her material and social condition was at a low ebb. Fighting the Carlists had caused a heavy drain upon her impoverished resources, while it left the kingdom and its people in a demoralized state, with distraction and dissension still rife. With the regency during these years of havoc it had not gone well; indeed, government on any smooth and effective lines had hardly been possible. There had been tumult in the capital, as well as elsewhere, and rioting had been occasioned no less by political dissension among the parties and the people than by the general turbulence of the times. It had been hard to extort respect for the constitution of 1812 from the queen-regent and her ministers, so the Progressists had enacted in 1837 a new, or rather revised, one, and to this they sought to compel the regent and her advisers to subscribe and conform, though with indifferent results. In the case of Maria Christina politically she proved nothing long, at times swaying from the Liberal to the Ultra-Conservative and Absolutist side, and from both to the side of the Moderates. Like many royal women in Spain, Christina, moreover, had her moments of feminine weakness, bestowing her favor particularly on a young lifeguardsman at court, named Munoz, whom she appointed her chamberlain, and with whom she had scandalous relations, although it is said that there had been a clandestine marriage. This injured her prestige, while it increased the impatience of the people with the constitutional representative under whom they lived, and made them righteously angry at the neglect of important matters of state during so grave a crisis in the affairs of the nation. In the rising indignation against her and her so-called husband, and also weary of the cares and worries of her position in the troublous times of her era, Christina contemplated resigning the regency, and with it her charge of the young Isabella. This design she now speedily 1840-1843 put in execution, and, abdicating her high post, she flitted across the frontier into France October 12, 1840. The princess Isabella, now budding into womanhood, was, with her younger sister, consigned to the protection of the then minister-president, General Espartero, who for his successful war services had been made Duke of Vittoria. Upon him, in the following May, when the newly-elected Cortes had assembled at Madrid, were placed the responsibilities and cares of the state, of which he had now become regent. The post, under the circumstances, was an onerous one, for there still existed considerable ferment in the kingdom, which especially showed itself in Barcelona and in the south, while even the capital was again threatened. Moreover, after Christina had reached France and was in relations with Louis Philippe, political incendiaries began to give Espartero trouble, and he retaliated by seeking an ally in England, which brought about complications at home among those who hastened to accuse him of making a bargain and sale of the commercial interests of the country to Britain. Nor was this all he had to contend against, for the same adverse interests stirred up hostility among his old army rivals, the chief of whom were Generals Narvaez and Prim. In 1843 Narvaez, in the interests of the late regent, landed at Valencia, and at the head of a body of troops marched into the capital; while Prim, in the intrigues of the Progressists, placed himself at the head of his old soldiers in Catalonia who had fought under him against the Carlists, and also threatened to overthrow the new regent. In this sea of trouble, and amid envious and politically hostile enemies in Madrid, Espartero, deeming himself alien and forsaken as well as in peril of his life, withdrew to Cadiz, where in July, 1843, embarked for England, whence he did not return until after the lapse of Ave years. Amid this further storm in the affairs of the unhappy, distracted country, the youthful Isabella was declared by the provisional government of age, although but thirteen, and, asserting her right to the throne, took upon herself the rank and rôle of queen. In assuming her duties she finally appointed Narvaez her prime minister, but only after other experiments had been made, and, creating him Duke of Valencia, recalled her mother to Spain.

The return of the queen-mother was made a matter of state exultation and rejoicings at Madrid; and there rallied to greet her many of the old grandees of the kingdom, with numberless royalist adherents of the crown. With Christina’s return from exile came 1843-1846 her husband, Nunez, now Duke of Rianzares, and the three children (daughters) whom she had borne to him. He at this period formed a rather embarrassing element in the ex-queen’s entourage, and with his wife shared in the Absolutist intrigues of the court. But this personage and his affairs were for a time overshadowed by the high excitement occasioned by the known eagerness of the queen-mother to find suitable husbands for Queen Isabella and her younger sister, Louisa. Christina was known to be easily influenced by her kinsman, Louis Philippe of France, and that king wished Isabella to marry his son, the accomplished Duc d’Aumale, so that he might increase his influence in the south of Europe, and with a son on the throne of Spain make the Mediterranean what he desired, “a French lake.” This assumption of Bourbonism was, however, looked upon coldly by England and the courts of Europe, England insisting that the Cortes should decide, as the Spanish constitution required, whom Isabella should marry; while the Spanish people, racially and politically, were averse to the notion of a French alliance. In addition, it was proposed that Louis Philippe’s second son, the Duc de Montpensier, an unobjectionable choice, should receive the hand of the infanta Louisa, Christina’s second daughter by Ferdinand VII. The English and continental bar to the marriage with Duc d’Aumale led to the casting about for another prospective bridegroom, and among the choice of these were a son of Don Carlos, and Don Francisco d’Assisi, son of Francisco di Paula, of Naples. The latter was finally pitched upon, though Isabella herself greatly disliked him, owing to his undistinguished and even insignificant appearance; but in spite of her aversion and the shedding of many tears, she was compelled to marry him. The dual nuptials took place at the capital October 10, 1846, the occasion being Queen Isabella’s sixteenth birthday. The marriage of Donna Louisa with the Duke of Montpensier turned out happily, though not to the liking of the Spanish people, the groom having to be conducted to Madrid by a strong body of troops, to overawe the nation in its hostility to the French alliance. The queen’s match, cruelly enforced by her designing mother, turned out badly, however, for Isabella loathed Don Francisco d’Assisi, and, child as she was, without any scruples exiled him after marriage to a royal residence at a distance from Madrid.

Well would it have been for the morals of the nation had Queen Isabella contented herself with thus denying her affections 1847-1848 their legitimate gratification. Unfortunately, in the ex-queen she had an influence most hurtful. The result was not long in showing itself, for Isabella, throwing womanly decorum with all discretion to the winds, practically banished etiquette from the court and plunged into the most reckless, and even abandoned, gayety. She openly made love to one of her general officers, Serrano, said to have been at the period the handsomest man in Spain, and when remonstrated with by her ministerial counselors she boldly defied their attempted restraints, and mocked alike their pleadings and their censure. To the administration the scandal of the queen and her court was a grave injury as well as a national menace, for it tended to enhance the feeling of disquietude and insecurity in the country and encouraged renewed plottings among the Carlists, ever eager to embroil the nation in further uprisings. The period was the stormy year of 1848, a distracting one in all Europe, when the virus of revolution was actively at work in many sections of the continent, and had just brought about the dethronement of Louis Philippe, whose downfall withdrew one of the props of the Bourbon throne in Spain. In Austria insurrection drove Ferdinand I. to abdicate in favor of Francis Joseph; and in Prussia the democratic fever incited a rising in Berlin, which compelled Frederick William IV. to grant the kingdom a constitutional government; while Hungary, under the leadership of Louis Kossuth, set up a republic; and Italy, stirred by the eloquence of Mazzini and other patriots, rose on behalf of Italian unity, a movement which put Victor Emmanuel II. on the throne. Even the pope was not left in the quietude and repose of the Vatican, for he was compelled temporarily to seek refuge in Gaeta, while a republic was proclaimed at Rome. In steady-going Britain the fall of the French dynasty and the retreat of Louis Philippe to her shores had their effects, in bringing upon the nation the impotent Chartist agitation and the tumult and conspiracies of the young Ireland party, under Smith O’Brien and his quondam friends. From threatened embroilment in the Don Pacifico matter, and his extravagant claim against the Greek government, Britain also speedily relieved herself, though the effects of the insurrectionary spirit were felt for a considerable time in England, as well as throughout almost the entire European continent.

Over this period of revolutionary chaos within and without the kingdom Isabella II. was fortunate enough to pass for the1847-1854 next score of years, though not without further trouble in Spain, including the revolution of 1854, besides much friction in the machinery of government. For a time Narvaez, who was prime minister when the queen’s marriage took place, strove to administer the interests as well as secure the peace and prosperity of the country. He looked frowningly upon Isabella’s flagrant indiscretions at court with her favorite generals, and endeavored to restrain her decided leanings towards absolutism and the spiritual authority exercised by the church. Meanwhile the son of Don Carlos, Count de Montemolin, inspired by the Carlist general Cabrera, at the time residing in the south of France, sanctioned another blow being struck on behalf of the Charles V. and VI. faction for the crown of Spain. Cabrera crossed the frontier, and, after traversing various sections of the Peninsula in disguise, feeling the insurrectionary pulse of the nation, noting where the Carlist sympathizers were in force, and levying contributions from those in Catalonia, once more collected a force in that province antagonistic to Isabella and her government. The Carlist cause looked for help in France from a friend of the younger Don Carlos. This was his companion in exile, Louis Napoleon, then French president, and at the time about to precipitate the coup d’état of 1851 and restore temporarily the French empire. Neither from Napoleon III. nor the inert Count de Montemolin did Cabrera, however, receive practical support, and, chagrined at the supineness and falling away of his Carlist following, the guerrilla chieftain threw up his command and, recrossing the frontier into France, took refuge in England. In that asylum he married a rich Englishwoman, and, for a while in Italy, Cabrera lived quietly for the remainder of his days. Meanwhile, a new rising, the revolution of 1854, occurred in unhappy Spain.

At this juncture in the affairs of the kingdom Narvaez had been supplanted in the premiership and his place was taken by Sartorius, Count de San Luis. This was unfortunate for Spain, for Narvaez by his influence and energy had been instrumental in instituting reforms at court, and had induced Isabella to recall her husband. In the interval between the downfall of Narvaez and the succession as chief adviser of Sartorius, a number of ephemeral ministries had tried their hand in governing the nation; but against 1847-1854 the reactionary character of Isabella and the intrigues of Christina, the queen-mother, who, with King Don Francisco, were greatly under the clerical influence, a rampant republicanism began to manifest itself throughout the country, with threats of overthrowing the dynasty. The inspirer of this new conspiracy was headed by Marshal O’Donnell, afterwards Duke of Tetuan, who had fought against the Carlists and been of service to Christina when as queen-regent she had been compelled to take refuge in France. Latterly this personage had held a military command in Spain, and previously, for a time, had been captain-general in the disaffected Spanish possession of Cuba. He was now in opposition to the government as a member of the Senate; and when the Progressist General Dulce, who held command in Catalonia, put himself at the head of an insurgent force designed to overthrow the tyrannous government of Isabella, O’Donnell, with Generals Messina and Ros de Olano, joined him in a revolt which speedily assumed such proportions that it threatened Madrid, where it found many enthusiastic anti-royal sympathizers.

While these events were transpiring the queen was at some little distance from the capital, in her residence at the Escorial, and thither news of the rising was brought her by her chief minister, Sartorius. Isabella hastened to Madrid, only to learn of threatening revolts in other chief cities of the kingdom. From the capital she at once dispatched a royalist force under General Blazer to check the approach of the insurgents. At Vicalvaro, a few miles distant from the capital, an encounter with the insurgents was exultantly styled a victory by General Blazer, and in the belief that it was so the queen was waited on by her royalist friends and congratulated on the success of her troops. However, the revolt was a more serious matter for the court and the administration than was at first believed, and spread in many hostile quarters, chiefly in Catalonia, Aragon, and the Basque provinces, while royalist regiments shared in the movement, refused to serve longer under Blazer, and even passed to the insurgent camp. This alarming condition of affairs brought about the resignation of Sartorius and his fellow-ministers, and a new cabinet was named, with General Cordova as president of the council, only to be replaced at once by the appointment of the Duc de Rivas. Meantime, Madrid was given up to rioting, the government departments were entered and sacked by mobs, while the queen was menacingly treated by crowds 1854 of infuriated citizens and troops who broke their way through the royalist guards into the palace, with huzzas for O’Donnell and liberty, denunciations against San Luis, and threats of death “to the thief Christina!” A junta of safety and defense was hastily improvised in the capital, under San Miguel, a brave Spanish general, who assumed its presidency. No ministry was then possible in Madrid, and, affairs continuing to wear an even more menacing attitude, Isabella summoned her old general and statesman, Espartero, from his country home to endeavor to quell the disturbance and give security to the state. In spite of the coming of Espartero and O’Donnell, both now friends and seriously desirous of restoring the kingdom to peace, the capital continued in a turbulent and disaffected mood, which specially showed itself in hatred towards Christina, the queen-mother, as well as towards the queen and her now helpless government. On all sides a disposition was manifested to bring Christina to trial for malign influence at court and her personal thievish propensities. Though Espartero and O’Donnell felt the justice of the popular clamor against Christina, they recognized that it would be impolitic during the excitements of the time to accede to the demand; the minister gave his word that the queen-mother should not escape from Madrid, while he secretly desired for himself that she should be expelled from the kingdom. Torn by conflicting emotions, Espartero finally deemed it better that Christina should be suffered to escape from Spain; and this, towards the end of August (1854), he agreed to, Christina surreptitiously taking flight on the way to Portugal, leaving Espartero and O’Donnell to make their peace with the angry and disappointed Madrid populace.

This lightening of the cargo of royalty from the ship of state was, however, not all that the convulsions of the time were to bring about in Spain. The fraternization of Espartero and O’Donnell continued, the patriotic and Progressist easily falling in his old-time post as president of the council and administrative head of the state. O’Donnell, though he had himself been actively a rebel, became minister of war, and, with his passion for intrigue, aspired to play the rôle of lover to the amorous queen. Meanwhile, the expenses of the nation in suppressing or tiding over these periods of revolution added to the waste that had gone on under previous shiftless administrations, and the national finances were in a deplorable condition. Loans had hitherto been resorted to, but these could 1854-1857 not now be further raised, and the administration had either to admit insolvency, or resort to measures of an illegal or otherwise objectionable nature to raise money. Two propositions were mooted to tide over the economic crisis. One of these was to sell Cuba, whose affairs lately had been going from bad to worse, to the United States; but Spanish pride revolted against this and put it out of consideration. The other proposal was to lay violent hands on the country’s lands held in mortmain, including the personal estates of ex-Queen Christina, and, appropriating them to the crown, make sale of them to replenish the empty exchequer. The latter, under pressure, was the proposition decided upon and authorized by the Cortes, and that, in spite of the fact that the lands were not only unalienable, but, in many instances, were those which had been bequeathed to benevolent institutions, as well as to convents and other clerical establishments. To this measure the queen, to her credit, was earnestly opposed, while it greatly exercised the court that the lands should be thus confiscated and dishonorably disposed of by the state. The arbitrary proceeding naturally created differences between Isabella and her chief minister, which at this time were further complicated by a lack of harmony in the council between the minister of war (O’Donnell) and the minister of the interior (Escosura). The end of the trouble was fatal to all three ministers, whose resignations were presently accepted, and Narvaez was again sent for and installed as head of a new administration. Narvaez’s first act was to comply with Isabella’s entreaty to revoke the mortmain lands decree and restore the escheated property to the clerics, as well as save from sale and spoliation the estates owned by the queen-mother. Though the desperate needs of the nation were not thus provided for, the restitution of the church and other possessions had a quieting and reassuring effect on the nation, and for the time being the Narvaez administration prospered, while there were rejoicings just then over an auspicious event—the birth, in 1857, of a son and heir to the king and queen, in the babe that afterwards became Alfonso XII.

While these events were occurring, new plots were being hatched among the Carlist princes in Paris, incited by two new adherents of the faction. Ortega and Morales, the former of whom, though he had been a leader in the Progressist party in Spain, had fallen into the wiles of ex-Queen Christina, now in exile in the French capital. The projected new rising was, of course, in the 1859-1867 interest once more of Don Carlos the Second, known as Count de Montemolin, and commonly spoken of as Charles VI. The movement proved abortive, but Ortega, in 1859, effected a landing in Spain and marched upon the city of Valencia at the head of a body of 3,500 troops, accompanied by Count de Montemolin and his brother Don Fernando, but was captured and shot at Tortosa. At the same time the Carlist chiefs were suffered to escape from the country, while the soldiers under them, not being aware of the real object of the invasion, were permitted to recross the frontier or were otherwise dispersed. Another occurrence at the period was a brief war with Morocco, whose sultan had caused Spanish settlements across the straits of Gibraltar to be attacked and despoiled. At its outbreak, General O’Donnell, at the head of an army, was sent to invade Morocco, and in 1860 won the battle of Tetuan and extorted by treaty indemnity from the sultan. In the following year, 1861, Spain joined in an expedition with England and France under Emperor Louis Napoleon, against Mexico, to exact from the government of President Juarez payment of moneys due to its foreign creditors, the holders of Mexican bonds, with reparation for wrongs done to their subjects. This expedition commanded by the Spanish general Prim, duly accomplished its object, so far as England and Spain were concerned, and their fleets withdrew and recrossed the Atlantic.

The French, on the other hand, incited by the fatuous ambition of their emperor, remained in Mexico with the design of setting up a Mexican empire in place of the republic, to be ruled by Joseph. This ill-fated personage was brought forward by the French emperor in response to an assembly of notables in Mexico, composed of opponents of the Juarez republic, who had set up an imperial form of government and asked Maximilian to accept an offer of the throne. He reached the country at the end of May, 1864, but prosecuting the war, with the aid of the French forces, the Mexican emperor was besieged at Querétaro by a republican force, was compelled to surrender in May, 1867, and a month later he was condemned by a court-martial and shot. This cruel act was justified by the court that tried him in retaliation for a like fate meted out to “rebels” against his authority.

Meanwhile the United States government, at the close of the Civil War, insisted on the French emperor withdrawing his forces from the country, while it refused to recognize the empire he had 1867-1868 caused to be set up in Mexico. With this demand Napoleon III. was compelled to comply, and the French troops were consequently withdrawn.

After these occurrences, though the Spanish troops were received joyfully on their return from Mexico, events in Spain rapidly culminated in trouble to the queen’s government, and occasioned the flight of Isabella, with her immediate entourage, from the kingdom. The cause of this was the hostility of the Republican party, now grown in strength in Spain and weary of the unconstitutional régime of the era, together with the intrigues of Señor Olosaga, its leader, who had associated with himself General Dulce, lately returned from Cuba, General Prim, who had just come back from the Mexican expedition, and Field Marshal Serrano, now Duc de la Torre. In the new conspiracy the navy of Spain had been induced to take part, under Topete, its admiral, influenced by men of good position and tried patriotism, who were disgusted with Isabella’s reactionary rule under the Camarilla which acted for her. By this time O’Donnell and Narvaez were both dead, and the queen’s present administrator was Gonsalez Bravo, a poltroon, who on the hatching of the conspiracy at Cadiz, in September, 1868, incontinently ran away. With Bravo there acted for the moment, in the interest of the monarchy, three or four minor general officers, who, on discovering that the mine under the feet of the queen was about to be fired, made a show of meeting the new and alarming irruption with force. But the plot had gone too far and was not to be lightly or feebly dealt with. Already a demonstration had taken place at Cadiz, which was joined in by the fleet. There a pronunciamento was issued reciting the evils the country suffered from the maladministration and corruption of every department of the government, with severe reprobation of Isabella’s own conduct in her relations with her favorites, whom she profusely decorated and elevated to high rank. The queen, at this juncture, of course with a new lover, an opera singer who had been raised to the peerage, was taking the salt water baths at San Sebastian, and there news was speedily brought her of the new menace to herself and her dynasty. When the revolutionary leaders, Prim, Dulce, and Serrano, had met the royalist troops at the battle of Alcolea Bridge, and there the latter had been worsted, the queen at length realized that her cause was lost. In her extremity she yet clung to one hope, which was an appeal to the Emperor Louis Napoleon, 1868-1878 who at the time, with the Empress Eugenie and the French court, was at Biarritz. Thither Isabella in person clandestinely proceeded in October, 1868, and besought French intervention. To this the emperor, however, refused to accede, though he hospitably offered an asylum in France to the practically dethroned queen, as well as to her husband and their children.

These events blasted the hopes of Isabella and her adherents, and the queen did not see Spain for the space of nearly seven years. In the interval, and before the coming of her son, the youthful prince of the Asturias, to the Spanish throne as Alfonso XII., her unhappy country was to see a new monarch assume the crown, and, finally, the outbreak of the third Carlist war, with its attendant scenes of cruelty and violence, ushering in what promised to be a wholesome and settled era of hereditary and constitutional monarchy. Meanwhile, the insurrection in the Peninsula and the exile of Isabella had their sequel in Cuba, for the next ten years distracted and desolated by rebellion. A temporary peace was brought about in 1878 by the compromise of El Zaujou, with the admittance, futile, however, for its better government, of representative deputies in the Cortes at Madrid. Futile, indeed, was the whole of the new era in Cuba, with its promise of representation in the legislature of the country’s capital; the home government so manipulated the elections that the deputies returned to the Cortes were, in the main, natives of Spain, and not of the island colony, where many thousand Peninsulars had found graves in the vain attempt to keep its badly governed, insurgent population in subjection. As for hope of peaceful reform, or any relief from the galling rule of the hated motherland, there was none.

Chapter XXI

THE BRIEF REIGN OF AMADEUS, AND THE BOURBON
RESTORATION. 1868-1910

The reins of government, nominally held by Isabella until her flight and exile, were not readily placed in the hands of a new ruler. Those called upon to administer the anarchic affairs of Spain, still less those who took upon themselves periodically to plunge the kingdom into the chaotic depths of revolution, were not usually given to circumspection and foresight. Who was to replace Isabella on the throne, or as the representative head of the state, in the event of a monarchy or a republic ensuing, was a matter that had, as yet, received but little thoughtful consideration. Nor in the party differences and political rivalries of the time was the choice, in any event, likely to be a speedy one, for many weighty matters had first to be considered and much dissension calmed ere the leaders, with any degree of unanimity, could determine first the style and form of the new government to be called into existence, and, after that, the no less important question who should be its actual or nominal head. When these problems came practically to be argued and solved, two essentially vital matters confronted them, namely: First, whether or no the leaders should make Spain once more a republic; and second, if the monarchy was to be maintained, in what quarter should they look for a safe and otherwise desirable new ruler. On the first question the revolutionary chiefs seemed to incline towards the perpetuation of the monarchy, though on a sound constitutional basis; the second question was a puzzling one, although they had tacitly decided that the new king should not be a Bourbon. Meanwhile, it was necessary to make arrangements for some sort of provisional government. A number of good men, hitherto prominent in public affairs, were selected as heads of the departments in a new ministry under Señor Serrano, who was elected president of the council. Prim was assigned the ministry of war; Topete was chosen head of the navy. Sagasta became minister of the interior, Zorilla minister of commerce, Figuerola minister of finance, and Lorenzana minister 1869 of foreign affairs. With the appointment of these men to their respective posts, the Cortes was summoned in 1869, and a committee of fifteen named to draft a new constitution. Agreement as to the latter’s provisions was far from unanimous. It introduced some features unknown to the older ones, such as the formation of a senate and the organization of a council of state to act coördinately with the house of representatives, and substituted for the principle of legitimacy in the person who came to the throne the sovereignty of the people. It moreover restored the monarchical form of government, with checks in the way of constitutional control, and provision for securing popular rights and the freedom of conscience in matters of religion. The promulgation of the new constitution did not evoke much public criticism, nor, on the other hand, was it received with any degree of enthusiasm. Until a sovereign was installed, Serrano was named regent, while to him and to his colleague, Prim, was intrusted the unenviable duty of seeking out and naming a likely and acceptable future king.

The task confided to the discretion of Serrano and Prim naturally and immediately brought its difficulties. The names of several high personages had already been spoken of, and the canvass of their respective possible candidatures was entered into with eagerness, save among the Republicans in the Cortes and the country, who, though the distinguished Castelar was an influential member of the party, were curtly disregarded and left out of consideration, the nation having adhered to the traditional form of government as a monarchy. Among the names of those favorably looked upon to fill the vacant throne were the Hohenzollern Prince Leopold, a relative of King William of Prussia; the Duc de Montpensier, husband of Isabella’s sister, Doña Louisa; Ferdinand of Portugal, who had just resigned the regency of that kingdom, on his son’s (Pedro V.) assuming the Portuguese throne, and Amadeus, Duke of Aosta, second son of Victor Emmanuel. Of these, Prim’s favored candidate was Prince Leopold. But Napoleon III. wrote to King William that if he encouraged his young relative in accepting the offer made to him he would treat it as a cause of war between their two crowns. The king of Prussia spiritedly resented this interference of France, and the angry “notes” which passed between the monarchs were the proximate causes of the Franco-German war.

Balked as Prim was in his king-hunt in this direction, Leopold’s 1870-1871 refusal of the crown was well both for himself and for the Spanish nation. The feeling in Spain was strong against a foreigner, while the German prince, if he sought to do his duty, would not have been likely to find a traditionally Bourbon throne a bed of roses. In the discussion of other possible candidates the ex-regent of Portugal was named, only to be rejected, as the leaders did not desire any closer union with the joint occupant with Spain of the Iberian Peninsula. The Spanish statesman, Espartero, also received consideration, as he deserved, but his name was dropped when Prim announced to the Cortes (November, 1870) a new ministerial candidate, in the person of Amadeus of Italy, who in the ballot that was taken was indorsed by a good majority in the house. To him overtures were made and Amadeus at last rose to the bait, little tempting as he was ere long to find it, with an impossible people to rule, disaffected against a Savoyard, and eaten up with intrigue and chronic turbulence.

The coming of the Duke of Aosta to the throne was the signal for the renewed outbreak of faction, whose work, in spite of the large vote he had received in his election by the Cortes, was now to show itself adverse to “the intrusive king,” as he was called. Just before his arrival at Madrid, where he was coldly received, the country was startled by the foul assassination of General Prim at the capital. Prim had been pleased at the choice of Amadeus, on account of the frank manners and friendly ways of the new monarch towards the common people, and with his last breath had resignedly but joyfully cried: “I am dying—but the king is coming!” In spite of this untoward event and of the unknown source whence had come the fatal shots, Amadeus was proclaimed king at the capital in January, 1871, and took his thorny seat on the throne of Spain. Though the new king’s character was irreproachable and his bearing and manner of life considerate and kindly, he could not live down the hostility against him, though he sought to placate everybody, made several tours of unostentatious state through various sections of the kingdom, and paid a graceful visit to the veteran patriot statesman, Espartero, by whom he was loyally and enthusiastically welcomed.

Zorilla, at this period, held the chief post in the administration, but there was no stability in the government, and the Italian king had little opportunity to govern constitutionally, or even through his own kindly efforts and those of his attractive queen, to 1873 win a hold upon the affections of his churlish or indifferent subjects. Amadeus therefore proposed to abandon the throne and betook himself with his belongings out of the country in February, 1873, only two years after his accession. Not only the king’s life had been attempted, but the queen was continually insulted by the wives of the grandees. “One dissolution of parliament, and one change of cabinet after another,” narrates Professor J. W. Harrison, “had failed to give him elements homogeneous, enlightened, unselfish, and patriotic enough to control a country in which republicanism had now made monstrous strides. ‘Spain for the Spaniards! Out with the Savoyard!’ resounded through stranger-abhorring Spain. A king in round hat and white pantaloons, simple in manners, intolerant of hand-kissing and obsequiousness; a queen who dared to give birth to a prince without having the palace illuminated; an impassive, unemotional royal couple, promenading almost unattended through the streets of Madrid; matchless courage and simplicity; the heartiest desire to benefit the country by parliamentary and lawful methods, to heal its incurable wounds, to reconcile its parties—all these things contributed to the departure of the king and queen to Portugal.”

Thus ended one more effort to rule Spain as a monarchy, and with worthy material to contribute to its welfare, the country neither knew nor appreciated the fact. Following Amadeus’s abdication and departure was the establishment for a brief space of a hotly-clamored-for but freshly distracted republic, which in Spain, as it has been aptly said, “succeeds the monarchy as quickly as one sentinel succeeds another.” The republic was tolerably acquiesced in by the country, but its administration encountered the difficulties which ever beset the unhappy, discordant nation, including a third Carlist war. For the moment Serrano was installed at the head of affairs, but he had presently to give way to Pi y Margall and his few weeks’ dictatorship. Margall, in turn, was succeeded by Salmeron, and later by the moderate but astute republican statesman, Emilio Castelar. Meanwhile, in the fall of the year 1873 Don Carlos, Duke of Madrid, grandson of the elder, put himself at the head of a new Carlist rising, and with an army invaded the Basque provinces. With him came his brother Don Alfonso and General Elio, who was appointed Carlist commander-in-chief, together with a good fighting officer in General Dorregaray. The Carlists landed in the Bay of Biscay, at Portugalate, near Bilbao, 1873-1875 then besieged in the republic’s cause by Velasco. Hither came Marshal Serrano, who proceeded to attack the Carlists in the mountain recesses above Bilbao; while Manuel Concha, Marquis of Duero, invested them on the other side; and Martinez Campos and a portion of the army of the republic succeeded in entering Bilbao in May, 1873. After this Carlist check, Don Carlos fell back on Durango, near the borders of Navarre, with Concha in command, for Serrano had been summoned by political events in the capital to return to his executive post. The purpose of the republican leaders was now to march upon Estella, in the interior, the heights of which were defended by strong earthworks erected by the Carlist troops under General Dorregaray. While en route thither, a three days’ battle was fought at Abazuza, which went ill with the attacking force, and Concha was killed. After this Carlist victory Concha was replaced by Zabala, minister of war at Madrid, aided by General Laserna, and after desultory fighting, Pampeluna, in Navarre, fell into the republic’s hands, and the Carlists broke up into guerrilla bands operating in Valencia, Murcia, and Granada. Dorregaray, their commander, resigned. For a time Don Carlos’s brother, Don Alfonso, continued to hold Catalonia, always a Carlist stronghold; but ere long, falling out with Charles VII., he abandoned his cause, withdrawing to France, and thence making his way into Austria. Meantime Don Carlos himself had met repulse at Irun, but proceeded to lay siege to St. Sebastian, while Dorregaray returned to further assist the Carlist cause, whose operations were now marked by much barbarity and ferocity.

While the war was being prosecuted a new surprise fell upon the nation, in the announcement from Madrid that Isabella’s son, the prince of the Asturias, had been proclaimed king of Spain, with the title of Alfonso XII. The new king’s entrance into the capital and accession to the throne occurred in the middle of January, 1875, he and his royal escort having come from Marseilles earlier in the month by way of Barcelona and Valencia. The capital took kindly to the resumption of monarchy, as did most of the chief cities, and manifested little regret at the fall of the republic. Serrano, who had held the chief executive post gave his adhesion to the new order of things, though he left the country. The king took as his first adviser the trusted Canovas del Castillo, a man of eminent ability and 1875-1876 prudence, who had been instrumental in paving Alfonso’s way to the crown. Almost immediately after Alfonso’s accession and proclamation as king, Martinez Campos and other monarchical chiefs left Madrid for the army of the north, to win over the troops there to the royalist standard, the king himself following, with the design of proceeding to the seat of war. There he found that the army, under Jovellar, had already sided with him and accepted the new dynasty, though it regarded without enthusiasm the proclamation to the soldiery the king had caused to be addressed to them. Don Carlos and his adherents, on the other hand, were aflame with indignation, and proceeded to give a new impulse to the war and to continue the internecine strife. The royalists, on their part, hastened to revictual and strengthen the garrison of Pampeluna, then besieged by a Carlist force; while the king in person, with a division of the army, proceeded to attack Estella, still held by the forces of Charles VII. To intercept this royalist movement Don Carlos advanced to meet the king and his forces, and an affray occurred at Lucar, which checked further progress, and induced the royalist generals to compel the king, for his safety, to return to Madrid. This he did about the middle of February, leaving Quesada, an able and reliable general, to prosecute the war, while Alfonso reached the capital in safety.

There would be little profit to the reader in our continuing the record of the war. The signs of its speedy termination were even now visible, for the two Carlist strongholds, Estella and Seo d’Urgel, capitulated; while Catalonia, which had of late been devastated by bands of guerrillas, was in large measure pacified, thanks to the operations of Martinez Campos against the Carlist General Dorregaray. Even the former Carlist chieftain, Cabrera, who had taken no part in the present rising, gave his adhesion to Alfonso’s rule and exhorted his old comrades to refrain from further fighting, sue for liberal concessions, and end the civil strife. Along the banks of the Bidassoa and the region of Biscay the Carlists still strove to keep the royalist forces at bay; but the Pretender’s army began to melt away, and Don Carlos, disheartened, threw up his cause in Spain, and took himself out of the country in the spring of 1876.

The Madrid government, now free from these Carlist risings, found republican sentiment still strong. Criminality in the extreme adherents of the party occasionally broke forth, and was manifested in two attempts to end the king’s life. The government sought to 1876-1885 secure peace with a measure of substantial progress in poor Spain. It first, however, visited upon Navarre and the Basque provinces the consequences of periodic insurrection by withdrawing into the hands of the general government its provincial and local municipal privileges, which abolished the old kingdom of Navarre and made for increased national unity. This, naturally, was not to their liking; hardly less so was the compulsion to contribute to the war and general expenses of the nation, at this period in sore need, with an empty treasury and a country devastated by these risings in the north. On the whole, however, Alfonso XII.’s administration acted wisely in adopting conciliatory measures with the districts and parties lately in revolt; and under Castillo’s competent direction the country ere long showed signs of quickened development as well as substantial progress upon the return of peace. In the capable and comparatively honest hands of the new Madrid cabinet state bankruptcy was at the same time averted by unifying the public debt, and by reducing the annual expenditures and improving the political and moral character of the national administration.

Neither internal peace nor a millennial reformation in the government of Spain, however, quite followed. Misrule and disaffection in her possessions abroad were more or less constantly present. Cuba, though the Ten Years’ war (1868-1878) had been brought to a close, continued unquiet as well as unprogressive; while, soon after, administrative abuses gave rise in the Caroline Islands to a revolt among the natives. Renewed hostilities broke out in Catalonia, which made a demand upon martial law for repression.

Opposition also arose to the Canovas ministry, on the part of the liberal leaders loyal to the dynasty, the result of which was the overthrow of the administration and the formation of a new one, led by Sagasta, in September, 1881. Bad harvests, disastrous floods, strikes among factory hands, discontent in the army over the renewed resort to conscription, followed by the spread of Socialism, together with an outbreak of cholera in Murcia, brought on the kingdom more or less trouble, with increased anxiety to the administration. In the midst of these depressions, and to add to them, came the early death (November, 1885) of the king, due to the inroads of consumption on a system at the time enfeebled by an attack of dysentery. His royal widow was appointed regent, 1886-1897 and a new administration, the Liberal ministry of Sagasta, was formed; while, after a general election, the Cortes was summoned and assembled. In May, 1886, Maria Christina, the queen-regent, gave birth to a posthumous son, the present Alfonso XIII. The sympathy of the nation for the queen, in spite of her foreign birth, was by this circumstance aroused in her favor; while her own estimable character, gentleness, tact, and dignity, added to her devout life and known charitable disposition, enabled her to endear herself, as she desired to do, to all classes of the Spanish people.

Alfonso XIII., as the constitution directs, succeeded by his birth to the throne, and of course over his sisters, Maria Christina having at the same time taken the oath of office as queen-regent during her son’s minority. The constitution of 1876 was in 1886 maintained, and it and its provisions are to-day still in force. The executive is vested, under the reigning sovereign and queen-regent, in a council of ministers, over which the premier, as president of the body, presides, with departmental heads of justice, finance, war, marine, education, the interior, foreign affairs and agriculture, with which are grouped commerce and public works. The Cortes, by the last constitution, consists of two bodies, the Senate and Congress, with coördinate authority. Government under the queen-regent had as heretofore its difficulties, arising, in part, from the contentions of its various conspiring parties in the state. These at this period were the Conservatives, under Canovas; the Liberals, under Sagasta; the Unionist Republicans, under Margall; and the remains of the Carlist party, represented by the Marquis de Cerralbo. The chief of these warring sections, the Liberal party, was for a time in contention with the Ultramontanes, who, true to their traditions, sought increased power for the church. This the Liberals withstood, in the interest of liberty and toleration, with freedom of worship. The religious aspect of the country is, nevertheless, far from gratifying, as there is much indifference shown to religion and church services. The middle and upper classes have largely broken away from the old faith, while the peasant class is, if not wholly irreligious, sunk in superstition. Education does not make much progress. Out of a population, in 1897, of eighteen and a quarter millions, as many as two-thirds could neither read nor write.

The administration, for a time alternately under Canovas 1868-1897 and Sagasta, had its own perplexities, arising from the condition of the finances and the state of things in the distracted island of Cuba. The financial straits of the parent country were temporarily relieved by the state procuring large loans from the Bank of Spain, which had been empowered by the government vastly to increase its note issue; while it also obtained funds from the sale of government bonds.

Among the younger politicians of eminence in Spain was Emilio Castelar, a literary man as well as a parliamentarian and orator. This liberal-minded and able statesman, though early in his career a republican in sympathies, declared himself loyal to the present dynasty. When Maria Christina became a widow, and later on regent for her son, Castelar did her cause good service by counseling loyalty to her government, using in a speech on a notable occasion the phrase: “Spaniards cannot fight against a woman or against a child in his cradle.” His interest in Spain’s national affairs was always an enlightened and patriotic one, and, with his confreres, in the years 1868-1874, among the younger men rising to leadership in the nation, he replaced with acceptance those who were passing away, or those who, since Castelar’s period of activity in the Cortes and as president for a time of the Executive, came to an untimely end by assassination. The same fate overtook Canovas del Castillo in 1897, the veteran statesman falling a victim to the vengeance of conspirators who had been concerned in anarchic plots in Barcelona and elsewhere, and which the premier had found it expedient to suppress with a heavy hand. Bomb-throwing and dynamite plots tormented the reforming soul of Sagasta after the proclamation of Alfonso XIII. as king under the regency; while a new insurrection broke out among some of the troops in Madrid, in which, it is affirmed, 10,000 banditti and other seditious persons were implicated. Concealed explosives were found under the legislative chamber at the capital, and stern measures were necessary to offset the sedition and evil turbulence of the period, and made slow in their ameliorating operation the government’s measures of reform.

Castelar, for many years, and until his lamented death in 1895, took no active part in politics, but devoted himself to a literary life, while the honorable and aged Sagasta served the state as adviser and chief executive in the ministry of the young king 1810-1898 and his mother. Meanwhile, long and strenuous efforts had been made by each dependency in the New World to sunder the bonds that fettered it to the parent state. Reactionary methods of colonial government estranged the dependencies and drove them, again and again, to rebellion. When the national government was overthrown by Napoleon after the French Revolution, in 1810, he set his brother Joseph for a time on the Spanish throne. At this period Mexico began to slip from Spain’s grasp, a revolution having been begun in New Spain, as it was called, by Hidalgo, the first leader of the Mexican War for Independence. Hidalgo was defeated by the Spanish general, Calleja, and later had to fly from the country, but was captured and shot. Mexico passed through many trials, lost Texas by secession, and had wars with the United States and with France, but ultimately gained independence and became a republic.

Chile, in 1810, also separated herself from Spanish dominion, and in 1818 declared her independence; followed by Peru in 1820, which proclaimed her autonomy and won self-government after the battle of Agacucho, in 1824. This country had once more to fight the motherland in 1865-1866, and engaged in a war with Chile in 1879. In spite of these embroilments and sundry outbreaks of revolution, together with devastation by earthquakes, the republic has succeeded in overthrowing the Spanish viceroyalty in South America. Though more fortunate than Spain, and much less chargeable with criminal folly in the rule of her South American dependencies, Portugal also had to withdraw from the New World, her old-time colony and later empire of Brazil finally establishing an independent republic in 1889, when the imperial family was compelled to leave the country which in the Napoleonic era had provided a refuge for the reigning dynasty.

In the West Indies the island of Cuba had for decades been the scene of Spanish misrule. Under General Weyler the atrocities roused popular sympathy in the United States, and even after the recall of Weyler, at the instigation of the noble Sagasta, that country continued alert to the condition of its island neighbor. In February, 1898, the United States cruiser Maine, in harbor at Havana, was blown up. The finding of the commission of inquiry could not establish Spain’s official responsibility for the Maine disaster, but a storm of indignation broke over the country, demanding the evacuation of the Spaniards from Cuba. War was 1898-1899 declared. The continental powers looked on, and while admitting the two countries were unequally matched in point of resources, it was considered that Spain’s strength would show to advantage over the Americans in her efficient and strongly disciplined navy. But May 1, under Admiral Dewey in Manila Bay, the Americans totally destroyed two fleets of Admiral Montojo, and nearer the cause of the conflict, at Santiago de Cuba, Rear Admiral Cervera was defeated by the American Sampson. American land forces were no less successful in the Philippine Islands and Cuba. Parleys of coming peace were already current, when General Miles proceeded on Porto Rico. August 1 brought definite news of the close of the war, one hundred and thirteen days from its beginning. Spain only yielded to the inevitable. Her army had been practically annihilated and her national debt increased $300,000,000 by the expense of the war. Moreover, she was forced to assume the Cuban and Philippine debts, making an additional $231,050,000.

The treaty of peace was signed at Paris on December 10, 1898. Spain relinquished her sovereignty in Cuba, Porto Rico, and the Philippine Islands. The humiliation over this compulsory territorial abandonment was great, as evidenced in the Peninsula by a deep sullenness among the people, and here and there by angry riotings. Her serious plight might well awaken emotions of pity, since her condition was most pathetic, in view of the disasters that had befallen her, aggravated by her wrecked financial credit, the political strifes, dynastic plottings, industrial revolts, and general discontent among her subjects. From a calmer standpoint, however, she was the gainer, in being relieved of her turbulent colonies, which had not only drained her resources, but distracted the mind and energies of the kingdom in vain efforts to rule them. This was the view of her best friends, and her own dispassionate statesmen admitted that what had happened was really her national salvation.

But the terms of the treaty were unpopular nevertheless, and the military party made them an issue and succeeded in deposing Sagasta and his liberal régime. Silvela with a conservative ministry, representing the modern Conservative party, took over the reins of government in 1899. Financial reforms, effected by Villaverdi, and the sale of the Caroline Islands to Germany for $4,000,000, were the important accomplishments of the new ministry, and fortunately both had favorable bearing on the national exchequer. 1900-1903 In October of the following year Silvela’s cabinet was succeeded by a new conservative administration of the military party, with General Azcarraga at its head.

Meanwhile a more modern spirit was at work leavening the Peninsula. In November, 1900, the efforts of the Sociad Unión Ibero-Americana resulted in a congress of the Spanish-American States, which met in Madrid for the single purpose of bringing into greater harmony the relations with the mother country. The liberal spirit marked the dawn of the twentieth century. Sagasta returned into power, and the queen in opening the Cortes referred to the necessity for the social reorganization of the country. The new government was marked by strictness and severity toward the religious orders, so numerous and so influential throughout the country. Efforts were made looking to a reduction in the church estimate, about 41,000,000 pesetas yearly, which by the constitution goes to support the clergy and buildings of the church. By a special enactment the registration of the orders was required, preliminary to their general investigation, and in many ways a sternness new to Spain marked the attitude of the government.

On May 17, 1902, the young prince was declared of age and was crowned as Alfonso XIII., King of Spain. Thus the regency came to an end, but Sagasta, much against his will, continued in office. In December, 1902, he gave way before Silvela, and in the following year he died. Silvela’s brief return to power was marked by little of importance except for the treaties of arbitration concluded with the countries of South America, in which, however, Chile was not included. Another year brought another new cabinet, headed by Villaverdi.

In the general election of 1903 Madrid itself was swept by the Republicans, and the party made strong headway during the year under the leadership of Salmeron. Resistance to the Jesuits and the Vatican more and more characterized its policy. In July, 1903, Villaverdi formed a new administration. In December of the same year Maura became premier of this (to use the phrase of the Paris correspondent of the Times) “most reactionary government that Spain has tolerated since the Restoration.” At the same time another new faction, the Democratic Liberal Party, came into existence. Maura’s cabinet fell twelve months later, and the administration of General Azcarraga again succeeded, only to fall in a few weeks, when Villaverdi, with a new ministry, returned to 1905-1910 power. In June Villaverdi’s administration was defeated in the Cortes, and the Liberals, under Montero Rios, took office.

This year, like its predecessors, so fraught with political changes, brought hardships in the provinces, and Andalusia and Aragon suffered from agricultural depression and lack of employment for the people. A royal decree set aside $2,500,000 for relief, but this proved vastly inadequate, and, to the despair of the minister of finance, who resigned forthwith, the government appealed to the Cortes for an additional $7,500,000 for aid and for construction of public works. In December, 1905, the cabinet resigned, and Moret was instructed to form a new ministry. This ministry remained in office until June 7, 1906.

Meanwhile, the marriage of the young king to the Princess Ena of Battenberg on May 31, 1906, took first rank in the interest of the people. The fact that the young queen, now known as Victoria, was the niece of Edward VII., King of England, was particularly significant, as the alliance marked the first union of the royal houses of Spain and England in over three hundred years.

In 1906, several questions raised by the King’s speech to the Cortes, three years before, were taken up. A bill was passed giving offenses against the army and national unity to the military rather than to the civil courts. The separation of church and state was discussed, but after a succession of three anti-clerical ministries during the months of January and February, 1907, the Conservatives under Señor Maura came into power and the Law of Association, which had been intended to check the immigration of the clerical orders recently expelled from France, failed to pass. The Conservatives also carried the general elections on April 21, 1907.

For a number of years, Spain had been troubled with anarchistic plots, of which Barcelona was always the center. In 1907, seventeen bomb explosions took place there, killing five persons and wounding eighteen. At the beginning of the next year, anarchistic attempts seemed to be on the increase, and on January 26 the minister of justice introduced into the senate a bill, known as the Terrorist Bill, dealing with anarchistic agitation. It empowered the government to suppress summarily anarchistic journals and clubs, to close houses used as meeting places by suspects, and to banish anyone who in speech or writing advocated doctrines destructive of the social order. It also enabled the government 1907-1910 to place any district under martial law and forbade the printing of any unofficial news in regard to anarchistic crimes. These measures called forth a great deal of opposition, both in the Cortes and among the public. The bill was finally put through the Senate, but was held up in the Chamber, which later decided to suspend its report and to adjourn sine die. In this same meeting of the Cortes the government attempted to pass a bill for local administration. A vigorous campaign against it was carried on by the Socialists, and it also failed to pass.

While terrorism was at its height in Barcelona, the king determined to visit the city on the occasion of the arrival of an Austrian squadron, and he accordingly entered Barcelona on March 10. He was received cordially, and there was no sign of the revolutionary disturbance.

In March was issued a decree which for the first time in Spanish law placed a limitation on the employment of women in certain industries. The law applies to all children under sixteen years of age and to all women under twenty-five. Chemical works, match factories, type foundries, glass and lead works, and slaughter houses are forbidden to these workers.

On April 14, 1909, the Minister of Finance introduced into the Cortes a bill authorizing the issue of a four per cent. loan of $200,000,000, declaring that the funds so provided should be devoted to public works, such as colonization, reforestation, irrigation, and the construction of canals, bridges, highways, and public buildings.

On June 22, 1909, the queen gave birth to a daughter, the Princess Beatrice; this was the third child of the royal couple, the older two both being boys—Alphonso, the Prince of the Asturias, born May 10, 1907, and Prince Jamie, born June 23, 1908. On July 18, 1909, Don Carlos de Bourbon, Duke of Madrid and pretender to the Spanish throne, died at the age of sixty-one. As the head of the Bourbon family, he was also the first in direct succession to the throne of France should the French monarchy have been restored. Upon his death his son, Don Jamie de Bourbon, born June 27, 1870, succeeded to all his claims. Don Jamie had been for some years an officer in the Russian army, but had lived most of the time in Paris. Owing to a French law imposing perpetual exile upon the recognized head of any family that has been on the throne of France, he could no longer dwell in France.

Early in July, 1909, a party of Spanish workmen were repairing 1908-1910 a bridge near the city of Melilla, on the Mediterranean shore of Morocco, when they were attacked by some natives, and several of the Spaniards were killed. The Spanish governor, with a force of regular troops, defeated the Moroccans in a spirited engagement, but was forced to retreat. The weakness of the Spanish forces in this district was thus revealed, and General Marina was sent to take charge of all the Spanish forces in Morocco and to head a punitive expedition. Upon this move of the Spaniards, the natives, to the number of 50,000, took up arms and attacked all the Spanish outposts. Early in August, General Marina asked for additional forces amounting to 40,000 men. The ordering of these troops for service in Morocco immediately precipitated popular uprisings throughout Spain and particularly in the province of Catalonia. For several days in the latter part of July, riot, pillage, murder, and outrage ruled Barcelona until on July 26 martial law was declared. Two days later martial law was declared over the entire kingdom.

In September the Spanish forces in Africa won several victories over the Moors, two strongly fortified posts—Zehuan and Mount Guruzu—being taken by General Marina on September 27. The Spanish government celebrated these conquests by an abolition of martial law in all the provinces except Gerona and Barcelona; the instigators of the riots were sought out and punished. Among those who suffered for their beliefs and actions was Professor Francisco Ferrer, a Spanish educator of radical tendencies. The government claimed that he was the instigator and director of the Barcelona riots. He admitted his radical opinions, but denied any connection with the uprising. His trial was in secret, and he was condemned by a court-martial decree to death, the sentence being carried out on October 13 in spite of protests and petitions by sympathizers not only in Spain, but in France and Italy. The news of his death was the signal for general rioting throughout Europe; in London, Paris, Vienna, and Rome the police had great trouble in restraining demonstrators and in preventing violence. When the Cortes met on October 15, 1909, it expressed loyalty to the government and the throne. On October 21, Señor Moret y Prendergast, the Liberal leader, was asked to form a ministry to succeed that of Maura, which had resigned. Within a week after this change in the government, the two provinces of Barcelona and Gerona had been freed from martial law, and more successes for 1909-1910 the Spanish had been reported from Africa. The Liberals were victorious in the municipal elections of December 12 of this same year, and internal affairs are in a more quiet state at present (1910), than for several years. In common with other countries Spain suffered from terrible storms during the latter part of the year 1909, considerable damage being done along the coast. On January 13, 1910, the captain-general of Madrid and several other Spanish army officers were relieved of their commands because of their action in expressing adverse criticism of the government.

Chapter XXII

EVENTS TO THE CLOSE OF THE PENINSULAR WAR
1789-1815

The earlier narrative of the annals of this kingdom closed with the year 1789, when its then queen, Maria (Francisca) I., lost what little intellect she possessed and the affairs of state had to be intrusted to her son Dom Joam, though he was not declared regent till ten years later. This prince did not come to the throne until the death of his mother in Brazil in 1816, though the government practically fell into his hands in 1792, when Europe began to feel the effects of the outbreak of the French Revolution. He assumed the crown of Portugal as Joam, or John, VI. During his regency the nation became the theater of prolonged hostile strife, in consequence of its having joined the European coalition against revolutionary France and the First Consul, and later had to contend against the designs of Napoleon. This brought England to the regent’s assistance, with the successive armies of Wellington during the historic period of the Peninsular war.

At an earlier period Portugal had had a friendly understanding with England, dating from the era of the Methuen commercial treaty of 1703, which permitted Portuguese wines to be admitted at a low rate of duty into Britain, in return for concessions in Portugal in favor of English manufactures. The effect of this practical alliance was later on to give permission to England to make use of Portugal as a base of operations against Spain in the war which that nation had entered upon in 1762 under Charles III., at the period when his kingdom had a compact with France and the Bourbon powers to restrain the operations of England in America, and, if possible, place limits upon her naval supremacy at sea. This war with Spain, as well as that with France, known in the New World as the French and Indian wars, brought signal disaster to the arms and colonial possessions of both those countries, while Portugal was aided by her English ally in securing the restoration from Spain of the Portuguese colonies which that power had taken from 1756-1792 her, together with the withdrawal of Spanish and French troops from Portuguese territories.

Portugal was fortunate at this period in having a capable and enlightened minister in the Marquis of Pombal, who did much for his country by effecting many wise reforms in the kingdom. In Europe after the Seven Years’ war and the fall of the Jesuit order, a closer union took place between the Bourbon kingdoms of France, Spain, Naples, and Parma; but these Latin countries, together with the power of the papacy, declined, while the Slav and Teutonic elements increased in strength and influence, and England began to have her hands full in her struggle with America in the War of Independence.

During Pombal’s intelligent but conservative administration Portugal pursued a peaceful policy, which gave opportunity for developing the economic as well as the general internal resources of the country, under the quasi-protection of Britain. The kingdom was for a lengthened period under the successive rules of John V. and Joseph (José), and was strongly absolutist. In 1773 slavery was abolished and the general enlightenment of the kingdom evinced by the attention to education. The University of Coimbra was modernized and reforms introduced in the army, while greater attention was given to agriculture and to the profitable product of the vine. Active measures were taken to build up anew and embellish Lisbon, the capital, which the earthquake in 1755 had nearly destroyed, and means for undertaking this were found in the princely revenues which Portugal long received from her diamond mines and other rich possessions in Brazil.

By the time Dom Joam assumed the regency for his mother, all Europe was greatly affected by the menacing movement in revolutionary France. The Portuguese regent hastened to take part with Spain, then in the strong hands of Florida Blanca, in a war with the French republic. Though her army contingent, in unison with Spain, did good service in invading the French province of Roussillon and gallantly fighting in the eastern Pyrenees, besides taking part with her fleet with England in the Mediterranean, shortly afterwards Portugal was deserted by her Spanish ally. Spain’s motive in this, under the influence of the new court favorite, Godoy, in concert with the French minister at Madrid, was jealousy of Portugal, and the scheming of France to make partition of the kingdom, inspired by the ambitious designs 1807 of Bonaparte, then rising to power. The natural result of this French intrigue at Madrid soon showed itself, when Spain made her peace with the French directory and declared war against England in 1796. Bonaparte was engaged in his campaign in Italy against the united forces of Austria and Sardinia. After his victories in Italy the great dictator returned to Paris in December, and a year and a half later he set out for Egypt. At the battle of the Nile, as we know, France lost her fleet, which was annihilated by Nelson, and though in his expedition Napoleon took Alexandria, won the battle of the Pyramids, and entered Cairo, he had a narrow escape from capture by English cruisers on his return to France. In the French capital we find him at the close of the century menaced by European monarchs, including Emperor Paul of Russia, while in the war of the Second Coalition against revolutionary France the Russian general Suwarrow gained a succession of victories over the French forces in Italy. Meanwhile Napoleon had become First Consul, on the abolition of the French directory, and in the course of time, with the reaction in France once more towards a monarchy, assumed the rank and title of emperor of the French and king of Italy.

One of the ambitious schemes of Napoleon at this period, which he now proceeded to put into execution, was the reduction of Spain to the status of a vassal nation, with the ulterior design of placing a member of his family on its throne. Another project was the invasion of Portugal, which he hated, and wished to punish by making partition of the kingdom, since he could not get the prince regent to concur in his continental system by closing the ports of the country to English commerce, driving out or imprisoning the English in the seaports, and confiscating their goods and chattels.

The invasion and occupation of Portugal by a French army under Junot soon took place, Junot’s forces arriving at Lisbon from the Spanish border towards the end of November, 1807, just before the regent and the whole royal family embarked for Brazil, under the convoy of some vessels of the English fleet. Murat, early in the following year, at the head of another wing of the French army, entered Spain and marched upon Madrid. Napoleon’s intentions were soon disclosed in the Spanish capital, though under pretense of a professedly friendly hand. Soon after Ferdinand, Spain’s heir-apparent, was lured to Bayonne to an interview with the French emperor, and there with his father, Charles III., who had 1808 followed him, was forced to abdicate, and the stolen crown of Spain conferred upon Joseph Bonaparte.

Meanwhile, the little kingdom of Portugal, invaded by French troops, and deserted by the reigning family, was in sad plight, especially as inklings got about of the treaty of Fontainebleau, October, 1807, which forshadowed the dismemberment of Portugal and its alienation and partition among the obsequious adherents of Napoleon. On the coming of Junot with his French army to Lisbon, though its commander at first showed the complaisant side of his face to the chief people at the capital, he presently presented himself in another aspect by dissolving the council of regency which Dom John had called into existence before taking flight with his family to Rio de Janeiro. At the same time he seized all the money in the royal treasury, and by a requisition levy extracted two million francs from the coffers of the capital. He also disbanded the Portuguese army at Lisbon and sent to France democratic contingents of it, which became known in the later Napoleonic campaigns as the Portuguese Legion, and then notified the people, who were overawed and treated as a subject nation, that an end had come to the late reigning house of Braganza. When news of these rapacious and insolent acts got abroad, there were risings over the country, Oporto, particularly, being indignant at their occurrence. The latter city called into existence a patriotic junta, which seized the French governor, while from Braga to Fara there were risings against the French generals and inferior officers, who were either shot or expelled from the kingdom. Presently, also, came a reaction in Spain, with similar revolts against the common enemy, and, encouraged by these protests against French invasion and tyranny, the Portuguese called upon England to come as an ally to their assistance. This appeal was at once met by the dispatch to the country of an army under Sir Arthur Wellesley and the precipitating of the Peninsular war.

The conscienceless game Napoleon was playing in the Peninsula was met in Spain by the organization of juntas in the chief centers, by an insurrection, aided by a strong armed force in Aragon, which had its inception at Saragossa; by the renunciation of all duty to the Madrid government at Valencia; by a rising in Andalusia, where the French met with a crushing defeat, and by the general resort in many districts to guerrilla warfare. The consequences of these risings, and of the exasperation of the Spanish 1809-1810 people and their menacing attitude, shown in the fact that at this period 18,000 French soldiers laid down their arms, was the temporary withdrawal of Joseph Bonaparte and his flight for personal safety to Burgos. The patriot cause was at this juncture helped by the arrival at Corunna of 7,000 Spanish troops from Denmark, which had been relieved by the English admiral in Baltic waters from service there after the country had come to terms with Britain, following upon Nelson’s great victory at Copenhagen and the seizure of Hêligoland. The situation in both Spain and Portugal, as the result of Napoleon’s intrigues, had roused hearty and active sympathy in England, which, as we have said, brought Wellesley to Portugal, where he landed at Mondego Bay, with a force of about 10,000 men, in 1808, to begin his operations in the Peninsula. In the north Sir John Moore, with a large army, was to coöperate with Sir Arthur, the objective point of both commands being Lisbon, the capital. Unfortunately, though Wellesley had met Junot and his army of Vimiera and given them a sound beating, the campaign was temporarily closed by the maladroit convention at Cintra, foolishly made on behalf of Britain by Sir Hew Dalrymple, a circumstance that brought upon that general the severe censure of the British government. This stupid interference in the affairs of the Peninsula was not made better by Moore’s gallant stand at Corunna, whither he had retreated before the French, and where, although he lost his life, he repulsed 20,000 French veterans under Soult on January 16, 1809.

Wellesley, some months before this, had returned to England, leaving Moore in command at Lisbon, whence the latter took his way northward to his heroic death at Corunna. Here his command embarked for England, while Napoleon, leaving Soult in the field, had been recalled to France by the then threatening attitude of Austria. Presently, however, a new coalition, the fifth, was formed against the emperor, and included Britain, Austria, Portugal, and Spain. Wellesley, who was to be the main cause of the French dictator’s final overthrow, once more set out for Portugal, where he landed at the mouth of the Tagus in April, 1809. Soult had invaded Portugal from the north, and marched westward upon Oporto. Meanwhile, Wellesley, with a force of 16,000 men, advanced from Lisbon by way of Coimbra, crossed the Douro, and drove Soult in retreat into Spain. Towards the end of July Britain’s great commander, now joined by a Spanish 1811-1812 force under Cuesta, fought the fiercely contested battle of Talavera, on the Tagus, southwestward of Madrid, repulsing with but 16,000 bayonets the French, over 30,000 strong, under Generals Victor and Jourdan and King Joseph, an achievement worthy of the exploits of the great Marlborough. For his victory Wellesley obtained a peerage, with the title of Viscount Wellington. Hampered rather than aided by the Spanish troops, and ill-supplied with necessaries for his army by Spain, whose battles he was fighting, Wellington was compelled to forego other operations in Spain and withdraw into Portugal. While doing so he established strong posts on the Tagus and a vast circle of defensive works along the line of French advance from Spain, which now entered Beira under Marshal Masséna. This French general took some fortresses on the northeast of Portugal, and advanced upon Wellington’s flank at Busaco, to the northward of Coimbra, where, on September 27, 1810, he met with a bloody reverse at the hands of the British and Portuguese. Wellington now proceeded to fortify himself within the extensive lines he had caused to be constructed to defend the approaches to the capital at Torres Vedras, to the north of Lisbon. From these formidable lines Masséna recoiled, though he had been bidden by his great master in Paris “to drive the English into the sea,” and as his astute British adversary had desolated the region of country occupied by Masséna, the latter and his shattered army, unable to find subsistence, were compelled to retrace their steps into Spain. After losing another great battle, this time at Fuentes de Oñoro, Masséna was peremptorily relieved of his command by Napoleon. The emperor directed Soult and Marmont to renewed attacks, but the decisive French defeat under the latter at Salamanca (July 22, 1812) put an end to further French invasion of Portugal. This splendid victory of Wellington and his possessing himself of and fortifying those keys of Spain, Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz, put such heart into the Spanish people for the renewed defense of their country against French aggression that King Joseph abandoned his throne at Madrid. The capital was entered and occupied by Wellington in August. Here the British commander was hailed with acclaim and received high honors from the Spanish government, while in England he was rewarded by another step in the peerage, as the Marquis of Wellington.

While these events were happening, Napoleon, in conflict now with almost all Europe, had undertaken his ill-starred invasion 1811-1813 of Russia and marched upon Moscow, with the disastrous result familiar to everyone. England at this time, moreover, had upon her hands a war with the United States; but in spite of that unnatural embroilment with her kin beyond the sea, she joined actively in the new (sixth) coalition of the European powers against France and her emperor, which now embraced Russia, Sweden, Austria, and Prussia, with some of the minor German states. Meantime Wellington had still opposed to him in Spain the French forces under Jourdan, Suchet, and the discrowned King Joseph, Soult and his army having been recalled to aid Napoleon in the struggle in central Europe. The chronicling of the final campaigns in the Peninsula, until the expulsion of the French, need not now long occupy us. With the withdrawal of portions of the French army for the greater needs of the emperor elsewhere, occurrences in Spain were shorn of much importance, though Wellington had in view, when he had driven the invaders out of the Peninsula, to maintain the fighting across the frontier on French soil. Undertaking this project, and leaving sufficient troops to check any attempts to disturb the upper waterways of the Tagus, Wellington moved northward upon Burgos, which the French abandoned to defend the passage of the Ebro. Here the enemy’s position was turned, and the victors drove the French back upon and out of Victoria, when they fell back upon the mountain frontiers extending through Navarre and the Basque provinces close to the Bay of Biscay. In this region Pampeluna was blockaded, and the siege of St. Sebastian undertaken. The menace of the invasion of France by the British and their Peninsular allies was now so great that Soult was sent to the southern frontiers to defend the country, when a series of bloody encounters, known as the battles of the Pyrenees, took place, after which St. Sebastian fell amid frightful bloodshed; while the Bidassoa was crossed, the battle of the Nivelle was fought and won, and the lower Adour River was reached and crossed. The end now approached, for Wellington had driven the French from the Peninsula and achieved his purpose of carrying on the struggle on the soil of France. Soult had done his best to defeat the latter project, but had signally failed; while, after Bayonne had been invested, the onward movement of the victors forced him inland and eastward. His losses had been appalling; yet he was about to suffer still others, for he was beaten at Orthes, unable to defend Bordeaux, 1813-1815 and after Wellington had crossed the Garonne, the great battle of Toulouse (April 10, 1814) went against him, and the French position on the heights above the city was taken. With the French evacuation of Toulouse and its occupation by the victors, came the end of strife in the region and the last of the Peninsular wars.

The cessation of the long conflict, we need hardly add, was the result of Napoleon’s disastrous defeat at Leipsic and Blücher’s entrance in great force into France, events which brought about the surrender of Paris, with the abdication of the emperor, and his commitment into exile at Elba. The necessary historic pendant to this has to be added, that Napoleon escaped from Elba and returned to France in March, 1815, when he assumed once more the government of the empire. This brought on the period known as “The Hundred Days,” during which Wellington, now a duke, was hurried off to Brussels, to crown his triumphs in the brief but decisive Waterloo campaign. On June 16, 1815, Napoleon, with his veterans, attacked and inflicted a serious defeat upon the Prussians at Ligny; while Wellington repulsed Marshal Ney at Quatre Bras, who then fell back on the now historic field of Waterloo. Here, on Sunday, the 18th, after a long day’s sanguinary conflict, Napoleon and the French army, together with the emperor’s veterans of the Old Guard, were decisively beaten by the “Iron Duke,” assisted by the Prussians under Blücher. This final French discomfiture brought about the second abdication of Napoleon, and, after his capture by the Bellerophon and departure into exile in St. Helena, there followed the Peace of Paris, signed by the five great powers, and the rearrangement of the map of Europe.

Chapter XXIII

GROWTH OF THE CONSTITUTIONAL MONARCHY
1816-1910

After the expulsion of the French from the Peninsula, and the historic sequel of Waterloo, Portugal has little that is notable to record. The little kingdom for a time was given over to more or less civil strife: and in the absence of a court—the nominally reigning family being still in Brazil—the country fell to low estate in the rank of European nations, and was, in fact, but a dependency of its South American colony. Her people, however, through the trying period of the war had manifested not a few creditable marks of greatness, which, had their nobles and chief leaders not basely deserted the country with their ruler, might have shown to more signal advantage, independently of English assistance. In contrast with the troops of Spain, Portuguese soldiers, moreover, had throughout the war given evidence of a higher patriotism, as well as of conspicuous bravery, endurance, and discipline; and to their fighting qualities the great English captain who had led them through many and wearisome campaigns bore emphatic testimony. High, also, was the opinion in regard to them held by the English major-general Marshal Beresford, who had organized many thousands of Portuguese troops and, in spite of the thwartings of the Madrid Council of Regency, helped to put them efficiently in the field alongside fresh contingents of the English soldiery and the veteran English brigades.

Meanwhile, masses of the people in various sections of the country were riven with discord. Political discontent showed itself in revolt against the inert administration at Lisbon, after it had lost the active aid and helpful direction of Mr. Villiers, the English ambassador at the capital. This state of unrest was followed by the creation of rival juntas, composed largely of discharged troops, and even of those still in the pay of the country. One of these insurrectionary bodies was at Oporto, the other was at the capital, and both threw off their old allegiance to constitutional 1816-1822 authority and established provisional governments. What they sought in thus defying the Council of Regency was the summoning of the Cortes, with an enlarged representation of the people among its deputies. They also decried the existing constitution and desired an end to come to government from Brazil, unless money was forthcoming from that quarter to pay arrears due the army at home, while among the more radical element there arose a cry for the sundering of British connection, now that the war subsidies from England had ceased. In short, the desire was that “Portugal should be ruled by the Portuguese.” England took the hint to herself, and withdrew Marshal (now Lord) Beresford with his staff; while Russia, Austria, and Prussia recalled from Lisbon their respective ambassadors. In Portugal matters were complicated by the condition that had now existed for thirteen years with the prince regent a resident of Brazil, and drawing there largely upon the wealth which formerly had come to the motherland. When revolution in Portugal broke out, in 1820, Dom John, at the friendly instigation of England, was induced to return to Lisbon, leaving his son, Dom Pedro, regent at Rio de Janeiro in his absence. He left behind him instructions which practically made Brazil independent of the motherland, and directed his son, in the event of any disposition manifesting itself in the colony towards independence, to put the crown on his own head and thus save the rich transatlantic possession of the Portuguese for the house of Braganza. This precautionary measure, as it happened, proved ere long to be astutely taken, for Brazil, in September, 1822, declared herself independent of Portugal, and though the Portuguese warships at Rio made a show of resistance, in loyalty to royal connection at Madrid, Dom Pedro was elected emperor, having first subscribed to a liberal parliamentary constitution.

On his return to Portugal Dom John, now King John VI., for his mad mother, Queen Maria Francisco, had died in 1816, found the country in the throes of a revolution, mainly incited by his own queen. Carlotta did not live happily with her husband, though she returned to Portugal with him, and now schemed to seize the throne for her headstrong son, Dom Miguel, who was, however, believed to be illegitimate. As neither mother nor son favored the new constitution of 1822, they were both compelled to leave Lisbon; but Miguel, nevertheless, continued to intrigue against his father and the constitutional monarchy, with the result that John VI. was obliged 1822-1827 for a time to take refuge on an English man-of-war in the Tagus. At length, however, the insurrection was suppressed, and the king’s unfilial son was banished. King John, not liking the situation of affairs in the country to which he had returned, and being enamored of life in Brazil, set out thither in 1824, leaving the kingdom under the regency of his daughter, Isabel Maria. In Brazil the king died in 1826, and the English government, desirous of securing a peaceable succession, with quietness in the kingdom, sent to Portugal an army division, under Sir William Clinton, to keep order and garrison the chief cities. Under this fostering protection the Brazilian emperor Pedro was declared king as Pedro IV.; but the new monarch, preferring residence in Rio, and wishing to gratify his Brazilian subjects, abdicated the throne in favor of his seven-year-old daughter, Maria da Gloria, who became his successor in the kingdom, while her uncle, Dom Miguel, now free to return to Lisbon, was declared regent in 1827.

The bigoted Dom Miguel showed his intolerant, reactionary character, and the country came under a veritable reign of terror. The regent at once deposed and exiled Palmella, the prime minister, together with the leaders of the parliamentary or chartist party at the seat of government, who found an asylum in the Azores. Setting up absolute rule, he at the same time deported thousands to Africa, and imprisoned, for so-called political offenses, as many as 40,000 of the people. The inevitable result was the distraction and ruin of the kingdom. In the crisis conflicting parties came together, and, sinking their political differences, sought, under the constitution of 1820 and the charter of 1826, to assert their rights and endeavor to depose the tyrannous regent. Nor was the movement against Dom Miguel confined to Portugal, for Dom Pedro, in Brazil, influenced in part by disturbances in his American empire and the defection of one of its provinces, which declared its independence as the state of Uruguay, and in part by a desire to return to Portugal to espouse the cause of his youthful daughter, Maria da Gloria, then being educated in Vienna, resigned the Brazilian crown in favor of his son and set out for Europe. Proceeding first to his nation’s old ally, England, he was enabled to raise a loan in the young queen’s interest, and hastened to the Azores, where the influential exiled Portuguese had established a Council of Regency, in the name of Maria da Gloria. For this act of hostility to Dom Miguel they had been visited by a war 1833-1834 fleet sent to the Azores by the tyrant, which, however, they were fortunate enough to fight off and repel. At the ex-emperor’s coming he found no difficulty in raising an army of adherents, over 7,000 in number, and with them, and the money he had raised in England, Pedro set sail for Oporto. Here the Portuguese, sick of Miguel and his infamous régime, heartily rallied to the young queen’s cause; but Miguel’s forces, and the following of autocracy at his beck, were soon at the gates of the city, and laid siege to the place.

The conflict that ensued was a long and harrowing one, for the besieged suffered from famine, while the besiegers were decimated by cholera breaking out among them. At length the Miguelite fleet which invested the city on its sea front was defeated, and another section of it, later on, off Cape St. Vincent. The army of besiegers was twice badly beaten, in March, 1833, and in July, when the Pedroites raised the siege and got abroad in the country, it was put to rout and the capital was entered. In the next year Dom Pedro summoned his daughter to Lisbon, and her accession as Queen Maria II. was recognized by England, France, and Spain. The last-named country aided Maria’s cause by sending two Spanish armies to Portugal to uphold the young queen’s interests and crush the Miguelites. This was finally achieved in May, 1834, at Evora-Monte, when Dom Miguel surrendered, abandoned all right to the Portuguese throne, and with the promise of a pension left the kingdom.

Queen Maria II., although still young, was declared of age, and met the Cortes, having previously appointed her loyal adherent, Palmella, now a duke, president of the Executive. The Cortes declared the throne forever forfeit to Dom Miguel and his heirs, and forbade them, on pain of death, to return to Portugal. It, moreover, put under ban, and indeed abolished, the friar orders that had espoused, and interestedly and actively aided, the Miguelite cause. But the return of peace, with the promise of much usefulness to the country as the result of the new régime and of Palmella’s beneficent system of parliamentary government, was not long to gladden the heart of the queen’s paternal counselor and wise adviser, for towards the close of the year (1834) Pedro died near Lisbon, worn out by his anxieties and solicitudes for his daughter’s welfare, at the same time leaving behind him an honored name dear to the best and most patriotic people of the nation.

The death of the good Pedro of Brazil and the fall of his ambitious empire in the latter country were circumstances not only1835-1847 sadly adverse to Maria II.’s interests in the motherland, but, with the political strife that ensued, were unfavorable to the stability of monarchy in Portugal. Though the house of Braganza recovered for the time from the shocks it had received by these events, the throne for many years seemed to totter, while the state of the nation’s finances became deplorable, and its credit in the bourses of Europe bad. With the strifes of factions at the capital and the country districts overrun and distracted by guerrillas and bandits, Portugal throughout this reign had an unhappy experience. In spite of this, the young queen, as the nation wanted an heir to the throne, within a short time twice entered the bonds of wedlock, marrying, first, Augustus, Duke of Leuchtenberg, and, on his death, within a year, allying herself with Duke Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg, nephew of Leopold of the Belgians. The latter the queen made commander-in-chief of the army, and under him there was soon need of the services of the troops, as serious disturbances broke out at the capital over the political complexion of affairs, with an urgent demand for a revision of the constitution. Before this was acceded to there was considerable fighting in Lisbon, though quiet for a time reigned, when the constitution of 1838, a modification of that of 1822, was granted. For four years the new instrument of government worked fairly well, until a demand was made upon the Executive for a revival of the Oporto charter of 1826. Political pressure caused the charter to be adopted, especially as many influential people clamored for it, among them being the Duke of Terceira and Costa Cabral, the latter, after a change of government, becoming president of the cabinet, and, later on, Count of Thomar.

A further outbreak occurred shortly after this, instigated by a third party in the state, the Septembrists, who sought to control the administration of affairs. So serious did it become that much fighting ensued, with an attempt to elevate Saldanha, the statesman and general, who again came to power. Still another rising followed, which brought on the wretched war of Maria da Fonte. Through foreign intervention it was, however, ended in 1847, when by the convention of Granada an amnesty was declared. Under Saldanha’s administration, two years later, the wheel of fate, put in motion by the Count of Thomar, again upset the government and seated the count in office, only to be overturned once more 1851-1876 by Saldanha in 1851, with the army at his back. The following year saw some return to stability in Portuguese affairs, with a new revision of the charter and concessions made to the radical party in the state. The era of tumult closed speedily after this, with the death of Maria II., in November, 1853, and the assumption of the regency, on behalf of Pedro, the heir-apparent, by Ferdinand, Maria da Gloria’s widower-husband. In 1855 the young king came of age and into the line of succession as Pedro V., marrying, two years later, the Princess Stephanie of Hohenzollern.

Pedro V. assumed the government of Portugal in 1855, as we have said, but did not live long to rule, as six years later he fell a victim to cholera, which, with a calamitous outbreak of yellow fever, at this period ravaged Lisbon, then in a most unsanitary condition. The era, politically, was a vast improvement over that of Maria II. The country, with freedom from strife and convulsion, made much advancement; while literature sufficiently felt the calm of the time to burgeon out afresh after a long period of lethargy. The only important event of a disturbing character during Pedro’s era was the threatened invasion of the Tagus by a fleet sent by Napoleon III. to demand monetary compensation for the seizure of a French vessel by the Portuguese authorities at Mozambique in 1858. Portugal complied with the demand, yet the government held that there was injustice in this, since the vessel in question was seized because it had, under a thin disguise, been engaged in the contraband slave trade off the African coast.

The successor on the throne to Pedro was his brother, Dom Luis, who, after a brief period under the regency of Ferdinand, came to the crown in 1861, and married shortly afterwards Maria, a daughter of Victor Emmanuel, king of Italy. The political parties acquiesced patriotically in the new régime, though the veteran statesman, Saldanha, now almost the last of the old party leaders, appeared menacingly one day at court in 1870, and insisted that King Luis should dismiss his chief minister, the Duke of Loulé. The complaisant king wisely humored the old veteran, now a duke, by giving him a seat in the cabinet, after which he dispatched him to London, as Portuguese ambassador at the court of St. James, where he died in the year 1876.

For the next twenty-eight years Portugal made uninterrupted strides in national advancement, Luis I. reigning peacefully throughout this lengthened period, and dying, to the kingdom’s 1876-1889 great regret, in October, 1889. Ten years before this the flight of Isabella of Spain and the revolution that followed that event brought up the question of a suitable sovereign for the Spanish throne. Among the names under consideration at Madrid was that of Ferdinand of Portugal, the husband of the late Maria da Gloria. The offer was made to him, but declined, when Amadeus, Duke of Aosta, the candidate of Prim, was finally chosen and accepted the crown. The incident shows the degree of favor with which Spain regarded this member of the Portuguese royal family, and how near an approach was then made to the possible and desirable union of the two old countries in the Peninsula under one government. The opportunity of federation was, fortunately or unfortunately, let slip at this crisis, and was not renewed, as it was hoped it would be, during the early seventies, when Spain was oscillating between a monarchy and a republic.

The successor of Luis I. of Portugal was his oldest son, Dom Carlos, born in 1863, who was crowned in 1889, taking the title of Carlos (Charles) I. He was the third of the line of the Braganza-Coburg family. In 1886, three years before coming to the throne, he married Marie Amélie, daughter of Philippe, Duc d’Orleans, Comte de Paris, and had issue two sons, Luis Philippe, Duke of Braganza (born 1887), and Manuel (born 1889). On Charles I.’s coming to the crown, republican sympathies and aspirations in the kingdom were exercised over the dethronement in Brazil of the king’s great uncle, Emperor Pedro III, and the reversion of the country to the status of a republic. Beyond a flutter in democratic circles in Lisbon and Oporto, Portugal, however, remained loyal to monarchy, thanks to the popular representative institutions which the country at last enjoyed and in spite of the strong socialistic element in the chief cities, which fortunately was not now revolutionary in character.

The government is still according to the Constitutional Charter granted by Pedro IV in 1826, though altered by the Cortes in 1852, in 1885, and in 1896, and with electoral reforms and a remodeling of the house of peers dating from 1895. Like Spain a hereditary monarchy, Portugal recognizes descent in the female line. The government, in addition to the legislative, executive, and judicial functions, includes a “moderating” power vested in the sovereign.

Primary education is compulsory by law, but the law, it must be admitted, is not enforced, and of the children of the lower classes1889-1907 only a small percentage can be said to be regular school attendants. The Roman Catholic Church is the state religion, but all forms of worship are tolerated.

To-day continental Portugal consists of six natural provinces, with the Azores and Madeiras, considered as an integral part of the kingdom, making eight provinces in all, and an area of 35,490 square miles. The northern provinces may be said to be more flourishing than the southern, but a glance at the statistics of recent years shows conclusively that the natural wealth of the little coast-clinging country has by no means been made use of. Nearly 46 per cent. of the acreage is reported as waste, and the estimate for pasture and fallow lands represents another 26.7 per cent. Wide tracts, it is asserted, lie neglected but capable of profitable cultivation. On the other hand it must be admitted that the country is at serious disadvantage in its lack of adequate coal supply and the general scarcity of fuel. Though rich in other and rarer minerals the lack of coal which in general regulates the cheapness of transportation facilities, accounts in large part for the lack of development of the country’s natural resources.

In 1904 a cabinet crisis occurred over the question of sending an expedition against the natives rebelling in Portuguese South Africa. Castro became premier and under him was formed a new administration. In November a treaty was signed with China, looking to commercial relations with Macao at the mouth of the Canton River. In the same year an arbitration treaty was signed with Great Britain and another with the United States of America. On the whole, but little remains to be chronicled of Portuguese history for the last few years. The visits of the sovereign to King Edward VII. of England, in 1902, and again in 1904, and his own exchange of courtesies with President Loubet of France in 1905, are of importance only as indicating the cordial relations now existing between Portugal and the European nations.

At the beginning of 1907, there were no funds on hand to meet the expenses of the state, and the government brought into play the unwritten law which allows the king to carry on affairs, for at least three years, without summoning a parliament. In May, 1907, the premier, Dom J. F. C. Franco, attempted to allay the popular excitement caused by this action of the king with a statement 1889-1910 that his administrative dictatorship was but temporary, and when the various political parties had learned to work in unison a parliament would be summoned. The newspapers in the towns started an agitation against Premier Franco, who in return, with the sanction of the king, forbade any criticism of the government and suppressed those newspapers which violated the decree. General elections were promised by the government for the early part of March, 1908.

But on February 1, 1908, as King Carlos and Queen Amalia were driving from the railway station to the palace with their two sons, several shots were fired at the party by assassins, and the king and the crown-prince were both killed. Many believe that the rule of Premier Franco was the aggravation that caused the assassination.

The king’s second son, Prince Manuel, succeeded to the throne under the title of Manuel II. Premier Franco resigned and left the country. A new ministry was formed under Admiral Ferreira de Amaral, an Independent. By the end of February all the repressive measures of Franco were repealed. The elections were held as previously promised and were the cause of some rioting in Lisbon. The Cortes was summoned on April 29. In August was passed a tariff bill doubling the duties on articles from countries which discriminated against Portugal. On December 21, the municipal council of Lisbon discovered that $7,000,000 of the city’s funds had been misappropriated. The friends of Franco took advantage of this scandal to reorganize, and on December 23, 1908, a new ministry was formed with Pereira de Lima, a former minister of foreign affairs, as premier.

In 1909 the question of the young king’s marriage was uppermost in interest in the affairs of Portugal.

The new progressive cabinet formed on December 22, 1909, was headed by Señor Beisao, and met with popular approval. The most important matter before it during the latter part of 1909 and early part of 1910 was the settlement of the boundary lines of Macao, the seaport on the Chinese coast, which it has occupied since the early part of the seventeenth century. China having refused to submit the question to arbitration, Portugal is equally determined not to adjust the difficulty this way and it still (1910) remains unsettled. Portugal, too, suffered from the heavy storms during the latter part of 1909, but not as seriously as France.

Of recent years the kingdom has lost, in the way of emigration to old colony of Brazil, many thousands of its enterprising population,1889-1910 who thus seek to escape, with other financial exactions, the burdensome taxation imposed to meet interest on the large national debt, and at the same time live under prosperous conditions in “a greater Portugal,” as Brazil is admiringly termed.

The kingdom’s loss in population to its other colonies has not been great, though their founding and maintenance (if we except the rich but now independent Brazil) has cost the mother country, first and last, a large amount of money. The dependencies now left to her are situated in Asia and Africa, and include Goa, on the Malabar coast; Danão, on the coast, one hundred miles north of Bombay, with the small island of Diu, about one hundred and fifty miles west of Danão. The trade of these possessions is chiefly with some adjacent islands, at the mouth of the Canton River. Their trade is mainly in Chinese hands, and consists of the now dwindling exports of opium. She also owns Timor, a Portuguese settlement on the eastern section of the island of that name in the Malay Archipelago, with a small island attached. The chief products here are coffee and wax. Another dependency is Portuguese Guinea, on the coast of Senegambia, with the adjacent archipelago of Bijagoz, and the island of Bolamo. From the chief port, that of Bissau, are exported wax, rubber, oil seeds, hides, and ivory. Portugal owns the Cape Verde Islands, the capital of which is Praia, with a considerable trade, together with the islands of St. Thomas and Prince, the combined provinces of which are under a governor. Angola, in the Congo region of Western Africa, with over a thousand miles of coast line, the capital of which is St. Paul de Loanda, is another possession of Portugal. Angola has 470 miles of railway open with a system of telegraphs and is rich in mineral wealth, besides its export trade in rubber and coffee.^[39] In Portuguese East Africa, with the three districts of Mozambique, Zambesi, and Lourenço Marques, the nation has an important dependency, with a trade in rubber, wax, ivory, and various ores. The colony has also the modern adjuncts of railways and about a thousand miles of telegraph line. The combined area of all these colonial possessions is 802,952 English square miles, with a population 1889-1910 estimated to exceed 9,000,000, chiefly natives. Few of them, however, do more than pay the cost of their local administration, and can therefore hardly be deemed valuable to the motherland. In Africa her sons have been adventurous in undertaking exploration, and, like Serpa Pinto, have accomplished not a little in penetrating and opening up vast sections of the Dark Continent. In doing so, the question of international boundaries has frequently come up, to the embarrassment of the kingdom and its local representatives. Mozambique and Angola, as historical students know, were originally ports of call for the pioneer fleets of Portugal on their venturesome early voyages to India, when they were not only occupied by her sons, but strongly fortified.

As a modern colonial power, Portugal, the nation that produced Bartholomew Diaz, Magellan, and Vasco da Gama, it will be seen, has a respectable status, far exceeding that now of her Peninsular neighbor, since Spain, by the war with the United States, has been shorn of her colonial possessions, with those she parted with for a monetary consideration to Germany. Spain’s possessions abroad are now confined to those in Africa, which, though nearly 244,000 square miles in extent, have a population of only 136,000. She has also the Canary Islands, which for administrative purposes are considered part of the Spanish kingdom, with the country on the banks of the rivers Muni and Campo, but the ownership is contested by France. In literature and art, Spain, on the other hand, has far surpassed Portugal in achievement, if we except the immortal “Lusiad” of Camoëns; though in architecture she makes a creditable showing, not only in Lisbon, but in various other cities of the kingdom, especially at Cintra, Braga, Evora, and Coimbra. Nor, comparatively speaking, is she so decadent a power as Spain, while her people are far less turbulent and treacherous. What her future may be it is not within human power safely to predict; but her destiny may yet be a hopeful and bright one, if, with righteousness and true patriotism, she pursues the paths of peace and of progressive national, intellectual, and economic development.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

The sources of Spanish history include the meager chronicles of Christian ecclesiastics and the more elaborate narratives of Moorish historians. Reliable accounts from the Moorish side commence with the collection of these latter in the famous “Mohammedan Dynasties,” translated by Don Pascual de Gayangos. The chronicles of the early Christian writers, Isidorus Pacensis (754), Sebastian of Salamanca (866-910), the monks of Silas and Albelda (881-883), etc., all are included in Florez’s monumental work “Espana Sagrada,” which represents what now remains of old Spanish history. Fortunately this noble beginning has been brought down continuously to 1850, constituting now a veritable and comparatively virgin mine of historic richness. The chronicles of Alfonso X and his successors carry the record to Alfonso’s reign. But the modern spirit of investigation may be said to have only just begun in Spain. Voluminous and valuable as are the historic documents available, unfortunately they are not always easily accessible. It remains for a future historian to collect and compare, and when in addition the scattered and ill-classified material to be found in Spanish archives has been made judicious use of, we may look for what as yet does not exist in any language,—a full, comprehensive, sequential history of the Spanish Peninsula and its people.

Burke, Ulick Ralph.—“History of Spain to the Death of Ferdinand.” 2d ed. (Hume). New York, 1900.

Hale, Edward Everett, and Hale, Susan.—“Spain” (Story of the Nations). New York, 1899.

Hume, M. A. S.—“The Spanish People, Their Origin, Growth and Influence.” New York, 1901.

Lafuente, Modesta, and Valera, Juan.—“Historia general de España.” 28 vols. Barcelona.

Lembke and Schäfer.—“Geschichte von Spanien.” 3 vols. Hamburg, 1831-1861.

Oliveira-Martins, J. P.—“Historia de Portugal.” 5th ed. 2 vols. Lisbon, 1880.

Baumgarten, Hermann.—“Geschichte Spaniens vom Ausbruch des französischen Revolution bis auf unsere Tage.” 3 vols. Leipsic, 1860-1871.

Ballaert, William.—“The Wars of Succession in Portugal and Spain from 1826 to 1840; with a Résumé of the Political History of Portugal and Spain to the Present Time.” 2 vols. London, 1870.

Brown, J. M.—“Historical Review of the Revolutions of Portugal since the Close of the Peninsular War.”

Coppée, Henry.—“History of the Conquest of Spain by the Arab Moors, with a Sketch of the Civilization They Achieved and Imparted to Europe.” 2 vols. Boston, 1881.

Coxe, Archdeacon William.—“Memoirs of the Kings of Spain of the House of Bourbon from the Accession of Philip V. to the Death of Charles III. (1700-1788).” 2d edition. London, 1815. 5 vols.

Dunlap, John.—“Memoirs of Spain during the Reigns of Philip IV. and Charles II. (1621-1700).” 2 vols. Edinburgh, 1834.

Hume, M. A. S.—“Spain, its Greatness and Decay (1479-1788).” Cambridge, 1897.

——“The Year after the Armada and other Historical Studies.” New York, 1896.

James I., King of Aragon.—The Chronicles of, written by Himself. Translated from the Catalan by John Forster, with Historical Introduction, etc., by Pascual de Gayangos. 2 vols. London, 1883.

Lacroix, Paul.—“Beautés de l’histoire de la domination des Arabes et de Maures en Espagne et en Portugal.” 1824.

Landmann, George.—“Historical, Military, and Picturesque Observations on Portugal.” London, 1818. 2 vols.

Lane-Poole, S., and Gilman, A.—“Story of the Moors in Spain” (Story of the Nations). New York, 1891.

Latimer, Elizabeth Wormeley.—“Spain in the Nineteenth Century.” Chicago, 1897.

MacMurdo, M. M., and Monteiro, M.—“History of Portugal.” 3 vols. London, 1888.

Marliani, M. de.—“Histoire Politique de l’Espagne Moderne, suivie d’un Aperçu sur les Finances.” 2 vols. Paris, 1840.

Medeiros, Tavares de.—“Das Staatsrecht des Königreichs Portugal.” Freiburg, 1892.

Mommsen, Theodor.—“Provinces of the Roman Empire.” Eng. translation. New York, 1887.

Napier, Sir William Francis Patrick.—“History of the War in the Peninsula and the South of France.” London, 1883.

Prescott, William H.—“History of the Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella.” 3 vols. Philadelphia.

Southey, Robert.—“Chronicle of the Cid.” Translated from the Spanish, with an introduction by Henry Morley. 1894.

Wallis, S. T.—“Spain, Her Institutions, Politics, and Public Men.” Baltimore, 1896.

Watts, H. E.—“The Christian Recovery of Spain” (Story of the Nations). New York, 1894.

Wilson, H. W.—“The Downfall of Spain: Naval History of the Spanish-American War.” London, 1899.

Yonge, Charlotte M.—“The Story of the Christians and Moors in Spain.” New York, 1878.

Bermudez, J. A. Cean.—“Sumario de las Antigüedades Romanas en España.” Madrid, 1832.

Clarke, H. Butler.—“Spanish Literature: An Elementary Handbook.” New York, 1893.

Garcia, Francisco Blanco.—“Literatura Española en el Siglo XIX.” 2 vols. Madrid, 1891.

Justi, Carl.—“Diego Velasquez and His Times.” Translated by A. H. Keane. London, 1889.

Kelly, James Fitzmaurice.—“A History of Spanish Literature.” New York, 1898.

Menéndez y Pelayo.—“Historia de las Ideas Esteticas en España.” Madrid, 1886.

Plummer, Mary Wright.—“Contemporary Spain as Shown by Her Novelists.” London, 1899.

Rivadeneyra.—“Biblioteca de autores españoles.” 71 vols. Madrid, 1846-1880.

Biddle, A. J. D.—“The Land of the Wine” (Madeira Islands). 2 vols. Philadelphia, 1901.

Elliot, Frances Minto.—“Diary of an Idle Woman in Spain.” 2 vols. London, 1884.

Finch, Henry T.—“Spain and Morocco: Studies in Local Color.” New York, 1891.

Smith, F. Hopkinson.—“Well Worn Roads of Spain, Holland, and Italy.” Boston, 1886.

Stoddard, Charles Augustus.—“Spanish Cities, with Glimpses of Gibraltar and Tangier.” New York, 1892.

INDEX

Abazuza: battle of (1873), 514

Abdalkerim: campaign against Alfonso the Chaste, 73

Abdalla ben Abderahman: revolts against Alhakem, 72;

revolts against Abderahman II, 73

Abdalla ben Abdelmelic: his campaign against the Gauls, 72

Abdalla ben Balkin, king of Granada: dethroned, 89

Abdalla ben Humusqui: defeats the Almohades, 95

Abdalla ben Malchi: campaign against Alfonso the Chaste, 73

Abdalla ben Mohammed, caliph of Cordova: reign of, 75

Abdalla ben Mohammed el Zagai, king of Granada: reign of, 121

Abdallah Abu Mohammed, surnamed Aladel, Mohammedan ruler: reign of, 102

Abdelasis ben Muza: his campaign in Spain, 51;

succeeds to command in Spain, 63

Abdelbar, hagib of Granada: revolt of, 119

Abdelmelic, governor of Seville: crushes rebellion of Yussuf, 69

Abdelmelic ben Cotan: made emir of Spain, 65

Abdelmelic ben Giafar, surnamed Amad Dola: reign of, 91

Abdelmelic ben Mohammed: made regent of Cordova, 79

Abdelmumen, iman of the Almohades: reign of, 95

Abderahman I, caliph of Cordova: his conquests in Catalonia, 219

Abderahman (II) ben Alhakem, caliph of Cordova: reign of, 73

Abderahman (III) ben Mohammed, caliph of Cordova: reign of, 76;

campaign against Ordoño II of Leon, 135;

invades Navarre (921 A.D.), 198

Abderahman (IV) Almortadi, caliph of Cordova: proclaimed king, 81

Abderahman (V) ben Hixem, caliph of Cordova: reign of, 81

Abderahman ben Abdalla: made emir of Spain, 63;

his campaign against the Franks, 64

Abderahman ben Abdalla, surnamed Almudafar: crushes rebellion of his brothers, 76

Abderahman ben Mohammed: made hagib of Cordova, 79

Abderahman ben Ocba: at siege of Cordova, 66;

at battle of Calatrava, 66;

made caliph of Cordova, 67

Aben Aboo: see Diego Lopez ben Aboo

Aben Alafia, emir of Mequinez: captures Fez, 76

Aben Alhamar: see Mohammed I, king of Granada

Aben Dylnun, king of Toledo: besieges Cordova, 86

Abrantes: battle of (1176), 98

Abu Abdalla, hagib of Granada: murdered, 111

Abu Abdalla ben Muley: revolt of, 121

Abu Abdalla Mohammed ben Hud: revolts against Moors, 102

Abu Amram: his campaigns in Andalusia, 97

Abu Bekir, wali of Suz: sent against Mohammed ben Abdalla, 94

Abu Giafar, king of Saragossa: forms alliance with Yussef, 90;

defeated by Alfonso I of Aragon, 91

Abu Mohammed el Baxir: his campaign against Ali ben Yussef, 94

Abu Said: conspiracy of, 116;

usurps throne of Granada, 116

Abu Said, king of Fez: accession of, 117

Abul Cassem, hagib of Granada: negotiates the surrender of Granada, 124

Abul Hassan, wali of Carmona: at war with the Christians, 106, 114

Abul Melic Abdelwahid, Mohammedan ruler: reign of, 102

Aden: siege of, 329

Adrian VI, Pope: acts as agent for Charles V in Spain, 339;

made regent of Castile, 346;

invested with pontifical crown, 350

Adrian, Roman emperor: condition of Spain under, 26

Aemilianus, St.; see Milan, St.

Afranius, campaigns in Spain, 22

Agacucho: battle of (1824), 519

Agilan, king of the Goths: reign of, 40

Agriculture: in ancient Spain, 5

Aix-la-Chapelle, Treaties of: (1668), 381;

(1748), 412

Al Raxid ben Mohammed: advises alliance with Alfonso VI of Leon, 89

Alarcon: battle of (1195), 99, 147, 204, 237

Alaric (son of Euric), king of the Goths: reign of, 38

Albaqui: attempts to reconcile the Moriscos with Philip II of Spain, 371

Alberoni, Giulio: negotiates marriage of Philip V of Spain, 404;

intrigues of, 405

Albert, Archduke: made regent of Portugal, 453

Albert of Austria: Philip II of Spain cedes the Low Countries to, 363

Albuquerque, Don: career of, 162

Albuquerque, Alfonso de: his voyage to India, 327;

viceroy of India, 329

Albuquerque, Francisco de: his voyage to India, 327

Alcaçar do Sal: sieges of (1158), 275;

(1217), 278

Alcaçar Seguer (Alcazar-Seguer): siege of (1457), 315;

battle of (1578), 445

Alcala de Henares, University of: founded, 342

Alcassim ben Hamad: at war with Solyman, 80;

seizes throne of Cordova, 81

Alcolea Bridge: battle of (1868), 508

Alcoraz: battle of (1096), 232

Aledran, count of Barcelona: reign of, 222

Alexander IV, Pope: supports claims of Alfonso X to the imperial dignity, 153;

issues a bull against Alfonso III of Portugal, 282

Alexander I, emperor of Russia: signs Peace of Tilsit, 485

Alfarrobeira: battle of, 313

Alfonso I, king of Aragon: defeats Abu Giafar, 91;

his campaigns against Moors, 95;

at war with Leon and Castile, 144;

accession to throne of Navarre, 201;

accession to throne of Aragon, 233;

death of, 145

Alfonso II, king of Aragon: reign of, 236

Alfonso III, king of Aragon: reign of, 246

Alfonso IV, king of Aragon: reign of, 249

Alfonso (V) the Wise, king of Aragon: attempts to reconcile Juan I of Navarre and his son, 214;

reign of, 262

Alfonso II, king of Naples: reign of, 269

Alfonso, count of Portugal: reign of, 273

Alfonso I, king of Portugal: accession of, 97;

reign of, 274

Alfonso II, king of Portugal: reign of, 278

Alfonso III, king of Portugal: made regent, 280;

reign of, 281

Alfonso (IV) the Brave, king of Portugal: rebellion of, 283;

reign of, 284

Alfonso V, king of Portugal: aids Castilian rebellion, 184;

reign of, 310

Alfonso VI, king of Portugal: reign of, 464

Alfonso (I) the Catholic, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 131

Alfonso (II) the Chaste, king of Asturias and Leon: revolt of, 72;

reign of, 132

Alfonso (III) the Great, king of Asturias and Leon: at war with Mohammed I, 74;

reign of, 134

Alfonso (IV) the Monk, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 136

Alfonso V, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 138;

death of, 272

Alfonso (VI) the Valiant, king of Leon and Castile: at war with the Mohammedans, 87;

accession to throne of Leon, 142;

accession to throne of Castile, 143;

his conquests in Portugal, 272

Alfonso (VII) Raymond, king of Leon and Castile: his campaigns against the Saracens, 96;

reduces Baeza, 97;

made lord of Galicia, 143;

reign of, 145;

his invasions of Navarre, 202;

forms alliance with Raymundo of Aragon, 236

Alfonso VIII, king of Castile: at battle of Alarcon, 99;

reign of, 146

Alfonso IX, king of Leon: reign of, 147;

marries Teresa of Portugal, 277

Alfonso (X) el Sabio, king of Leon and Castile: reign of, 108, 152

Alfonso XI, king of Leon and Castile: besieges Gibraltar, 112;

campaign of, against Moors, 115;

reign of, 158;

at war with Alfonso IV of Portugal, 284

Alfonso XII, king of Spain: birth of, 506;

reign of, 514

Alfonso XIII, king of Spain: reign of, 517;

crowned, 521

Alfonso, son of Joam II of Portugal: marries Isabella of Castile, 324;

death of, 324

Alfonso Henriques: takes up arms against Alfonso IV of Portugal, 284

Algeziras: siege of (1342-1343), 115, 209

Alhakem (I) ben Abdelmelic, caliph of Cordova: reign of, 72

Alhakem (II) ben Abderahman, caliph of Cordova: reign of, 78

Alhambra, The: built, 110;

captured by the Christians, 150

Alhange: siege of (917 A.D.), 135

Alhaur ben Abderahman: made emir of Spain, 63

Ali ben Hamad: at war with Solyman, 80;

proclaimed king of Mohammedan Spain, 81

Ali ben Yussef, caliph of Cordova: reign of, 91

Alicante: siege of (1691), 384

Aljubarota: battle of (1385), 174, 299

Alkassim ben Abdalla: rebellions of, 76

Almamun Abu Ali, Mohammedan ruler: reign of, 102

Almansor: see Mohammed ben Abdalla

Almanza: battle of, 398

Almeida, Francisco de, viceroy of the Indies: reign of, 328

Almenara: battle of (1710), 399

Almeria: siege of (1146), 236

Almohades, Dynasty of: established in Spain, 97

Almondhir ben Mohammed: campaigns of, against Omar, 75;

reign of, 75

Almoravides, Don Garcia de: rebellion of, 208

Almuñecar: battles of (755 A.D.), 68;

(1014), 80

Alvaro de Luna: made constable, 176;

fate of, 179

Alvaro Nuñez de Lara, Count: regent of Castile, 149

Alva, Fernando Alvarez de Toledo, Duke of: his campaigns in Italy, 354;

his campaigns in the Low Countries, 359

Alxaman: his campaigns against the Christians, 129

Amadeus I, king of Spain: reign of, 512

Amalaric, Gothic king: establishes his court in Spain, 39;

marries Clotilda, 40

Amiens, Peace of (1802), 483

Amsterdam: siege of, 360

Ana, daughter of Philip III of Spain: marries Louis XIII of France, 375

Andeca, king of the Suevi: consigned to a monastery, 42

Andeiro, Joam Fernando: sketch of, 293

Angoulême, Louis Antoine de Bourbon, duke of: his campaign in Spain, 495

Anjou, Francis, duke of: schemes for the throne of the Netherlands, 361

Anjou, René, duke of: claims throne of Naples, 264

Antequera: battle of, 110

Antistius: his campaigns in Spain, 24

Antoninus Pius: condition of Spain under, 26, 29

Antonio, king of Portugal: claims throne, 448;

proclaimed king, 450

Aragon, Kingdom of: history of, 230

Aranda, Pedro Pablo Abarca y Bolea, Conde de: administration of, 420

Armada, The Invincible: destruction of, 364

Arsilla: siege of, 316

Artois, Robert, Count d’: his campaign in Navarre, 208

Asturians: description of, 7

Atace: leads the invasion of the Alans into Spain, 35

Ataide, Luis de: made viceroy of the Indies, 458

Ataide, Nuno Fernandos de: campaigns of, in Africa, 334;

death of, 335

Ataide, Pedro de: attempts to assassinate Joam II of Portugal, 321

Atapuerca: battle of (1054), 200

Ataulphus: leads Gothic invasion of Spain, 36

Athalaric, Gothic king: succeeds Theodoric II, 39

Athanagild, king of the Goths: reign of, 40, 50

Attila, king of the Huns: leads invasion of Spain, 38

Augustus, Roman emperor: condition of Spain under, 24

Augustus, duke of Leuchtenberg: marries Maria II of Portugal, 537

Aumale, Mademoiselle d’: marries Alfonso VI of Portugal, 467;

marries Pedro II of Portugal, 468

Aurelio (Aurelius), king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 131

Austerlitz: battle of (1805), 484

Aveiro, Joam Alfonso de: explorations of, 323

Ayub ben Habib: becomes emir of Spain, 63

Azamor: siege of (1513), 333

Azcarraga, General: ministry of, 521

Azis ben Abdelmelic, wali of Lorca: refuses to acknowledge supremacy of Castile, 104

Baeza: siege of (1146), 97, 236

Baleg ben Bakir: expelled from Africa, 65;

his campaigns in Spain, 66

Barcelona: captured by Christians (801 A.D.), 219;

sieges of (1691), 384;

(1694), 384;

(1705), 395;

(1714), 402

Barreto, Francisco: viceroy of the Indies, 437

Basel, Treaty of (1795), 482

Beatrix of Portugal: marries Juan I of Castile, 173, 291;

proclaimed queen of Portugal, 295

Beatrix de Guzman: marries Alfonso III of Portugal, 281

Beaumarchais, Eustace de: made governor of Navarre, 207

Belisarius: captures the Balearic Isles, 53

Ben Alarabi: sends embassy to Charlemagne, 70, 218

Bera, count of Barcelona: reign of, 219

Berengaria, queen of Castile: marries Alfonso IX of Leon, 148;

regent of Castile, 149

Berengaria of Navarre: marries Richard I of England, 203

Berengario I, count of Barcelona: reign of, 226

Berengario, brother of Raymundo III of Barcelona: attempts to gain the fief of Barcelona, 226

Berlin Decrees: issued, 484

Bemohi, king of the Jalofs: forms alliance with Joam II of Portugal, 323

Bermudez, Gonzalo: encourages Mohammedan invasion of Leon, 138

Bermudo (Veremundo) I, surnamed the Deacon, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 132

Bermudo (Vermundo) II, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 137

Bermudo (Vermundo) III, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 139;

at war with Ferdinand of Castile, 200

Bernard, Atto, viscount de Beziers: usurps the fief of Carcassonne, 227

Bernardo, count of Barcelona: reign of, 220

Bertram de la Cueva: his campaign against the French, 349

Berwick, James Fitzjames, Duke of: commands French army in Spain, 393;

invades Spain, 406

Bertrand du Guesclin: joins conspiracy against Pedro the Cruel, 166

Bilbao: siege of (1835), 497

Blanche, queen of Navarre: regent for Jeanne, 207;

reign of, 212;

made regent of Sicily, 259;

marries Juan II of Aragon, 261;

accession to throne of Navarre, 263

Blanche de Bourbon: marries Pedro the Cruel, 161;

imprisonment of, 163;

death of, 165

Bonaparte, Joseph: made king of Naples, 486;

made king of Spain, 486, 528

Bonaparte, Louis: made king of Naples, 486

Bonaparte, Napoleon: see Napoleon (I) Bonaparte

Boniface VIII, Pope: attempts to arrange relations between Jayme II of Aragon and Charles of Anjou, 247

Boniface IX, Pope: foments rebellion in Sardinia, 259

Boniface, Raymond: at the siege of Seville (1247), 106

Bonnivet, Guillaume Gouffier de: his campaigns in Spain, 349

Borba, Francisco Coutinho de: defeats Moors, 324

Bordeaux: siege of (1130), 234

Borello, count of Barcelona: reign of, 225

Bourbon, House of: rules in Spain, 386

Braganza, House of: rules in Portugal, 462

Braganza, Alfonso, Duke of: created duke, 312;

leader of discontented nobles, 319

Braganza, Constantine de: viceroy of the Indies, 458

Braganza, Joam, Duke of: see Joam IV, king of Portugal

Bravo, Gonsalez: administration of, 508

Brazil: discovered, 326, 459;

wins her independence, 519, 534

Brihuega: battle of (1710), 399

Bull-fights in ancient Spain, 5

Burgos: battle of (1054), 141

Burgoyne, John: his campaign in Spain, 473

Buriana: siege of (1233), 241

Busaco: battle of (1809), 486

Byng, John: defeats Spanish off the Sicilian coast, 406

Cabral, Costa, count of Thomar: desires the revival of the Oporto Charter, 537

Cabral, Pedro Alvares: discovers Brazil, 326

Cadiz: founded, 12;

captured by the Carthaginians, 13;

surrendered to the Romans, 18;

captured by the allied forces (1702), 391

Caenza: siege of (1176), 98

Caesar, Caius Julius: his campaigns in Spain, 22

Cagliari: siege of (1326), 249

Calat Añosor (Calatanazar): battle of (1001), 78

Calatrava: battle of (736), 66;

siege of (1212), 100

Calderon, Rodrigo: administration of, 374

Calib ben Omar: at war with Almondhir, 75

Caligula, Caius: condition of Spain under, 25

Cam, Jayme: explorations of, 323

Cantabres: description of, 8

Cape Finisterre: battle of (1805), 484

Cape St. Vincent: battles of (1381), 173;

(1797), 483

Carcassonne: siege of, 39

Carisius: his campaigns in Spain, 25

Carlist Revolts: (1833), 497;

(1851), 503;

(1859), 507;

(1873), 513

Carlos (Charles) I, king of Portugal: reign of, 539

Carlos I, king of Spain: see Charles V, Holy Roman emperor

Carlos II, king of Spain: reign of, 380;

summary of condition of Spain under, 427

Carlos III, king of Spain: birth of, 405;

invested with Naples and Sicily, 409;

accession to Spanish throne, 414;

summary of condition of Spain under, 429

Carlos IV, king of Portugal: reign of, 481

Carlos V, Don: rebellions of, 496, 497

Carlos VII, Don: claims throne, 514

Carlos, son of Philip II of Spain: fate of, 372

Carlotta, daughter of Carlos III of Spain: marries Joam VI of Portugal, 418;

intrigues of, 534

Carmona: sieges of (713 A.D.), 51;

(1052), 86;

(1246), 106

Carrion: battle of the (1037), 140

Carthaginians: in Spain, 13

Carthagena: siege of, 18

Carvajal, Josef de: policy of, 413

Cassius Longinus, Caius: in command in Spain, 23

Castelar, Emilio: president of the republic, 513;

sketch of, 518

Castillo, Canovasdel: made prime minister, 514;

death of, 518

Castro: becomes premier, 540

Castro, Joam de: viceroy of the Indies, 436

Catalan Insurrection, 378

Catherina of Portugal: marries Charles II of England, 465

Catherine of Aragon: marriages of, 187

Catherine, queen of Navarre: reign of, 215

Cea: siege of (1055), 141

Celestine III, Pope: orders dissolution of marriage of Alfonso IX of Leon and Theresa of Portugal, 147

Celtiberians: origin of, 3;

description of, 11

Celts: invade Spanish peninsula, 3

Cervera y Topete, Pascual: at battle of Santiago, 520

Ceuta: sieges of (1415), 301;

(1464), 316

Châlons: battle of, 38

Charlemagne: invades Spain, 69, 132

Charles I, Holy Roman emperor: see Charlemagne

Charles (I) the Bald, Holy Roman emperor: education of, 221

Charles V, Holy Roman emperor: birth of, 188;

acknowledged as heir of Castile, 191;

accession to Spanish throne, 339;

accession to the imperial throne, 343;

marries Isabel of Portugal, 350;

resigns crowns, 351;

death of, 352;

summary of condition of Spain under, 423

Charles VI, Holy Roman emperor: at war with Spain, 388;

accession to imperial throne, 400

Charles I, king of England: visits Spain, 376;

concludes treaty with Joam IV of Portugal, 462 note

Charles I, king of France: see Charlemagne

Charles V, king of France: aids Enrique II against Pedro the Cruel, 166

Charles VIII, king of France: concludes treaty with Philip the Handsome, 189;

his relations with Ferdinand the Catholic, 190, 268

Charles (II) le Mauvais, king of Navarre: reign of, 210

Charles (III) the Noble, king of Navarre: reign of, 212

Charles I, king of Spain: see Charles V, Holy Roman emperor

Charles II, III, IV, V, and VII, of Spain: see Carlos II, III, IV, V, and VII

Charles XII, king of Sweden: forms alliance with Philip V of Spain, 406

Charles, prince of Viana: revolt of, 213

Charles Martel: at Battle of Tours, 64

Charles (I) of Anjou, king of the Two Sicilies: reign of, 244

Chile: wins her independence from Spain, 519

Chintila, king of the Goths: reign of, 44

Choiseul or Choiseul-Amboise, Étienne François, Duke de: expels Jesuits from France, 419

Cisneros, Ximines: made regent of Spain, 339

Claudius: condition of Spain under, 25

Clement VI, Pope: attempts to restore peace between Pedro IV of Aragon and Jayme of Majorca, 254

Clement XIV, Pope: refuses to allow Jesuits to settle in Italy, 419

Clinton, Sir William: keeps order in Portugal, 535

Clotilda, daughter of Clovis: marries Amalaric, 40

Clovis, king of the Franks: in war with the Goths, 39

Cochin: siege of, 470

Coelho, Pedro: death of, 289

Coepio, Quintus: his campaign in Spain, 19

Coimbra: siege of (1058), 142;

battle of (1810), 530

Coimbra, University of: modernized, 526

Colonna, Marco Antonio: at battle of Lepanto, 355

Columbus, Christopher: voyages of, 186

Conancio: encourages Mohammedan invasions of Leon, 138

Concha, Manuel, Marquis of Duero: in Carlist revolt, 514

Conradin, son of Conrad IV of Sicily: rebellion of, 244

Constança, daughter of Manfred of Sicily: marries Pedro III of Aragon, 243

Constans: his campaign in Spain, 35

Constantine the Great: condition of Spain under, 28

Constantius: his campaign against the Goths, 36

Constanza, daughter of Pedro IV of Aragon: declared heir to throne, 251

Copenhagen: battle of (1801), 529

Cordova: sieges of (711 A.D.), 50;

(736 A.D.), 65;

(755 A.D.), 68;

(1060), 86;

(1145), 97;

battle of (1089), 225

Corunna: battle of (1809), 486, 529

Coutinho, Vasco: warns Joam II of Portugal against conspirators, 321

Covilha, Pedro de: explorations of, 322

Cuesta: at Battle of Talavera, 530

Cunha, Nuno da: viceroy of the Indies, 434

Cunha, Pedro Vas da: sent to make conquests in Africa, 323

Dalrymple, Sir Hew: concludes convention of Cintra, 529

Daroca: battle of (1120), 233

Davalos, Fernando: arrested, 346

Dewey, George: at battle of Manila Bay, 520

Dias, Count Diego: takes up arms against accession of Ferdinand III of Castile, 151

Dias de Haro, Lope: career of, 157

Diaz, Bartholomeo: discovers the Cape of Good Hope, 323

Didius: defeated by Sertorius, 20

Diego, prince of Viseo: schemes for the throne of Portugal, 320

Diego Alguazil: plots ruin of Mohammed ben Humeya, 370

Diego Gomez, Don: at battle of Sepulveda, 144

Diego Lopez ben Aboo (Muley Abdalla): leader of Morisco revolt, 367;

submits, 369;

again joins the rebels, 370;

acknowledged as chief of the Moriscos, 370

Diego Nunez, count of Castile: revolt of, 136

Dinis, king of Portugal: reign of, 282

Diocletian: persecutes Christians, 31

Diu: sieges of (1529), 434;

(1537), 435

Domitian: condition of Spain under, 26

Domitius: defeated by Sertorius, 20

Doria, Andrea: at battle of Lepanto, 355

Drake, Sir Francis: his depredations on Spanish possessions, 363

Duarte (Edward), king of Portugal: reign of, 304

Dulce, General: rebels against Isabella II, 504

Eboric, king of the Suevi: consigned to a monastery, 42

Edward I, king of England: marries Eleanor of Castile, 152;

forms alliance with Alfonso III of Aragon, 247

Edward III, king of England: forms alliance with Charles the Bad of Navarre, 210, 211

Edward, the Black Prince: reinstates Pedro the Cruel, 167

Edward: see Duarte

Egilona, widow of Roderic: given as hostage to the Saracens, 52

Egmont, Count: attempts to gain the regency of the Low Countries, 357;

arrested and executed, 359

Eleanor of Castile: marries Edward I of England, 152

Eleanor: see Leonora

Eliott or Elliott, George Augustus: defends Gibraltar (1770), 417

Elizabeth, queen of England: aids Henry IV of France against Philip II of Spain, 356;

aids Protestant refugees from the Netherlands, 360;

attempts to restore Antonio to Portuguese throne, 454

Elizabeth, sister of Henry II of France: marries Philip II of Spain, 355

Elvas: battle of (1659), 465

Elvira, Doña, abbess of San Salvador convent: regent of Leon, 137

Enrique (Henry) I, king of Leon and Castile: reign of, 149

Enrique II, king of Leon and Castile: proclaimed king, 166;

his second conquest of the kingdom, 169;

reign of, 171;

at war with Navarre, 211

Enrique (III) the Infirm, king of Leon and Castile: reign of, 175

Enrique (IV) the Impotent, king of Leon and Castile: his campaigns against the Moors, 120;

at war with Juan II of Aragon, 178, 266;

reign of, 180

Enrique, Don, brother of Alfonso X: aids Alfonso X to crush revolt of nobles, 109

Enrique, Don, brother of Pedro the Cruel: rebellions of, 164

Enrique, Don, infante of Aragon: rebellions of, 176, 177

Ensenada, Zenon Silva, Marquis de: policy of, 413

Ermengaudo, count of Urgel: his campaign against the Mohammedans, 225

Ermenigild, career of, 41

Escovedo, Juan de: assassination of, 373

Espartero, Baldomero: his campaign against the Carlists, 497;

made regent of Spain, 500;

attempts to restore peaceful relations after revolution of 1854, 505

Estrées, Cardinal d’: sketch of, 392

Eudes: defeated by the Saracens, 64

Eugene of Savoy, Prince: his campaigns in Italy, 390

Eugenius III, Pope: opposes Neapolitan policy of Alfonso V of Aragon, 264

Eugenius IV, Pope: recognizes Alfonso V of Aragon as king of the Two Sicilies, 265

Euric, king of the Goths: reign of, 38

Evora, University of: founded, 449

Fabius: his campaigns in Spain, 22

Fadrique, grand master of Santiago: remonstrates with Pedro the Cruel, 162;

death of, 164

Family Compact (Family Treaty): concluded, 414;

Portugal joins, 416

Farnese, Alessandro, duke of Parma: see Parma, Alessandro Farnese, duke of

Favila, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 130

Felipe, Don: revolt of, 108;

becomes regent for Alfonso XI, 159

Ferag ben Ferag: leader of Morisco revolt, 367

Fernan Gonsalez, count of Castile: revolt of, 136

Fernando de Valor: see Mohammed ben Humeya

Ferdinand (I) the Just, king of Aragon and of Sicily: accession to throne of Aragon, 260

Ferdinand II, king of Aragon: see Ferdinand V, king of Spain

Ferdinand I, king of Naples: declared legitimate, 265;

accession of, 266;

reign of, 268

Ferdinand II, king of Naples: reign of, 269

Ferdinand III, king of Naples: see Ferdinand V, king of Spain

Ferdinand I, king of Portugal: reign of, 290

Ferdinand (I) the Great, king of Leon and Castile: reign of, 140;

defeats Bermudo of Leon, 200

Ferdinand II, king of Leon: reign of, 146

Ferdinand (III) the Saint, king of Leon and Castile: birth, 100;

campaigns against the Moors, 102, 104;

accession to throne of Castile, 150;

accession to throne of Leon, 151

Ferdinand IV, king of Leon and Castile: reign of, 157

Ferdinand (V) the Catholic, king of Spain (V of Castile, II of Aragon, III of Naples): negotiations with the Moors, 120;

accession to throne of Aragon, 121, 184, 268;

his campaigns against the Moors, 122;

marries Isabella, 182;

accession to throne of Castile, 183;

reign of, 185;

conquers Navarre, 216;

accession to throne of Sicily, 267

Ferdinand VI, king of Spain: reign of, 412

Ferdinand VII, king of Spain: intrigues of, 482, 485;

reign of, 488

Ferdinand IV, king of the Two Sicilies: accession of, 414

Ferdinand, Don, son of Alfonso IV of Aragon: rebellion of, 251

Ferdinand, infante of Portugal: campaign of, in Africa, 305

Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg: marries Maria II of Portugal, 537

Figuerola y Moracas, Estanislao: made minister of finance in provisional government, 510

Foix, André de: attempts to restore Navarre to Henri d’Albret, 349

Foix, Germaine de: marries Ferdinand V of Spain, 190

Foix, Gaston, Count de: death of, 214

Foix, Matthieu, Count de: claims throne of Aragon, 258

Fontainebleau, Treaty of (1807), 528

Florida Blanca, Josef Moñino, Conde de: favors American rebellion, 416

Flushing: revolts against Spanish rule, 360

Fraga: siege of (1134), 234

Francis I, king of France: opposes election of Charles V to the imperial throne, 343;

taken prisoner by Charles V, 350

Francis de Borgia, St.: consoles Emperor Charles V, 352

Francis Xavier, St.: see Francisco de Xavier, San

Francisco d’Assisi: marries Isabella II of Spain, 501

Francisco de Xavier, San: goes to India, 435

François Phoebus, king of Navarre: reign of, 215

Franks: invade Spain, 26

Frederic II, king of Naples: reign of, 269

Frederic II, king of Sicily: at war with Jayme II of Aragon, 248

Frederick William III, king of Prussia: signs Peace of Tilsit, 485

Fruela (Froila) I, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 131

Fruela (Froila) II, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 135

Fuentes de Oñoro: battle of (1811), 530

Gadalebi: battle of the, 437

Gades: see Cadiz

Gaeta: siege of (1435), 265

Galba, Servius Sulpicius (second century B.C.): his campaign in Spain, 19

Galba, Servius Sulpicius (3 B.C.-69 A.D.): declared emperor, 25

Galiano: leader of Spanish revolution, 492

Galicians (Gallaici): description of, 9

Galvez, Josef: conquers West Florida, 416

Gama, Estevan de: his voyage to India, 327;

viceroyal of the Indies, 435

Gama, Francisco de: expels Dutch from the Indian seas, 459

Gama, Paulo de: suppresses meeting against Vasco de Gama, 325

Gama, Vasco de: his voyage to India, 325;

his second voyage to India, 327;

death of, 434

Gama, Vicente Sodre de: his campaigns in India, 327

Garces, Garcia, count of Castile: career of, 138

Garces, Sancho, count of Castile: rebellion of, 138

Garcia, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 134

Garcia, king of Galicia: reign of, 142

Garcia (I) Sanchez (Garcia Iñiguez), king of Navarre: reign of, 195, 197

Garcia (II) el Tembloso, king of Navarre: reign of, 199

Garcia III, king of Navarre: accession of, 139;

death of, 141;

reign of, 200

Garcia (IV) Ramirez, king of Navarre: at war with Alfonso VII of Leon, 145;

reign of, 201;

accession of, 235

Gaza: battle of, 205

Gehwar ben Mohammed, caliph of Cordova: reign of, 85

Gensaleic: usurps throne of the Visigoths, 39

Gerona: siege of (1283), 246

Gibraltar: sieges of (1329), 112;

(1705), 394;

(1779), 417

Godoy, Manuel de: administration of, 481

Gonsalo de Cordova, Don: career of, 269

Gonsalves, Alvaro: death of, 289

Gosvinda, queen of Leovigild: her quarrel with Ingunda, 41

Goths: history of, 35;

condition of the people under, 53

Granada: conquest of, by Christians, 124;

battle of (1319), 159

Granada, Kingdom of: history of, 104

Granvelle, Antoine Pierrenot de, bishop of Arras: influences Margarita of Parma, 357

Gregory XI, Pope: upholds rights of daughter of Frederic II of Sicily, 256

Guiomar de Castro, Doña: her relations with Enrique IV of Leon, 181

Guise, François de Lorraine, duke of: his campaign against the Spanish in Italy, 354

Gunderic: leads the invasion of the Vandals into Spain, 35

Hairan, hagib of Cordova: at war with Solyman, 80;

deserts Ali ben Hamed, 81

Hamed ben Mohammed, king of East Morocco: reign of, 437

Hamilcar Barca: his career in Spain, 13

Hannibal: career of, 14

Hanno: defeated by Scipio, 16

Hanno, son of Gisgo: taken prisoner by the Romans, 18

Hasdrubal, son-in-law of Hamilcar Barca: his career in Spain, 13

Hasdrubal, brother of Hannibal: defeated by the Scipios, 16

Hasdrubal, son of Gisgo: defeated by Martius, 17;

defeated by Scipio Africanus, 18

Henri, king of Navarre: marriage of, 206;

reign of, 207

Henri d’Albret: claims throne of Navarre, 349

Henri of Besançon, count of Portugal: reign of, 272

Henrique, king of Portugal: regent for Sebastian, 440;

reign of, 447

Henrique, infante of Portugal: scientific career of, 304;

campaign of, in Africa, 305

Henry III, king of England: concludes treaty with Alfonso X of Leon, 152

Henry VII, king of England: detains Philip the Handsome and Juana in England, 190

Henry II, king of France: concludes treaty with Emperor Charles V, 351

Henry IV, king of France: at war with Philip II of Spain, 356

Henry: see Enrique

Hermeric: leads the invasion of the Suevi into Spain, 35;

reign of, 37

Hixem (I) ben Abderahman, surnamed Alhadi Rhadi, caliph of Cordova: birth of, 68;

reign of, 71

Hixem (II) ben Alhakem, caliph of Cordova: reign of, 78

Hixem III, caliph of Cordova: reign of, 82

Horn, Count: arrested and executed, 359

Hunfrido: see Wifredo

Husam ben Dhizar surnamed Abulchatur: subdues rebellion in Spain, 66

Iberians: earliest inhabitants of Spanish peninsula, 3;

divisions of, 10

Ibrahim Abu Ishac ben Taxfin: reign of, 97

Ibrahim ben Yussef: sent against Mohammed ben Abdalla, 94

Idatius: persecutes Priscillianists, 31

Iñes de Castro, Doña: sketch of, 286

Ingunda: marries Ermenigild, 41

Innocent III, Pope: demands separation of Alfonso IX of Leon and Berengaria of Castile, 148

Innocent IV, Pope: deprives Sancho II of Portugal of his royal powers, 280

Inquisition: introduced into Aragon, 271;

introduced into Portugal, 439;

reëstablished in Spain, 488

Invincible Armada, The: see Armada, The Invincible

Isabel of Portugal: marries Charles V, 350

Isabel, infanta of Spain: marries Albert of Austria, 363

Isabel Farnese: marries Philip V of Spain, 404;

influence of, over Philip 405

Isabel Maria, daughter of Joam VI of Portugal: regent of Portugal, 535

Isabella I, queen of Leon and Castile: negotiations with the Moors, 120;

at the siege of Malaga, 123;

marries Ferdinand, 182;

accession to throne of Castile, 183;

reign of, 185;

death of, 188

Isabella (II) Louisa, queen of Spain: birth of, 496;

reign of, 497

Isabella of Castile, daughter of Ferdinand V: marries Alfonso of Portugal, 312, 324;

marries Manuel of Portugal, 325

Isabelle de Bourbon: marries the prince of the Asturias, 375

Isabelle of France: marries Thibault II of Navarre, 206

Ismail ben Yussef: revolt of, 116

Iviça: siege of (1235), 241

Jaen: sieges of (1228-1230), 150;

(1245), 105

James the Elder, St.: introduces Christianity into Spain, 31

James: see Jayme

Japan: first approached by Europeans, 435

Jayme (I), the Conquistador, king of Aragon: birth of, 237;

campaigns against the Moors, 102, 107;

named as successor to Sancho VI of Navarre, 204;

reign of, 239

Jayme II, king of Aragon: reign of, 247

Jayme, king of Majorca: joins crusade against Pedro III of Aragon, 246;

at war with Pedro IV of Aragon, 254

Jayme, Don, son of Alfonso IV of Aragon: rebellion of, 251

Jayme of Aragon, Don: revolt of, 268

Jean d’Albret, king of Navarre: at war with Ferdinand V of Spain, 192;

reign of, 216;

attempts to regain his throne, 340

Jeanne I, queen of Navarre: reign of, 207

Jeanne II, queen of Navarre: reign of, 209

Jena: battle of (1806), 484

Jesuits: expelled from France and Spain, 418;

influence of, in Portugal, 439;

expelled from Portugal, 418, 472;

recalled to Spain, 496

Jews: persecuted by Sisebert, 44;

persecutions of, under Ferdinand and Isabella, 185;

massacre of, under Jeanne II of Navarre, 209;

persecution of, under Manuel of Portugal, 336

Joam I, king of Portugal: does homage to Leonora, 292;

imprisoned, 294;

schemes for the throne of Portugal, 296;

made regent of Portugal, 297;

accession to throne, 299

Joam (II) the Great and the Perfect, king of Portugal: sends out expeditions to the New World, 187;

his campaign in Africa, 316;

reign of, 318

Joam III, king of Portugal: reign of, 433

Joam IV, king of Portugal: claims throne of Portugal, 448;

plots for the throne, 456;

accession of, 379;

reign of, 462

Joam V, king of Portugal: reign of, 470

Joam VI, king of Portugal: marries Carlotta of Spain, 418;

made regent of Portugal, 475;

reign of, 525

Joan, queen of Naples: marries the count de la Marche, 261;

appeals to the king of Aragon for aid against French, 262

John XXII, Pope: grants dispensation for marriage of Pedro I of Portugal and Iñes de Castro, 290

John: see Juan, also Joam

Jomail ben Zeyan: revolt of, 102

José, king of Portugal: reign of, 471

Juan I, king of Aragon: reign of, 257

Juan II, king of Aragon: marries Blanche of Navarre, 261;

accession to throne of Navarre, 263;

accession to throne of Aragon, 265

Juan I, king of Leon and Castile: reign of, 172;

marries Beatrix of Portugal, 291;

claims throne of Portugal, 295

Juan II, king of Leon and Castile: restores Mohammed VII to throne of Granada, 118;

aids revolt of Mohammed ben Ismail, 119;

reign of, 175;

his relations with Alfonso V of Aragon, 263;

attempts to restore peace between the Moors and Duarte of Portugal, 309

Juan I, king of Navarre: reign of, 212

Juan II, king of Navarre: see Juan II, king of Aragon

Juan I, king of Portugal: usurps throne, 173

Juan, infante of Spain: claims regency, 158;

death of, 111, 253

Juan de Lara, Don: claims regency of Alfonso XI, 158

Juan el Tuerto, Don: rebellion of, 159

Juan of Austria, Don: birth of, 353;

at battle of Lepanto, 355;

appointed regent of the Low Countries, 361;

his campaign against the Moriscos, 371;

death of, 361

Juan of Austria, Don (b. 1629): career of, 380;

at war with Portugal, 465

Juan Manuel, Don: becomes regent for Alfonso XI, 159;

influence of, 285

Juana, queen of Castile: reign of, 188

Juana, queen of Spain: acknowledged as queen, 347;

death of, 351

Juana, daughter of Emperor Charles V: marries Joam, infante of Portugal, 439

Juana de Castro, Doña: her relations with Pedro the Cruel, 162

Jubiles: massacre of (1568), 368

Julian, Count: summons the Saracens to Spain, 47

Julius II, Pope: requests aid of Ferdinand V of Spain, 192

Junot, Andoche: his campaign in Portugal, 527

Kinsale: battle of, 375

Lamego: siege of (1057), 142

Lanuza, Juan de: made regent of Aragon, 346;

puts down rebellion against Charles, 348

Lauria, Roger de: his campaigns in the Two Sicilies, 245;

at battle of Rosas, 246

Lazzara: battle of (1702), 390

Leander, St., bishop of Seville: urges Ermenigild to accept Catholicism, 41;

sketch of, 59

Leicester, Robert Dudley, Earl of: his campaigns in the Netherlands, 362

Leipsic: battle of (1813), 486

Leonora, daughter of Alfonso VIII of Castile: marries Jayme I of Aragon, 240;

marriage annulled, 243;

her quarrel with Pedro IV of Aragon, 250;

death of, 253

Leonora, queen of Navarre: reign of, 215

Leonora, queen of Portugal: marries Ferdinand I of Portugal, 291;

acknowledged as queen, 292;

intrigues of, 293;

taken as prisoner to Spain, 298

Leonora of Sardinia: at war with Pedro IV of Aragon, 256

Leonora, infanta of Portugal: marries Pedro IV of Aragon, 251

Leonora de Guzman, Doña: her relations with Alfonso XI of Leon, 160, 285

Leopold I, Holy Roman emperor: claims throne of Spain, 384

Leovigild, king of the Visigoths: reign of, 41

Lepanto: battle of, 355

Lepidus, Marcus Æmilius: left in command of Spanish province, 23

Lerida: battle of, 22

Ligny: battle of (1815), 487, 532

Lippe, Count de: takes command of Portuguese army, 473

Lisbon: captured by Alfonso the Chaste, 72;

siege of (1147), 275

Lisbon Earthquake, The (1755), 471

Liuva, king of the Goths: reign of, 43

Logroño: battles of (1367), 167;

siege of (1521), 349

Lorca: battle of, 69

Louis, king of Aquitaine: campaigns against the Mohammedans, 219, 220

Louis XI, king of France: his relations with Juan II of Aragon, 266;

his relations with Alfonso V of Portugal, 317

Louis XII, king of France: concludes treaty with Ferdinand, the Catholic, 270

Louis XIII, king of France: marries Ana of Spain, 375;

at war with Philip IV of Spain, 378;

claims throne of the Netherlands, 381

Louis XIV, king of France: marries Maria Teresa of Spain, 379;

expels Jesuits from France, 419

Louis of Nassau: campaigns of, 359

Louis: see Luis

Louisa, infanta of Spain: marries Duke of Montpensier, 501

Louise Isabelle, daughter of the Duc d’Orleans: marries Luis I of Spain, 408

Louisiana: ceded to the United States, 484

Lucar: battle of, 515

Luchana: battle of, 497

Lucullus, Lucius Licinius: his campaign in Spain, 19

Luis I, king of Portugal: reign of, 538

Luis I, king of Spain: marries Louise Isabelle, 408;

accession to throne, 408

Lunéville, Treaty of (1801), 483

Lusitanians: description of, 9

Madagascar: discovered by the Portuguese, 329

Madrid: captured by the allies, 397

Mafra, Convent of: founded, 471

Magalhanes (Magellan), Fernando de: discoveries of, 331

Mago: defeats Publius Scipio, 17;

taken prisoner by the Romans, 18

Maine: blown up, 519

Malaga: siege of (1488), 122

Malagon: siege of (1212), 100

Malta: siege of (1565), 355

Manila Bay: battle of, 520

Manuel the Fortunate, king of Portugal:

marriages of, 187;

made constable of the kingdom, 322;

reign of, 325

Manuel Philibert, duke of Savoy: claims throne of Spain, 448

Marche, Count de la: joins conspiracy against Pedro the Cruel, 166

Marck, Count de la: atrocities of, 360

Marcus Aurelius: condition of Spain under, 26

Margall, Pi y: president of the republic, 513

Margarita, queen of Martin of Aragon: marriage of, 260

Margarita of Parma: sketch of, 353;

made regent of the Low Countries, 357

Maria I, queen of Portugal: reign of, 474

Maria (II) da Gloria, queen of Portugal: reign of, 535;

recognized as queen, 536

Maria, daughter of Victor Emmanuel of Italy: marries Luis I of Portugal, 538

Maria Christina of Naples: marries Ferdinand VII of Spain, 496;

regency of, 497, 517

Maria de Padilla, Doña: her relations with Pedro the Cruel, 161;

death of, 165

Maria Teresa, daughter of Philip IV of Spain: marries Louis XIV of France, 379

Maria Teresa Magdalena Barbara, queen of Spain: character of, 413

Marie Amélie, daughter of the comte de Paris: marries Carlos I of Portugal, 539

Marie Louise of France: marries Carlos II of Spain, 383;

her relations with Godoy, 481

Marnix, Philip de: leads rebellion in the Low Countries, 358

Marriage: laws of the Goths, 57

Martin IV, Pope: excommunicates Pedro III of Aragon, 245

Martin V, Pope: grants discovered lands to Portugal, 304

Martin, king of Aragon: reign of, 258

Martins, Lucius: his campaign against Carthaginians, 17

Mary I, queen of England: marries Philip II of Spain, 351;

death of, 356

Mascarenhas, Pedro: viceroy of the Indies, 434

Masséna, André: his campaign in Spanish peninsula, 530

Matilda, wife of Alfonso III of Portugal: abandoned by her husband, 281

Maura: administration of, 521

Mauregato, the Usurper, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 132

Maurice of Nassau, prince of Orange: assumes leadership of Dutch Protestants, 362;

his campaign against the Portuguese, 460

Mazarin, Jules Giulio: favors war with Philip IV of Spain, 378

Medina-Sidonia, Alonzo de Guzman, duke of: given command of the Spanish Armada, 364

Melito, Conde de: made regent of Valencia, 347

Menezes, Duarte de: his campaign in Africa, 316;

made governor of the Indies, 331, 433

Menezes, Henrique de: viceroy of the Indies, 434

Mequinencia: siege of (1133), 234

Merida: sieges of (713 A.D.), 51;

(736 A.D.), 66

Metellus Pius: his campaign in Spain, 21

Methuen Commercial Treaty (1703), 525

Mexico: sketch of the history of, 519

Miguel, Dom, son of Joam VI of Portugal: intrigues of, 534;

regency of, 535

Milan Decree (1807), 485

Milan, St. (St. Aemilianus): sketch of, 59

Miles, Nelson Appleton: his campaign in Porto Rico, 520

Mina, Francisco: leader of reform movement in Spain, 493

Minas, Marquis das: in war of Spanish Succession, 393

Miro, count of Barcelona: reign of, 224

Mohammed, caliph of Cordova: usurps throne (1009), 79

Mohammed (I) ben Abderahman, caliph of Cordova: reign of, 74

Mohammed (II) ben Abderahman, caliph of Cordova: usurps throne, 81

Mohammed (I) ben Alhamar, king of Granada: accession of, 103;

reign of, 104

Mohammed II, king of Granada: reign of, 109

Mohammed (III) Abu Abdalla, king of Granada: reign of, 110

Mohammed (IV) ben Ismail, king of Granada: reign of, 111

Mohammed (V) ben Yussef, king of Granada: reign of, 115;

aids Pedro the Cruel, 170

Mohammed (VI) ben Yussef, king of Granada: reign of, 117

Mohammed or Muley (VII) ben Yussef, surnamed El Hayzari, king of Granada: reign of, 118

Mohammed (VIII) el Zaquir, king of Granada: reign of, 118

Mohammed (IX) ben Osmin, king of Granada: reign of, 119

Mohammed (X) ben Ismail, king of Granada: revolt of, 119;

accession and reign of, 120

Mohammed Abu Abdalla, surnamed Alnassir, Mohammedan ruler: reign of, 100

Mohammed Almoateded, king of Seville: reign of, 86

Mohammed ben Abdalla, king of Carmona: at war with Mohammed ben Ismail ben Abid, 85

Mohammed ben Abdalla: rebellion of, 75, 93

Mohammed ben Abdalla, surnamed Almansor: regent of Cordova, 78;

his campaigns against Leon, 138;

his conquests in Portugal, 272

Mohammed ben Ferag: revolt of, 112

Mohammed ben Gehwar, king of Cordova: reign of, 86

Mohammed ben Hamed: leads rebellion against Portuguese rule in Africa, 333

Mohammed ben Humeya: proclaimed king of the Moriscos, 367

Mohammed ben Ismail ben Abid, king of Seville: defeats Yahia, 82;

assumes the powers of royalty, 85

Mohammed ben Mohammed, king of Cordova: reign of, 87

Mohammed ben Mohammed, king of West Morocco: reign of, 437

Mohammed ben Yacub: defeated at battle of Tolosa, 148

Moncada: siege of (1234), 241

Mondejar, Marquis of: presents complaints of Moriscos to Philip II, 366

Monscato: battle of, 393

Montalvan: captured by Pedro II of Aragon, 237

Monteagudo, Don Pedro Sanchez de: regent of Navarre, 207

Monterroso: battle of (982 A.D.), 137

Montfort, Simon de: his crusade against the Albigenses, 238

Montojo, Admiral: at battle of Manila Bay, 520

Montpensier, Duke of: marries Louisa of Spain, 501

Monzon: siege of (1089), 232

Moore, Sir John: his campaign in the Spanish peninsula, 486, 529

Moret: forms cabinet, 522

Morillo, Pablo: quells disturbance at Madrid, 495

Moriscos: revolt of, 366

Morocco: siege of, 97

Moroto: leader of Carlists, 498

Mugueiz el Rumi: besieges Cordova, 50

Muley, king of Fez: at war with Alfonso V of Portugal, 316

Muley, king of Fez: at war with Mohammed ben Mohammed, 438

Muley Abdalla: see Diego Lopez ben Aboo

Muley Abdallah ben Mohammed, king of Morocco: accession of, 439;

reign of, 440

Muley Ali Abul Hassan ben Mohammed, king of Granada: reign of, 120

Muley Hamet ben Muley, king of Morocco: at war with the Portuguese, 440;

accession of, 441;

dethroned, 442;

death of, 447

Muley Moluc Abdelmelic, king of Morocco: flees from Morocco, 441;

accession to throne, 442

Munoz, duke of Rianzares: his relations with Maria Christina of Spain, 499, 501

Murat, Joachim: invades Spain, 485;

his campaign in Portugal, 527

Murat: battle of, 238

Musa ben Nozeir: plans conquest of Spain, 48;

his campaigns in Spain, 51

Muza ben Zeyad: rebellion of, 74

Napoleon (I) Bonaparte: sketch of: 483, 527

Narvaez, General: opposes regency of Espartero, 500;

second ministry of, 506

Nassir ben Ferag, king of Granada: reign of, 111

Navarre, Kingdom of: history, 194

Navas de Tolosa: see Tolosa

Nelson, Horatio: his campaign against the Spanish and French fleets, 484

Nero: condition of Spain under, 25

Nicholas III, Pope: interferes between Philip of France and Alfonso of Leon, 155

Nile: battle of the (1798), 483, 527

Nimeguen, Peace of, 383

Nivelle: battle of the, 531

Nolle, Antonio: discovers the Cape de Verd islands, 318

Normans: invade Leon, 137

Noronha, Alfonso de: viceroy of the Indies, 436

Noronha, Antonio de: defeated by Moors, 324;

attempts to build a citadel at the mouth of the River Mamora, 334

Noronha, Garcia de: viceroy of the Indies, 435

Numantia: siege of, 19

Obeidala, Fatimite caliph: besieges Fez, 76

Ocha ben Albegag: emir of Spain, 65

O’Donnell, Henry Joseph: crushes insurrection against Ferdinand VII of Spain, 492

O’Donnell, Leopoldo, duke of Tetuan: conspires against Isabella, 501

Omar, king of Badajoz: dethroned, 90

Olite: founded, 44

Olivares, Count of: becomes royal favorite, 376

Olmedo: battles of (1445), 178;

(1467), 182

Olosaga: leader of conspiracy against Isabella II of Spain, 508

Oporto: siege of (1833), 536

Oppas, bishop of Toledo: joins Mohammedans against Christians, 129

Oran: sieges of (1145), 96;

(1509), 192

Ordoño I, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 133

Ordoño II, king of Asturias and Leon: invades Mohammedan possessions, 76;

reign of, 135;

aids king of Navarre, 198

Ordoño III, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 136

Ordoño IV, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 137

Orguiva: siege of, 1569, 370

Ormond, James Butler, duke of (1665-1745): commands expedition against Cadiz, 390

Orsini, Princess Anna Maria: sketch of, 387;

disgraced, 404

Orthes: battle of, 531

Ortiz de Zuniga, Iñigo, governor of Xeres: refuses to poison Blanche de Bourbon, 165

Otgar: exploits of, 218

Othman: favors the Franks, 64

Othman: revolt of, 112

Ourique: battle of (1138), 96, 274

Pacheco, Diego-Lopes: concerned in the murder of Iñes de Castro, 289

Padilla, Juam de: arrested, 346

Palafox, Joseph: defends Saragossa, 489

Palmella: administration of, 536

Palmera: battle of (1228), 240

Pampeluna: captured by Charlemagne 70

Pamplona: siege of (907 A.D.), 197

Paralada: siege of (1471), 267

Paris, Peace of (1815), 532

Parma, Alessandro Farnese, duke of: ordered to invade France, 356

Pascal II, Pope: releases Spain from crusade obligations, 90;

aids Raymundo III of Barcelona against Mohammedans, 228

Paul, St.: preaches in Spain, 31

Paul IV, Pope: opposes Spanish rule in the Two Sicilies, 354

Paul, Duke: rebellion of, 45

Pavia: battle of, 350

Payva, Alfonso de: explorations of, 322

Pedro I, king of Aragon and Navarre: accession to throne of Navarre, 201;

accession to throne of Aragon, 232

Pedro II, king of Aragon: reign of, 237

Pedro III, king of Aragon: marries Constança, 243;

reign of, 243

Pedro IV, king of Aragon: reign of, 250

Pedro (I) the Cruel, king of Leon and Castile: reign of, 160;

his relations with Charles II of Navarre, 210;

at war with Pedro IV of Aragon, 253

Pedro (I) the Severe, king of Portugal: concludes a treaty with Pedro the Cruel of Castile, 164;

relations of, with Iñes de Castro, 286;

rebellion of, 288;

reign of, 289

Pedro II, king of Portugal: joins allies against France and Spain, 392;

plots to obtain throne, 467;

made regent, 468;

reign of, 469

Pedro III, king of Portugal: marries Maria I of Portugal, 474

Pedro IV, king of Portugal (I of Brazil): accession to and abdication of throne of Portugal, 535;

resigns Brazilian crown, 535;

death of, 536

Pedro V, king of Portugal: reign of, 538

Pedro, son of Juam I of Portugal: travels of, 304;

made regent of Portugal, 311;

death of, 314

Pedro, infante of Portugal (d. 1466): at war with Juan II of Aragon, 266

Pedro, infante of Spain: claims regency, 158;

death of, 111

Pedro de Lara, Don: takes command of Spanish forces, 144

Pedro de Menezes, governor of Ceuta: heroism of, 301

Pelayo, king of Asturias and Leon: lends Christian forces, 129;

character of, 130

Pepin II, king of Aquitaine: revolt of, 221

Pepin, son of Charlemagne: invades Navarre, 196

Peralta, Don Pedro de: assassinates the bishop of Pamplona, 214

Perez, Antonio: persecution of, 373

Perez de Castro, Fernando: leader in rebellion against Pedro the Cruel, 163

Perpenna, Marcus Vento: joins Sertorius in Spain, 21;

conspires against Sertorius, 21

Perpignan: siege of (1473), 267

Peru: wins her independence from Spain, 519

Peter (I) the Great, emperor of Russia: forms alliance with Philip V of Spain, 406

Peter: see Pedro

Peterborough, Charles Mordaunt, Earl of: his campaign in Spain, 394

Petreius, Marcus: his campaigns in Spain, 22

Petronilla, queen of Aragon: marries Raymundo V of Barcelona, 228;

reign of, 235

Philip (III) the Bold, king of France: declares war on Alfonso X of Leon, 154;

grants protection to Jeanne of Navarre, 207

Philip (IV) the Fair, king of France: his crusade against Pedro III of Aragon, 246

Philip I, king of Portugal: see Philip II, king of Spain

Philip II, king of Portugal: see Philip III, king of Spain

Philip III, king of Portugal: see Philip IV, king of Spain

Philip (I) the Handsome, king of Leon and Castile: reign of, 189

Philip II, king of Spain: birth of, 350;

marries Mary of England, 351;

accession to throne of the Netherlands, 351;

accession to throne of Spain, 352;

reign of, 354;

aids Sebastian of Portugal against Moors of Africa, 442;

claims throne of Portugal, 448;

acquires the throne of Portugal, 366, 451

summary of condition of Spain under, 424

Philip III, king of Spain: reign of, 374;

summary of condition of Spain under, 426;

reign of, in Portugal, 455

Philip IV, king of Spain: reign of, 376;

summary of condition of Spain under, 427;

reign of, in Portugal, 455

Philip V, king of Spain: reign of, 386;

summary of condition of Spain under, 428

Philippa, queen of Portugal: marries Joam I, 299

Phoenicians: settle in Spain, 6, 12

Pisuerga: battle of the, 142

Pitt, William, earl of Chatham: opposes Spanish policies, 414

Placidia: marries Ataulphus, 36;

restored to the Romans, 37

Plantagenet, Richard, earl of Cornwall: elected king of Germany, 153

Poitiers: battle of (507 A.D.), 39

Poitiers, Battle of: see Tours, Battle of

Pombal, Marquis of: administration of, 473

Pompeius, Sextus: his campaigns in Spain, 23

Pompey (Cneius Pompeius Magnus) (106-48 B.C.): his campaigns in Spain, 21

Pompey (Cneius Pompeius Magnus) (ca. 80-45 B.C.): his campaign in Spain, 23

Portocarrero, Cardinal: appointed regent of Spain, 385

Portugal, History of: see Spain and Portugal, History of

Portuguese Legion: organization of, 528

Posthumus, Marcus Cassianus Latinus: his campaigns in Spain, 26

Prim, Juam: opposes regency of Espartero, 500;

joins revolutionists, 508;

made minister of war in provisional government, 510

Priscillianists: heresy of, 31

Pyramids, Battle of the (1798), 483

Pyrenees, Battles of the, 531

Pyrenees, Treaty of the (1659), 379, 465

Quadruple Alliance, The (1718), 406

Quadruple Alliance, The (1834), 497

Quatre Bras: battle (1815), 487, 532

Quiroga, General: leader of Spanish revolution, 492

Rainucci, prince of Parma: claims throne of Portugal, 448

Ramilies: battle of, 397

Ramiro I, king of Aragon: accession of, 140;

invades Navarre, 200;

reign of, 231

Ramiro (II) the Monk, king of Aragon: accession of, 202;

reign of, 235

Ramiro I, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 133

Ramiro II, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 136

Ramiro III, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 137

Raymundo I, count of Barcelona: reign of, 225

Raymundo II, count of Barcelona: reign of, 226

Raymundo (III) the Hairy, count of Barcelona: reign of, 226

Raymundo IV, count of Barcelona: reign of, 227

Raymundo (Raymond) V, count of Barcelona: concludes treaty with Alfonso VII of Leon, 145;

at war with Navarre, 202, 203;

reign of, 228;

becomes king of Aragon, 229, 235

Recared I, king of the Goths: his campaigns in Gaul, 42;

reign of, 43

Recared II, king of the Goths: reign of, 44

Receswind, king of the Goths: reign of, 44

Reformation, The: in Holland, 356

Revolution, The French: effect on Spain, 482

Revolution of 1820, Portuguese, 534

Revolution of 1820, Spanish, 493

Revolution of 1854, 503

Rhodia: see Rosas

Richard I, king of England: marries Berengaria of Navarre, 203

Richard, earl of Cornwall: see Plantagenet, Richard

Richelieu, Armand Jean du Plessis, Cardinal and duke of: his assassination plotted, 378

Richiarius, king of the Suevi: taken prisoner by the Goths, 38

Richilan, king of the Suevi: reign of, 37

Riego y Nunez Rafael del: leader of Spanish revolution, 492;

death of, 495

Rios, Montero: administration of, 522

Ripperda, Baron de: negotiates treaties between Philip V of Spain and the emperor, 409

Rivas, Duc de: administration of, 504

Roderic, king of the Goths: reign of, 46

Rodney, Sir George Brydges: defeats Franco-Spanish fleet, 416

Rodriguez, Mendo: attempts to save Pedro the Cruel from Enrique, 170

Rojas, Miguel de: death of, 369

Rome: interferes with Carthaginian rule in Spain, 14

Rooke, Sir George: his campaigns against the French and Spanish, 394

Rosas (Rhodia): founded, 12;

battle of, 246

Roupinho, Fuas: his campaign against the Mohammedans, 276

Ryswick, Peace of (1697), 384

Saa, Duarte de: governor of the Moluccas, 437

Sagasta, Praxedes Mateo: administration of, 516;

returns to power, 521;

death of, 521

Saguntum: siege of, 15

St. George of the Mine: growth of, 322

St. Jean Pied de Port: siege of (1516), 340

St. Quentin: battle of (1557), 354, 355

St. Sebastian: siege of, 531

Sala ben Sala: at siege of Ceuta, 301;

at siege of Tangier, 306

Salado: battle of, 286

Salamanca: battle of (1810), 486, 530

Saldanha, General: administration of, 537

Salic Law: introduced in Spain, 403;

abolished by Ferdinand VII of Spain, 496

Salmeron, Nicolas: president of the republic, 513

Salomon, count of Barcelona: reign of, 223

Salvatierra: sieges of (1211), 100;

(1704), 393

Samail: his campaigns in Spain, 68

Sampeyo (Sam Paio), Lopo Vaz de: viceroy of the Indies, 434

Sampson, William Thomas: at battle of Santiago, 520

Sancho (I) Ramirez, king of Aragon, (IV of Navarre): invades Andalusia, 90;

his campaign against the Moors, 100;

accession to throne of Navarre, 201;

reign of, 231

Sancho (I) the Fat, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 137

Sancho (II) the Brave, king of Leon and Castile: reign of, 142

Sancho III, king of Leon and Castile: reign of, 146

Sancho IV, king of Leon and Castile: rebellion of, 155;

accession of, 156

Sancho Iñigo, count of Bigorre and king of Navarre: reign of, 195

Sancho I (Garces Abaraca), king of Navarre: reign of, 197

Sancho (II) el Mayor, king of Navarre: invades Leon, 139;

reign of, 199

Sancho III, king of Navarre: reign of, 200

Sancho (IV) Ramirez, king of Navarre: see Sancho (I) Ramirez, king of Aragon

Sancho V, king of Navarre: reign of, 203

Sancho VI, king of Navarre: reign of, 204

Sancho I, king of Portugal: forms alliance with Alfonso IX of Leon, 147;

his campaigns against the Moors, 276;

reign of, 277

Sancho II, king of Portugal: reign of, 279

Sancho, count of Roussillon: regent of Aragon, 239

Sancho, brother of Ordoño III of Leon: revolt of, 136

San Pedro de Gormaz: battle of, 135

San Salvador: siege of (1624), 460

Santa Cruz, Conde de: sends expeditions against pirates, 458

Santarem: battles of (1072), 143;

(1184), 98

Santiago de Cuba: battle of, 520

Saracens: invade Spain, 46

Sardinia: revolt of, against Aragon, 255;

rebellion of, against Martin I of Sicily, 258

Saragossa: captured by Charlemagne, 70;

sieges of (1118), 92, 233;

(1808, 1809), 489

Sartorius, count de San Luis: administration of, 503

Scipio Aemilianus: his campaign in Spain, 19

Scipio Africanus, Publius Cornelius: his campaigns in Spain, 18

Scipio, Cnaeus: his campaigns in Spain, 16

Scipio, Publius Cornelius: his campaigns in Spain, 16

Sebastian, king of Portugal: birth of, 440;

reign of, 440

Seniofredo, count of Barcelona: reign of, 225

Sepulveda: battle of, 144

Serrano y Dominguez, Francisco, duke de la Torre: joins revolutionists, 508;

made president of provisional government, 510;

president of the republic, 513

Sertorius, Quintus: his campaigns against Sylla, 20;

assassination of, 21

Seville: sieges of (713), 51;

(1247), 106;

battle of (1015), 80

Seville, Treaty of (1729), 410

Sibilla, queen of Pedro IV of Aragon: treatment of, by Juan I of Aragon, 257

Sidonia: battle of, 102

Sigeric, king of the Goths: reign of, 36

Silo, king of Asturias and Leon: reign of, 131

Silvela: ministry of, 520;

second ministry of, 521

Simancas: battle of (939 A.D.), 136

Siqueira, Diego Lopes de: made governor of the Indies, 331

Sisebert, king of the Goths: reign of, 44

Slavery: in ancient Spain, 32

Soares, Lope: his campaigns in the East, 328;

made viceroy of India, 330

Soliman, Pasha: besieges Diu, 435

Solyman I, sultan of Turkey: besieges Malta, 355

Solyman, caliph of Cordova: reign of, 80

Solyman ben Abderahman: revolts against Alhakem, 72

Soria, Marquis de: his campaign in Portugal, 415

Soult, Nicolas Jean de Dieu: at battle of Corunna, 529

Sousa, Alfonso de: viceroy of the Indies, 435

Spain and Portugal, History of: early history, 3;

the Romans in Spain, 16;

political and religious state under the Romans, 28;

history of the Goths, 35;

condition of the people under the Goths, 53;

dominion of the Arabs, 63;

dominion of the Africans, 85;

kingdom of Granada, 104;

the Asturias, Leon and Castile, 129;

kingdom of Navarre, 194;

counts of Barcelona, 218;

kingdom of Aragon, 230;

establishment of Portuguese kingdom, 272;

the house of Austria, 339;

house of Bourbon, 386;

general condition of the monarchy, 421;

last of the ancient dynasty in Portugal, 433;

house of Braganza, 462;

events of the critical era of Spain to the close of the first Carlist war, 479;

last years of Maria Christina, and the era of Queen Isabella II, 499;

the brief reign of Amadeus, and the Bourbon restoration, 510;

events in Portugal to the close of the Peninsular War, 525;

growth of the constitutional monarchy in Portugal, 533

Spanish-American war, 520

Spanish Era, 24

Stephanie of Hohenzollern: marries Pedro V of Portugal, 538

Succession, War of Spanish, 390

Suevi: invade Spain, 26

Suleiman: see Solyman

Suniario, count of Urgel: regent of Barcelona, 225

Suwarrow (Suvarrau), Count Alexander: his campaigns in Italy, 527

Swintila, king of the Goths: reign of, 44

Syr ben Ali Bekir: his campaigns in Spain, 89

Syracuse: siege of (1298), 248

Tadmir: see Theodomir

Tafalla: siege of (1035), 231

Talavera: battles of (918 A.D.), 135;

(1811), 486, 530

Tangier: siege of (1437), 306

Tarifa: siege of (1340), 113

Tarik ben Zeyad: his campaigns in Spain, 48

Taxfin ben Ali: made governor of Spain, 95;

reign of, 96

Tello, Don, brother of Pedro the Cruel: rebellions of, 164;

at battle of Logroño, 168

Temin, brother of Ali: death of, 233

Temim ben Yussef: his campaign against the Christians, 91;

his campaign against Mohammed ben Abdalla, 94

Templars, Knights: suppression of, 158, 249

Teresa of Portugal: marries Alfonso IX of Leon, 277

Tetuan: battle of, 507

Thalaba ben Salema: his campaign in Spain, 65

Theobald: see Thibault

Theodomir (Tadmir), king of the Goths: defeated by the Saracens, 48;

reign of, 50

Theodored, king of the Goths: reign of, 37

Theodoric I, king of the Goths, reign of, 38

Theodoric II, Gothic king: his campaign in Spain, 39

Theudis, king of the Goths: administers government of Spain, 39;

accession, 40

Theudisel, king of the Goths: reign of, 40

Thibault I (count of Champagne), king of Navarre: reign of, 205

Thibault II, king of Navarre: reign of, 206

Thorismund, king of the Goths: reign of, 38

Tiberius: condition of Spain under, 25

Tilsit, Peace of (1807), 485

Timur ben Balkin, king of Malaga: dethroned, 89

Titus: condition of Spain under, 26

Toledo: sieges of (713 A.D.), 51;

(736 A.D.), 66;

(854-859 A.D.), 74;

(1083), 143;

battle of (1176), 98

Tolosa: battle of (1212), 101, 148, 204, 238

Tortosa: sieges of (804 A.D.), 220;

(1147), 236

Toulouse: battle of (1814), 486, 532

Tours, Battle of (Battle of Poitiers), 65

Trafalgar Bay: battle of (1805), 484

Trajan: condition of Spain under, 26

Tremecen: battle of, 96

Trimumpara, governor of Cochin: forms alliance with Manuel of Portugal, 326

Tulga, king of the Goths: reign of, 44

Ucles: battle of, 91

Urban VI, Pope: opposes Juan of Portugal, 173

Urgel: siege of (1091), 384

Urgel, Count de: claims the throne of Aragon, 260

Urraca, queen of Leon and Castile: reign of, 143;

marries Alfonso I of Aragon, 233

Utrecht, Peace of (1713), 401

Val-de-Junquera: battle of (921 A.D.), 135, 198

Valencia: siege of (1238), 242;

rises against the nobles and clergy, 344

Valor: battle of (1569), 370

Varro, Marcus Terentius: his campaign in Spain, 23

Vascones: description of, 8

Velasquez, Rodrigo: encourages Mohammedans to invade Leon, 138

Venice: at war with Turkey (1570), 355

Veremundo: see Bermudo

Vespasian: condition of Spain under, 26, 28

Vicalvaro: battle of (1854), 504

Victor Asmodeus (Victor Amadeus), of Savoy, king of Sicily: joins the allies against Spain, 407

Vienna, Council of: abolishes the Knights Templars, 249

Vienna, Treaty of (1735), 410

Vieyra, Martin: treason of, 307

Villadarias, Francisco de Castilla, Marquis of: attempts to defend Cadiz, 391

Villaragut, Doña Carraza: promotes the follies of the Aragonese court, 258

Villaverdi: ministry of, 521

Villaviciosa: battles of (1657), 466;

(1664), 379

Vittoria: battle of (1813), 486, 488

Vimeiro: battle of (1808), 486

Violante, queen of Juan I of Aragon: conduct of, 258

Viriatus: his campaigns against the Romans, 19

Viseu: sieges of (1027), 139, 272;

(1057), 142, 272

Wallia, king of the Goths: reign of, 36

Wamba, king of the Goths: reign of, 45

Waterloo: battle of (1815), 487, 532

Wellington, Arthur Wellesley, Viscount: his campaign in Spanish peninsula, 486, 528

Weyler, Valeriano: his administration in Cuba, 519

Wifredo (Hunfrido) I, count of Barcelona: reign of, 222

Wifredo II, count of Barcelona: reign of, 224

Wilhelm, count of Barcelona: attempts to gain his fief, 222

Willekens: conquers San Salvador, 460

William, prince of Orange: attempts to gain the regency of the Low Countries, 357;

campaigns of, 359;

made governor of the Low Countries 360;

death of, 361

William Longsword: at siege of Lisbon, 275

Witeric, king of the Goths: reign of, 43

Witiza, king of the Goths: reign of, 46

Women: condition of, in ancient Spain, 5

Xativa: battle of (1347), 252

Xavier, San Francisco de: see Francisco de Xavier, San

Xenil: battle of the, 37

Xeres de la Frontera: battle of, 49

Xerifs: rise of, 333

Xucar: battle of the, 21

Yacub ben Yussef, surnamed Almansor, Mohammedan ruler: reign of, 99

Yahia Alkadia, king of Toledo: reign of, 87

Yahia ben Anasir: attempts to usurp Moorish throne, 102

Yahia ben Edris, sovereign of Fez: besieged by Obeidala, 76;

made caliph of Cordova, 82

Yahia ben Tafut: his campaigns against the Xerifs, 334;

death of, 335

Yoland of Hungaria: marries Jayme I of Aragon, 243

Yussef (I) Abu Yacub, sovereign of Mohammedan Spain: campaigns of, in Andalusia, 98;

reign of, 98, 101;

invades Portugal, 277

Yussef (II) Abu Abdalla ben Mohammed, king of Granada: reign of, 117

Yussef (III) ben Mohammed, king of Granada: reign of, 117

Yussef Abul Hegiag ben Ismail, king of Granada: reign of, 113

Yussef ben Taxfin: his campaigns in Spain, 88

Yussef ben Zeragh, hagib of Granada: wisdom of, 118

Yussuf: refuses to acknowledge Abderahman as caliph, 67;

leads rebellion, 69

Yussuf ben Amru: tyranny of, in Toledo, 73

Zalaca: battle of, 88

Zamora: battle of, 134

Zayd Aben Kesadi: besieges Malaga, 50

Zeid ben Cassim: assassination of, 74

Zeyad, wali of Barcelona: career of, 219

Zoraya, wife of Abul Hassan: leads rebellion, 121

Zorilla, Manuel Ruiz: made minister of commerce in provisional government, 510;

prime minister under Amadeus, 512

Zumalacárregui: successes of, 497

Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple spellings occur, majority use has been employed.

Some illustrations were moved to facilitate page layout. The color map endpiece was added to the List of Text Maps.

THE HISTORY OF NATIONS


EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

HENRY CABOT LODGE, Ph.D., LL.D.

Associate Editors and Authors		W. HAROLD CLAFLIN, B.A.,
			Department of History, Harvard University

ARCHIBALD HENRY SAYCE, LL.D.,		CHARLES DANDLIKER, LL.D.,
	Professor of Assyriology, Oxford University		President of Zurich University

CHRISTOPHER JOHNSTON, M.D., Ph.D.,		ELBERT JAY BENTON, Ph.D.,
	Associate Professor of Oriental History and Archaeology, Johns Hopkins University		Department of History, Western Reserve University

C. W. C. OMAN, LL.D.,		SIR EDWARD S. CREASY,
	Professor of History, Oxford University		Late Professor of History, University College, London

THEODOR MOMMSEN,		ARCHIBALD CARY COOLIDGE, Ph.D.,
	Late Professor of Ancient History, University of Berlin		Assistant Professor of History, Harvard University

ARTHUR C. HOWLAND, Ph.D.,		WILLIAM RICHARD MORFILL, M.A.,
	Department of History, University of Pennsylvania		Professor of Russian and other Slavonic Languages, Oxford University

CHARLES MERIVALE, LL.D.,		CHARLES EDMUND FRYER, Ph.D.,
	Late Dean of Ely, formerly Lecturer in History, Cambridge University		Department of History, McGill University

J. HIGGINSON CABOT, Ph.D.,		E. C. OTTE,
	Department of History, Wellesley College		Specialist on Scandinavian History

SIR WILLIAM W. HUNTER, F.R.S.,		EDWARD S. CORWIN, Ph.D.,
	Late Director-General of Statistics in India		Instructor in History, Princeton University

GEORGE M. DUTCHER, Ph.D.,		PAUL LOUIS LEGER,
	Professor of History, Wesleyan University		Professor of the Slav Languages, College de France

SIR ROBERT K. DOUGLAS,		WILLIAM E. LINGLEBACH, Ph.D.,
	Professor of Chinese, King’s College, London		Assistant Professor of European History, University of Pennsylvania

JEREMIAH WHIPPLE JENKS, Ph.D., LL.D.,		BAYARD TAYLOR,
	Professor of Political Economy and Politics, Cornell University		Former United States Minister to Germany

KANICHI ASAKAWA, Ph.D.,		SIDNEY B. FAY, Ph.D.,
	Instructor in the History of Japanese Civilization, Yale University		Professor of History, Dartmouth College

WILFRED HAROLD MUNRO, Ph.D.,		J. SCOTT KELTIE, LL.D.,
	Professor of European History, Brown University		President Royal Geographical Society

G. MERCER ADAM,		ALBERT GALLOWAY KELLER, Ph.D.,
	Historian and Editor		Assistant Professor of the Science of Society, Yale University

FRED MORROW FLING, Ph.D.,		EDWARD JAMES PAYNE, M.A.,
	Professor of European History, University of Nebraska		Fellow of University College, Oxford

FRANÇOIS AUGUSTE MARIE MIGNET,		PHILIP PATTERSON WELLS, Ph.D.,
	Late Member of the French Academy		Lecturer in History and Librarian of the Law School, Yale University

JAMES WESTFALL THOMPSON, Ph.D.,		FREDERICK ALBION OBER,
	Department of History, University of Chicago		Historian, Author and Traveler

SAMUEL RAWSON GARDINER, LL.D.,		JAMES WILFORD GARNER, Ph.D.,
	Professor of Modern History, King’s College, London		Professor of Political Science, University of Illinois

R. W. JOYCE, LL.D.,		JOHN BACH McMASTER, Litt.D., LL.D.,
	Commissioner for the Publication of the Ancient Laws of Ireland		Professor of History, University of Pennsylvania

JUSTIN McCARTHY, LL.D.,
	Author and Historian

AUGUSTUS HUNT SHEARER, Ph.D.,
	Instructor in History, Trinity College, Hartford

JAMES LAMONT PERKINS, Managing Editor



CONTENTS


PART I

HISTORY OF THE PENINSULA TO THE DECLINE
OF ROME. 402 A.D.

CHAPTER		PAGE
I.	Early History	3
II.	The Romans in Spain. 218 B.C.-409 A.D.	16
III.	Political and Religious State under the Romans	28


PART II
THE PENINSULA UNDER THE GOTHS
409-755 A.D.

IV.	History of the Goths. 409-755 A.D.	35
V.	Condition of the People under the Goths	53


PART III
THE PENINSULA UNDER THE ARABS AND
THE MOORS. 711-1492

VI.	Dominion of the Arabs. 711-1031	63
VII.	Dominion of the Africans. 1031-1238	85
VIII.	Kingdom of Granada. 1238-1492	104


PART IV
CHRISTIAN SPAIN. 718-1516

IX.	The Asturias, Leon and Castile. 713-1230	129
X.	Kingdom of Navarre. Circa 885-1512	194
XI.	Counts of Barcelona. 801-1162	218
XII.	Kingdom of Aragon. 1035-1516	230
XIII.	Establishment of Portuguese Kingdom. 1095-1516	272


PART V
THE SPANISH MONARCHY. 1516-1788

XIV.	The House of Austria. 1516-1700	339
XV.	House of Bourbon. 1700-1788	386
XVI.	General Condition of the Monarchy. 1516-1788	421


PART VI
THE PORTUGUESE MONARCHY. 1521-1788

XVII.	Last of the Ancient Dynasty. 1521-1640	433
XVIII.	House of Braganza. 1640-1788	462


PART VII
THE ERA OF SPAIN’S DECLINE. 1788-1910

XIX.	Events of the Critical Era to the Close of the First Carlist War. 1788-1840	479
XX.	Last Years of Maria Christina, and the Era of Queen Isabella II. 1840-1868	499
XXI.	The Brief Reign of Amadeus, and the Bourbon Restoration. 1868-1910	510


PART VIII
PORTUGAL IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

XXII.	Events to the Close of the Peninsular War. 1789-1815	525
XXIII.	Growth of the Constitutional Monarchy. 1816-1910	533

	Bibliography	543

	Index	551

	PAGE
Peninsula under Ancient Tribes	11
Spain under Roman Dominion	29
Political Divisions of Spain and Portugal. 910 A.D.	77
Andalusia	122
The Spanish Kingdoms. Fourteenth Century	193
The Kingdom of Aragon	229
Spanish Dominion in the Sixteenth Century	271
Colonial Empire of Portugal. Early Sixteenth Century	336
Portugal Under the House of Braganza. 1640	475
Color Map of Spain and Portugal to-day	Endpiece

The Surrender of Granada (Photogravure).	Frontispiece
	FACING PAGE
Thorismund is Elected King of the Visigoths	38
Alfonso VIII. on the Battlefield of Tolosa	100
The Lions’ Court in the Alhambra at Granada	110
Queen Isabella Pledges Her Jewels to Columbus	186
Pedro III. in Sight of the Besieged City of Messina	244
Joam I. of Portugal Gains the Victory at Aljubarota	298
Carlos I.	340
The Death of Charles V.	352
The Expulsion of the Moriscos	370
Velasquez	380
Philip II.	424
The Heroic Defense of Saragossa	488
An Attack by Basque Carlists	512
Camoëns	540

INTRODUCTION SPAIN PAST AND PRESENT By Wilfred Harold Munro, Ph. D. Professor of History, Brown University

INTRODUCTION

SPAIN PAST AND PRESENT

PART I HISTORY OF THE PENINSULA TO THE DECLINE OF ROME. 402 A.D.

Chapter I

EARLY HISTORY

Chapter II

THE ROMANS IN SPAIN, 218 B.C.-409 A.D.

Chapter III

POLITICAL AND RELIGIOUS STATE UNDER THE ROMANS

PART II THE PENINSULA UNDER THE GOTHS 409-755 A.D.

Chapter IV

HISTORY OF THE GOTHS, 409-755 A.D.

Chapter V

CONDITION OF THE PEOPLE UNDER THE GOTHS

PART III THE PENINSULA UNDER THE ARABS AND THE MOORS. 711-1492

Chapter VI

DOMINION OF THE ARABS. 711-1031

Chapter VII

DOMINION OF THE AFRICANS. 1031-1238

Chapter VIII

KINGDOM OF GRANADA. 1238-1492

PART IV CHRISTIAN SPAIN. 718-1516

Chapter IX

THE ASTURIAS, LEON, AND CASTILE. 713-1230

Chapter X

KINGDOM OF NAVARRE. CIRCA 885-1512

Chapter XI

COUNTS OF BARCELONA. 801-1162

Chapter XII

KINGDOM OF ARAGON. 1035-1516

Chapter XIII

ESTABLISHMENT OF PORTUGUESE KINGDOM. 1095-1516

PART V THE SPANISH MONARCHY 1516-1788

Chapter XIV

THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA. 1516-1700

Chapter XV

HOUSE OF BOURBON. 1700-1788

Chapter XVI

GENERAL CONDITION OF THE MONARCHY 1516-1788

PART VI THE PORTUGUESE MONARCHY 1521-1788 A.D.

Chapter XVII

LAST OF THE ANCIENT DYNASTY. 1521-1640.

Chapter XVIII

HOUSE OF BRAGANZA. 1640-1788

PART VII THE ERA OF SPAIN’S DECLINE 1788-1910 A.D.

Chapter XIX

EVENTS OF THE CRITICAL ERA TO THE CLOSE OF THE FIRST CARLIST WAR. 1788-1840 BY THE EDITOR

Chapter XX

LAST YEARS OF MARIA CHRISTINA, AND THE ERA OF QUEEN ISABELLA II. 1840-1868

Chapter XXI

THE BRIEF REIGN OF AMADEUS, AND THE BOURBON RESTORATION. 1868-1910

PART VIII PORTUGAL IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

Chapter XXII

EVENTS TO THE CLOSE OF THE PENINSULAR WAR 1789-1815

Chapter XXIII

GROWTH OF THE CONSTITUTIONAL MONARCHY 1816-1910

BIBLIOGRAPHY

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

SPAIN PAST AND PRESENT
By Wilfred Harold Munro, Ph. D.
Professor of History, Brown University

PART I

HISTORY OF THE PENINSULA TO THE
DECLINE OF ROME. 402 A.D.

PART II

THE PENINSULA UNDER THE GOTHS
409-755 A.D.

PART III

THE PENINSULA UNDER THE ARABS AND
THE MOORS. 711-1492

PART IV

CHRISTIAN SPAIN. 718-1516

PART V

THE SPANISH MONARCHY
1516-1788

GENERAL CONDITION OF THE MONARCHY
1516-1788

PART VI

THE PORTUGUESE MONARCHY
1521-1788 A.D.

PART VII

THE ERA OF SPAIN’S DECLINE
1788-1910 A.D.

EVENTS OF THE CRITICAL ERA TO THE CLOSE OF THE
FIRST CARLIST WAR. 1788-1840
BY THE EDITOR

LAST YEARS OF MARIA CHRISTINA, AND THE ERA OF
QUEEN ISABELLA II. 1840-1868

THE BRIEF REIGN OF AMADEUS, AND THE BOURBON
RESTORATION. 1868-1910

PART VIII

PORTUGAL IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

EVENTS TO THE CLOSE OF THE PENINSULAR WAR
1789-1815

GROWTH OF THE CONSTITUTIONAL MONARCHY
1816-1910