Читать книгу Spain and Her Colonies - Archibald Wilberforce - Страница 5

Table of Contents

THE FOUNDERS OF MODERN SPAIN—THE KINGDOMS OF THE ASTURIAS AND OF LEON—THE DEFEAT AT RONCESVALLES—THE CID CAMPEADOR

The Crescent had conquered, but the Cross endured. The refuge of the latter was in the Asturias, There—eight or ten years after the death of the last of the Gothic kings—Pelayo, one of the early heroes of Spanish history, was reigning over refugees from Moslem rule. It was these refugees who laid the foundation of modern Spain, and it is related that in their fastness at Covadonga, thirty of them, with Pelayo at their head, actually routed, if they did not destroy, an entire army of four hundred thousand Moslem besiegers.

The story is of course mythological, but the good fortune of Pelayo did much to kindle the national spirit by which ultimately Spain was conquered for the Spaniards, and thus the story, if critically false, becomes metaphorically true.

Nor [says Burke] do the Arabs seem to have made any attempt to retrieve or avenge the fortunes of the day. Well satisfied, no doubt, with their unopposed dominion over the rich plains of the genial south country, they were willing to abandon the bleak and inhospitable mountains to their wild inhabitants and the emboldened refugees whom they sheltered. Be the reason what it may, Pelayo seems to have had peace all the days of his life after his victory at Covadonga in 718. Prudently confining his attention to the development of his little kingdom, he reigned, it is said, for nineteen years at Cangas, and, dying in 737, was peacefully succeeded by his son Favila.

Pelayo, no doubt, was but a robber chieftain, a petty mountain prince, and the legends of his royal descent are of later date, and of obviously spurious manufacture; but Pelayo needs no tinsel to adorn his crown. He was the founder of the Spanish monarchy.

Meanwhile, in the recesses of the Pyrenees, a second Christian kingdom, that of Navarre, had been founded by Garcias Iniguez, which, together with Catalonia and Aragon, Charlemagne a little later (778) entered and subdued. In repassing the Pyrenees, however, the Navarrese, led by Fortun Garcias, fell upon the Frankish troops and cut to pieces the rearguard, and even, it is said, the main body of the army.

How far the Spanish Christians were aided, as it has been stated they were, by the Moors, it is impossible to discover. The fact of such an alliance, in itself sufficiently improbable, is quite unnecessary to explain the ever-famous defeat at Roncesvalles.

Nor can we speak with much greater confidence of the prowess or even of the existence of the equally famous Roland, in the ranks of the invading or evading army; or of that of the no less celebrated Bernardo del Carpio in the ranks of the pursuers.

Taillefer, who sang the song of Roland upon the battlefield of Hastings, and Terouldes, whose thirteenth century epic suggested the poems of Pulci, of Boiardo, and of greatest Ariosto, all these have made Roland one of the favorite heroes of the Middle Ages. But in the story, as it is told in the Spanish ballads, it is Bernardo del Carpio, the nephew of the chaste but pusillanimous Alfonso, who is the true hero of Roncesvalles, and who not only repulsed the host of Charlemagne, but caught up the invulnerable Roland in his arms, and squeezed him to death before his army. No carpet knight or courtier was Bernardo, but a true Cantabrian mountaineer.

In 790 Alfonso II., the great-grandson of the great Pelayo, then king of Oviedo, repulsed the Mussulman army with great slaughter, and abolished the ignominious tribute of one hundred virgins, an annual tribute paid to the Muhammadan ruler, fifty virgins being of noble and fifty of base or ignoble birth. From this circumstance is derived, by some historians, his surname of the Chaste; attributed by others to his having made a solemn vow of virginity, and observed it, even in marriage. This vow, and the austere temper in which it probably originated, had considerable influence over Alfonso’s life. He so deeply resented his sister Ximena’s private marriage with a subject, the Count of Saldanha, that he shut her up in a convent; and putting out her husband’s eyes, sentenced him to perpetual imprisonment.

The royal line of Navarre or Sobrarve was at this time extinct, Ximenes Garcias, the grandson of Fortun Garcias, having died without children. The nobles availed themselves of the opportunity to establish the famous code entitled “Los Fueros de Sobrarve”—the laws of Sobrarve—which subsequently became the groundwork of the liberties of Aragon. Navarre was soon afterward recovered by the Moors, and Sobrarve included in the Spanish March.

Alfonso ruled upward of fifty years. Incessant wars now followed between the followers of the Cross and the Crescent, and a frenzy for martyrdom on the part of the Christians had to be repressed by a Christian archbishop at the solemn request of the Cadis.

Garcia of Oviedo died without children shortly after his accession; when his brother Ordoño II. reunited the whole of his father’s dominions. He transferred the seat of government to Leon, and altered the title of King of Oviedo into that of King of Leon.

This Ordoño abandoned the peaceful policy of his greater father, and undertook many expeditions with varying and uncertain success against the Arabs. He plundered Merida in 917, and routed the Berbers in Southern Spain in 918. Yet three years later, at Val de Junqueras (921), near Pamplona, the Christians suffered disastrous defeat. The usual rebellion at home was appeased by the treacherous execution or murder of no less than four counts of Castile in 922, and was followed by the king’s death in 923.

Of Fruela II. (923-925), Alfonso IV. (925-930), and Ramiro II. (930-950), little need be said, but that they lived and reigned as kings of Leon.

To Ramiro, however, is due, at least, the honor of an authentic victory over the Moslem forces of the great Caliph, Abdur Rahman an Nasir (939), at Simancas, and afterward in the same year at Alhandega.

Ramiro, after the usual rebellion, abdicated, in 950, in favor of his son Ordoño—who had married Urraca, daughter of the principal rebel of the day, Fernan Gonzalez, count of Castile—and who succeeded his father as Ordoño III.

But decapitation was a far more certain way of suppressing rebellion than matrimony; and Fernan Gonzalez lived to intrigue against his daughter and her royal husband in favor of Sancho, a younger brother of the king. Ordoño, however, held his own against his brother, and revenged himself on his father-in-law, by repudiating his wife; who, with her personal and family grievances, was promptly acquired by Sancho, who succeeded, on his brother’s death, to the crown of which he had failed to possess himself by force. But even as a legitimate sovereign, Sancho, surnamed the Fat, was not allowed to reign in peace. He was driven from his kingdom by that most versatile rebel, Count Fernan Gonzalez, and sought refuge at the court of his uncle Garcia of Navarre at Pamplona. Thence, in company with Garcia, and his mother Theuda, he journeyed to the court of the Caliph at Cordova, where the distinguished visitors were received with great show of welcome by Abdur Rahman at Az Zahra; and where Hasdai, the Jew, the most celebrated physician of the day, succeeded in completely curing Sancho of the distressing malady—a morbid and painful corpulency—which incapacitated him from the active discharge of his royal duties.

The study and practice of medicine were alike disregarded by the rude dwellers in Leon; but the Cordovan doctor, surpassing in his success, if not in his skill, the most celebrated physicians of the present day, contrived to reduce the king’s overgrown bulk to normal proportions, and restored him to his former activity and vigor, both of body and mind. Nor was the skill of Hasdai confined to the practice of medicine. An accomplished diplomatist, he negotiated a treaty with his Christian patient, by which Sancho bound himself to give up ten frontier fortresses to the Caliph, on his restoration to the crown of Leon, while Don Garcia and Dona Theuda undertook to invade Castile in order to divert the attention of the common foe, the ever-ready Fernan Gonzalez.

In due time Sancho, no longer the fat, but the hale, returned to Leon at the head of a Moslem army, placed at his disposal by his noble host at Cordova, drove out the usurper, Ordoño the Bad, and reigned in peace in his Christian dominions. The visit of this dispossessed Ordoño to the court of the Caliph Hakam at Cordova, in 962, is an interesting specimen of the international politics or policy of his age and country.

As Sancho had recovered his throne, by the aid of Abdur Rahman, so Ordoño sought to dethrone him and make good his own pretensions by the aid of Hakam. The Caliph, already harassed by Fernan Gonzalez, and doubting the honesty of King Sancho, was not ill-pleased to have another pretender in hand, and Ordoño was invited to Cordova, and received by Hakam in the palace at Az Zahra with the utmost pomp and display. The Leonese prince craved in humble language the assistance of the Moslem, and professed himself his devoted friend, ally, and vassal; and he was permitted to remain at the Court of Hakam, to await the issue of events in the north. Some few days afterward a treaty was solemnly signed between the Caliph and the Pretender, and once more the glories of Az Zahra were displayed to the eyes of the astonished barbarian from Leon.

Nor did the fame of these splendid ceremonies fail to reach Sancho in the northwest; and his spirit of independence was considerably cooled by the prospect of a Moslem army, headed by his cousin Ordoño, making its appearance before his ill-defended frontiers. The maneuver was sufficiently familiar; and the reigning monarch lost no time in disassociating himself from the hostile proceedings of Fernan Gonzalez; and sending an important embassy to Hakam at Cordova, to assure him of his unwavering loyalty, he hastened to announce his readiness to carry out to the letter all the provisions of his recent treaty with the Caliph. Hakam was satisfied. Ordoño languished disregarded at Cordova, despised alike by Moslem and Christian, but unharmed and in safety as the guest of the Arab. Sancho reigned in peace until 967, when he was poisoned by the rebel count of the day, Sanchez of Galicia. His son, who was known as Ramiro III., an unwise and incapable monarch, reigned at Leon from 967 to 982, without extending the possessions or the influence of the Christians in Spain; and Bermudo II., who usurped the throne, was no match for the fiery Almanzor, who ravaged his kingdom, took possession of his capital, and compelled the Christian Court to take refuge in the wild mountains of the Asturias, and once more to pay tribute to the Moslem at Cordova.

Bermudo died in 999; and on the death of Almanzor, three years later, the Christian fortunes under the young Alfonso V., who had succeeded his father Bermudo, at the age of only five, began to mend. Cordova was given up to anarchy. The Moslem troops retired from Northern Spain. Leon became once more the abode of the king and his court, and though Alfonso gave his sister in marriage to Mohammed, an Emir or Vali of Toledo, he extended his Christian dominion in more than one foray against the declining power of the Moslem.

Alfonso V., who is known in Spanish history as the Restorer of Leon, sought to consolidate his own power, as he certainly exalted that of his clergy, by the summoning of a Council, after the manner of the Visigothic Councils of Toledo. The Council met at the city of Leon on the 1st of August, 1020, in the Cathedral Church of St. Mary. The king and his queen Elvira presided, and all the bishops and the principal abbots and nobles of the kingdom took their seats in the assembly. And if there was no Leander, nor Isidore, nor Julian to impose his will upon king or council, the interests of the Church were not entirely overlooked. Of the fifty-eight decrees and canons of this Council, the first seventeen relate exclusively to matters ecclesiastical, the next twenty are laws for the government of the kingdom, the remaining thirty-one are municipal ordinances for the city of Leon.

But Alfonso V. was not exempted from the usual rebellions, and marriages, and assassinations, and executions, which constituted the politics of the day. Garcia, the last Count of Castile, was treacherously slain in 1026; and Alfonso was himself more honorably killed in an attack upon a Moslem town in Lusitania in 1027.

The life of Fernan Gonzalez, the Warwick of medieval Spain, is almost as much overlaid with romantic legends as that of Roderic or Roland. The lives and deeds of his ancestors, and the origin of his ever-celebrated County of Castile, are involved in the utmost confusion and obscurity; but Fernan Gonzalez himself is at least a historical personage. He married Sancha, daughter of Sancho Abarca of Navarre, and their son, Garcia Fernandez, succeeded him as hereditary Count of Castile.

As early as the year 905, Sancho, a Christian chief of whose ancestors and predecessors much has been written, much surmised, and nothing is certainly known, was king or ruler of the little border state of Navarre. A prudent as well as a warlike sovereign, he fortified his capital city of Pamplona, and when his son, in alliance with Ordoño II. of Leon, was defeated by the Moslems at Val de Junquera, the Navarrese not only made good their retreat to that celebrated fortress, but succeeded in course of a short time in driving the Moslems out of their country. The grandson of this successful general was Sancho El Mayor—or the Great—the most powerful of the Christian princes in Spain (970-1035). Besides Navarre and Sobrarve he held the lordship of Aragon; in 1026, in right of his wife, Muña Elvira, he became king or count of Castile; while his successful interference in the affairs of Leon made him virtual master of all Christian Spain outside the limits of the quasi Frankish county of Catalonia.

Sancho the Great died in 1035, when his territories were divided, according to his will, among his four sons; and from this time forth the history of Navarre, so far as it is not included in the history of Aragon, of Castile, and of France, is a confused and dreary record of family quarrels, of plots and assassinations, of uncertain alliances, of broken treaties. The marriage of the Princess Berengaria with Richard I. of England, in 1191, failed to secure for Sancho V. the influence that he had hoped to secure: and with Sancho VI., who died in 1234, the male line of the house of Sancho Iniguez or Inigo, the founder of Navarre, was extinct. A French prince was chosen by the Navarrese to rule over them. And from the death of Sancho VI., in 1234, to the death of Charles the Bad, in 1387—one hundred and fifty years—the history of Navarre is that of France.

Bermudo III., who succeeded, on the death of his father, Alfonso V., in 1027, as king of Leon, was at once attacked by his powerful neighbors, and the little States were distracted by family quarrels and civil war until the death of Bermudo in battle, in 1037, when the male line of the house of Leon became extinct.

On the death of Bermudo III. in 1037, Ferdinand I., king of Castile, the second son of Sancho the Great, succeeded to the kingdom of Leon, and became, after over twenty years of civil war (1058), the most powerful monarch in all Spain. The Moslems offered but an uncertain and half-hearted resistance to his arms. For while the Christians were growing strong, the Moslem empire was already declining to its fall. And the decay of the Caliphate of Cordova, and the internal dissensions of the Arabs, enabled Ferdinand not only to recover all the territory that had been conquered by Almanzor, but to pursue the disheartened Moslem as far as Valencia, Toledo, and Coimbra. Ferdinand confirmed the Fueros of Alfonso V., and summoned a council at Coyanza (Valencia de Don Juan), over which, with his Queen Sancha, he presided in 1050. All the bishops and abbots, together with a certain number of lay nobles thus assembled ad restaurationem nostræ Christianitatis, proceeded to make decrees or canons, after the manner of the Councils of Toledo, of which the first seven were devoted to matters ecclesiastical, and the remainder connected with the civil government of the country. With territories thus recovered and augmented, with cities restored and fortified, Ferdinand determined to excel all his Christian predecessors, and to emulate the noble example of the Arab, by enriching his dominion, not with treasures of art or literature, with schools, with palaces, with manuscripts—but with the bones of as many martyrs as he could collect.

An army was raised for this sacred purpose, and the country of the Moors was once more invaded and harried by the Christian arms. Ibn Obeid of Seville, learning the objects of the invasion, offered Ferdinand every facility for research in his city; and a solemn commission of bishops and nobles were admitted within the walls to seek the body of Justus, one of the martyrs of Diocletian. But in spite of all the diligence of the Christians, and all the goodwill of the Arabs, the sacred remains could nowhere be found. At length the spirit of Saint Isidore removed the difficulty by appearing miraculously before the Commission, and offering his own bones in the place of those of Justus, which were destined, said he, to remain untouched at Seville. The Commission was satisfied. And the body of the great Metropolitan, “fragrant with balsamic odors,” was immediately removed to the Church of St. John the Baptist at Leon—to the great satisfaction of both Christians and Moors, in 1063.

It was on the occasion of the return of these blessed relics to the Christian capital that Ferdinand proclaimed the future division of his kingdom. For after all the success that had attended the Union of the dominions of Leon and Castile under the sole authority of Ferdinand, who rather perhaps for his sanctity than for his wisdom had earned the title of the Great, the king made the same grievous mistake that his father had done before him, in dividing his united territories at his death (1065) among his sons and daughters. To Sancho, the eldest son, he left the kingdom of Castile; to Alfonso, Leon and the Asturias; to Garcia, Galicia; to his younger daughter, Elvira, the town and district of Toro, and to her elder sister Urraca the famous border city of Zamora, the most debatable land in all Spain, and a strange heritage for a young lady. Thus Castile and Leon were once more separated; and the usual civil wars and family intrigues naturally followed. Alfonso, though not at first the most successful, survived all his rivals, and was at length proclaimed king of Leon and Castile.

But the successes and glories of Alfonso VI., such as they were, are overshadowed by the prowess of a Castilian hero, whose exploits form one of the most favorite chapters in the national history of Spain—the Christian knight with the Moslem title—Ruy Diaz, The Cid.

Two years before William of Normandy landed at Hastings, a Castilian knight, a youth who had already won for himself the proud title of The Challenger, from his reckless bravery and his success in single combat, is found leading the royal armies of Sancho of Castile against the enemy. The knight was Ruy Diaz de Bivar. The enemy was Alfonso VI. of Leon, the brother of Sancho, who was endeavoring to reunite the inheritance divided by his father, in the good old medieval fashion in Spain.

Of noble birth and parentage, a Castilian of the Castilians, Roderic or Ruy Diaz was born at Bivar, near Burgos, about the year 1040. His position in the army of Sancho was that of Alferez, in title the Standard-bearer, in effect the major-general or second in command, if not commander-in-chief of the king’s army.

For seven years Alfonso of Leon and Sancho of Castile had been at war, each seeking to destroy the other; and at length at Golpejara, near Carrion, on the eve of what promised to be a decisive battle, a solemn engagement was entered into by the brothers that whichever of the two was worsted in the encounter should resign his kingdom to the other without further bloodshed. The Castilians, in spite of Sancho and his famous Champion, were defeated at Golpejara; and Alfonso of Leon, foolishly trusting his brother’s word, took no heed to improve his victory, and his unsuspecting army was overwhelmed the next day by the Castilian troops under Ruy Diaz de Bivar, the author of this exceedingly characteristic, if not entirely authentic piece of treachery.

It is scarcely surprising that the Cid was not trusted by Alfonso of Leon, when he, in his turn, succeeded to the crown of Castile. But for the moment Alfonso was not only deprived of his throne and of his liberty by his more successful brother, but he was compelled to purchase his life by a promise to enter the monastery of Sahagun. Disregarding this vow, and making good his escape to Toledo, the royal refugee was received with the usual hospitality of the Arab by El Mamun, the Moslem ruler of the city, who sheltered and entertained him, as he himself admitted, “like a son.”

Sancho meanwhile had turned his arms against his brother Garcia, whom he dispossessed of his territories; against his sister Elvira, who met with a similar fate, and, lastly, against his sister Urraca, who withstood him boldly in her city of Zamora. And not only did this time-honored fortress resist the attack of Sancho and his wily major-general, but the king was slain outside the walls of the city by one of his sister’s knights. Alfonso thus not only recovered his own kingdom of Leon, but, swearing perpetual friendship with El Mamun of Toledo, he was elected king of Castile by the Commons assembled at Burgos; and the defeated refugee of 1071 found himself, in less than two years, the greatest prince in Christian Spain; Alfonso the Sixth of Leon and of Castile.

Yet the legend runs that Alfonso was compelled to undergo the indignity of a public examination, and a triple oath before the knights and nobles assembled at Burgos, to the effect that he had had no share in the murder of King Sancho; and the oath was administered by Ruy Diaz of Bivar, the companion in arms of the Castilian king, sometime the faithless enemy of Carrion, but now the acknowledged leader of the Castilian nobility.

Alfonso of Leon may have forgiven the treachery in the field, but he never forgot the insult in the Council. He restrained his indignation, however, and was even induced by reasons of State to grant to the bold Castilian lord the hand of his cousin Ximena in marriage, and to intrust him with the command of an expedition into Andalusia. But the royal favor was of brief duration; and in 1081 we find that Roderic, partly owing to the intrigues of Garcia Ordonez, and partly to the enduring enmity of the king, was banished from the Christian dominions.

Of all the petty sovereignties that came into existence on the breaking up of the Ommeyad Caliphate of Cordova, that of Moctadir, the chief of the Ben-i-hud of Saragossa, was the most powerful in Northern or Central Spain; and at the Moslem court of Saragossa, Ruy Diaz, with his fame and his followers, was warmly welcomed (1081) by Moctadir as a Said or Cid—a lord or leader of the Arabs. He had been driven out of Castile by Alfonso. He found a home and honorable command at Saragossa. So long as he could make war upon his neighbors, all countries were alike to Roderic of Bivar. Nor was it long before his prowess brought honor and profit to Moctadir, or, rather, to his son and successor, Motamin.

Ramon Berenguer III., count of Barcelona, was engaged, like other Christian princes of his time, in chronic warfare with his Moslem neighbors; and Motamin, with his Castilian Cid, marching against the Catalans, defeated the Christians with great slaughter at Almenara, near Lerida, and brought Ramon Berenguer a prisoner to Saragossa (1081), where the victorious Cid was loaded with presents by the grateful Motamin, and invested with an authority in the kingdom subordinate only to that of the king himself. Two years later (1083) an expedition was undertaken by the Moslems, under Roderic, against their Christian neighbors in Aragon. King Sancho Ramirez was completely defeated by the Castilian champion, who returned once more to Saragossa loaded with booty and renown. In 1084 the Cid seems to have paid a friendly visit to the court of Alfonso VI. But although he was apparently well received, he suspected treachery, and, returning to the court of the Moslem, once more took service under the delighted Motamin. His next campaign, undertaken in the following year, was not against any Christian power, but against the hostile Moslems of northern Valencia, and was crowned with the usual success. Motamin died in 1085, but the Cid remained in the service of his son and successor, Mostain, fighting against Christian and Moslem as occasion offered, partly for the King of Saragossa, but chiefly for the personal advantage of Ruy Diaz of Bivar. A stranger national hero it is hard to imagine! Nor were his subsequent proceedings in any degree less strange.

Al Mamun, the host and protector of Alfonso VI., had died in 1075, leaving, his grandson, Cadir, to succeed him as sovereign of Toledo. Abdulaziz, the viceroy of the subject city of Valencia, took advantage of the weakness of the young prince to declare himself independent, and placing himself under the protection of the Christians, undertook to pay a large subsidy to Alfonso VI. in return for his recognition and support. The subsidy was punctually paid, and, in spite of a present of no less than a hundred thousand pieces of gold handed over by Moctadir of Saragossa to Alfonso as the price of Valencia, Abdulaziz retained his hold of the city until his death in 1085. On this, numerous pretenders to the government immediately arose, including Moctadir of Saragossa, a purchaser for value, and the two sons of Abdulaziz; while Alfonso took advantage of the confusion that ensued to persuade Cadir to surrender Toledo, much coveted by the Christian king, and to accept, or, more exactly, to retain, for himself the sovereignty of Valencia, under the humiliating protection of Castile. Alfonso cared nothing that Toledo was the inheritance of his youthful ally, the home of his old protector, when he himself was a hunted refugee. He cared nothing that the Valencians were hostile to Cadir, and that powerful neighbors were prepared to dispute his possession. He cared nothing that Moctadir, who had actually purchased the city from Alfonso himself, was on the way to make good his claim. A treaty was forced upon Cadir by which Toledo was surrendered to Alfonso VI. (1085), and the Christian king was bound to place and maintain the unhappy prince in possession of his own subordinate city of Valencia.