[687] For the earliest editions of the Coplas, 1492, 1494, and 1501, see Mendez, Typog. Española, p. 136. I possess ten or twelve copies of other editions, one of which was printed at Boston, 1833, with Mr. Longfellow’s translation. My copies, dated 1574, 1588, 1614, 1632, and 1799, all have Glosas in verse. That of Aranda is in folio, 1552, black letter, and in prose.
At the end of a translation of the “Inferno” of Dante, made by Pero Fernandez de Villegas, Archdeacon of Burgos, published at Burgos in 1515, folio, with an elaborate commentary, chiefly from that of Landino,—a very rare book, and one of considerable merit,—is found, in a few copies, a poem on the “Vanity of Life,” by the translator, which, though not equal to the Coplas of Manrique, reminds me of them. It is called “Aversion del Mundo y Conversion á Dios,” and is divided, with too much formality, into twenty stanzas on the contempt of the world, and twenty in honor of a religious life; but the verses, which are in the old national manner, are very flowing, and their style is that of the purest and richest Castilian. It opens thus:—
Away, malignant, cruel world,
With sin and sorrow rife!
I seek the meeker, wiser way
That leads to heavenly life.
Your fatal poisons here we drink,
Lured by their savors sweet,
Though, lurking in our flowery path,
The serpent wounds our feet.
Away with thy deceitful snares,
Which all too late I fly!—
I, who, a coward, followed thee
Till my last years are nigh;
Till thy most strange, revolting sins
Force me to turn from thee,
And drive me forth to seek repose,
Thy service hard to flee.
Away with all thy wickedness,
And all thy heartless toil,
Where brother, to his brother false,
In treachery seeks for spoil!—
Dead is all charity in thee,
All good in thee is dead;
I seek a port where from thy storm
To hide my weary head.
I add the original, for the sake of its flowing sweetness and power:—
Quedate, mundo malino,
Lleno de mal y dolor,
Que me vo tras el dulçor
Del bien eterno divino.
Tu tosigo, tu venino,
Vevemos açucarado,
Y la sierpe esta en el prado
De tu tan falso camino.
Quedate con tus engaños,
Maguera te dexo tarde,
Que te segui de cobarde
Fasta mis postreros años.
Mas ya tus males estraños
De ti me alançan forçoso,
Vome a buscar el reposo
De tus trabajosos daños.
Quedate con tu maldad,
Con tu trabajo inhumano,
Donde el hermano al hermano
No guarda fe ni verdad.
Muerta es toda caridad;
Todo bien en ti es ya muerto;—
Acojome para el puerto,
Fuyendo tu tempestad.
After the forty stanzas to which the preceding lines belong, follow two more poems, the first entitled “The Complaint of Faith,” partly by Diego de Burgos and partly by Pero Fernandez de Villegas, and the second, a free translation of the Tenth Satire of Juvenal, by Gerónimo de Villegas, brother of Pero Fernandez,—each poem in about seventy or eighty octave stanzas, of arte mayor, but neither of them as good as the “Vanity of Life.” Gerónimo also translated the Sixth Satire of Juvenal into coplas de arte mayor, and published it at Valladolid in 1519, in 4to.
[688] Mariana, Hist., Lib. XXIV. c. 19, noticing his death, says, “He died in his best years,”—“en lo mejor de su edad”; but we do not know how old he was. On three other occasions, at least, Don Jorge is mentioned in the great Spanish historian as a personage important in the affairs of his time; but on yet a fourth,—that of the death of his father, Rodrigo,—the words of Mariana are so beautiful and apt, that I transcribe them in the original. “Su hijo D. Jorge Manrique, en unas trovas muy elegantes, en que hay virtudes poeticas y ricas esmaltes de ingenio, y sentencias graves, a manera de endecha, lloró la muerte de su padre.” Lib. XXIV. c. 14. It is seldom History goes out of its bloody course to render such a tribute to Poetry, and still more seldom that it does it so gracefully. The old ballad on Jorge Manrique is in Fuentes, Libro de los Quarenta Cantos, Alcalá, 1587, 12mo, p. 374.
[689] Cancionero de las Obras de Don Pedro Manuel de Urrea, Logroño, fol., 1513, apud Ig. de Asso, De Libris quibusdam Hispanorum Rarioribus, Cæsaraugustæ, 1794, 4to, pp. 89-92.
En el placiente verano,
Dó son los dias mayores,
Acabaron mis placeres,
Comenzaron mis dolores.
Quando la tierra da yerva
Y los arboles dan flores,
Quando aves hacen nidos
Y cantan los ruiseñores;
Quando en la mar sosegada
Entran los navegadores,
Quando los lirios y rosas
Nos dan buenos olores;
Y quando toda la gente,
Ocupados de calores,
Van aliviando las ropas,
Y buscando los frescores;
Dó son las mejores oras
La noches y los albores;—
En este tiempo que digo,
Comenzaron mis amores.
De una dama que yo ví,
Dama de tantos primores,
De quantos es conocida
De tantos tiene loores:
Su gracia por hermosura
Tiene tantos servidores,
Quanto yo por desdichado
Tengo penas y dolores:
Donde se me otorga muerte
Y se me niegan favores.
Mas nunca olvidaré
Estos amargos dulzores,
Porque en la mucha firmeza
Se muestran los amadores.
[690] The monk, however, finds it impossible to keep his secret, and fairly lets it out in a sort of acrostic at the end of the “Retablo.” He was born in 1468, and died after 1518.
[691] The “Doze Triumfos de los Doze Apóstolos was printed entire in London, 1843, 4to, by Don Miguel del Riego, Canon of Oviedo, and brother of the Spanish patriot and martyr of the same name. In the volume containing the Triumfos, the Canon has given large extracts from the “Retablo de la Vida de Christo,” omitting Cantos VII., VIII., IX., and X. For notices of Juan de Padilla, see Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 751, and Tom. II. p. 332; Mendez, Typog. Esp., p. 193; and Sarmiento, Memorias, Sect. 844-847. From the last, it appears that he rose to important ecclesiastical authority under the crown, as well as in his own order. The Doze Triumfos was first printed in 1512, the Retablo in 1505. There is a contemporary Spanish book, with a title something resembling that of the Retablo de la Vida de Christo del Cartuxano;—I mean the “Vita Christi Cartuxano,” which is a translation of the “Vita Christi” of Ludolphus of Saxony, a Carthusian monk who died about 1370, made into Castilian by Ambrosio Montesino, and first published at Seville, in 1502. It is, in fact, a Life of Christ, compiled out of the Evangelists, with ample commentaries and reflections from the Fathers of the Church,—the whole filling four folio volumes,—and in the version of Montesino it appears in a grave, pure Castilian prose. It was translated by him at the command, he says, of Ferdinand and Isabella.
[692] My copy is of the first edition, of Çamora, Centenera, 1483, folio, 23 leaves, double columns, black letter. It begins with these singular words, instead of a title-page: “Aqui comença un tratado en estillo breve, en sentencias no solo largo mas hondo y prolixo, el qual ha nombre Vita Beata, hecho y compuesto por el honrado y muy discreto Juan de Lucena,” etc. There are also editions of 1499 and 1541, and, I believe, yet another of 1501. (Antonio, Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. II. p. 250; and Mendez, Typog., p. 267.) The following short passage—with an allusion to the opening of Juvenal’s Tenth Satire, in better taste than is common in similar works of the same period—will well illustrate its style. It is from the remarks of the Bishop, in reply both to the poet and to the man of the world. “Resta, pues, Señor Marques y tu Juan de Mena, mi sentencia primera verdadera, que ninguno en esta vida vive beato. Desde Cadiz hasta Ganges si toda la tierra expiamos [espiamos?] a ningund mortal contenta su suerte. El caballero entre las puntas se codicia mercader; y el mercader cavallero entre las brumas del mar, si los vientos australes enpreñian las velas. Al parir de las lombardas desea hallarse el pastor en el poblado; en campo el cibdadano; fuera religion los de dentro como peçes y dentro querrian estar los de fuera,” etc. (fol. xviii. a.) The treatise contains many Latinisms and Latin words, after the absurd example of Juan de Mena; but it also contains many good old words that we are sorry have become obsolete.
[693] The oldest edition, which is without date, seems, from its type and paper, to have come from the press of Centenera at Çamora, in which case it was printed about 1480-1483. It begins thus: “Comença el tratado llamado Vision Deleytable, compuesto por Alfonso de la Torre, bachiller, endereçado al muy noble Don Juan de Beamonte, Prior de San Juan en Navarra.” It is not paged, but fills 71 leaves in folio, double columns, black letter. The little known of the different manuscripts and printed editions of the Vision is to be found in Antonio, Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. II. pp. 328, 329, with the note; Mendez, Typog., pp. 100 and 380, with the Appendix, p. 402; and Castro, Biblioteca Española, Tom. I. pp. 630-635. The Vision was written for the instruction of the Prince of Viana, who is spoken of near the end as if still alive; and since this well-known prince, the son of John, king of Navarre and Aragon, was born in 1421 and died in 1461, we know the limits between which the Vision must have been produced. Indeed, being addressed to Beamonte, the Prince’s tutor, it was probably written about 1430-1440, during the Prince’s nonage. One of the old manuscripts of it says, “It was held in great esteem, and, as such, was carefully kept in the chamber of the said king of Aragon.” There is a life of the author in Rezabal y Ugarte, “Biblioteca de los Autores, que han sido individuos de los seis colegios mayores” (Madrid, 1805, 4to, p. 359). The best passage in the Vision Deleytable is at the end; the address of Truth to Reason. There is a poem of Alfonso de la Torre in MS. 7826, in the National Library, Paris (Ochoa, Manuscritos, Paris, 1844, 4to, p. 479); and the poems of the Bachiller Francisco de la Torre in the Cancionero, 1573, (ff. 124-127,) and elsewhere, so much talked about in connection with Quevedo, have sometimes been thought to be his, though the names differ.
[694] Antonio, Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. II. p. 325. Mendez, Typog., p. 315. It is singular that the edition of the “Valerio de las Historias” printed at Toledo, 1541, folio, which bears on its title-page the name of Fern. Perez de Guzman, yet contains, at f. 2, the very letter of Almela, dated 1472, which leaves no doubt that its writer is the author of the book.
[695] The volume of the learned Alonso Ortiz is a curious one, printed at Seville, 1493, folio, 100 leaves. It is noticed by Mendez, (p. 194,) and by Antonio, (Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 39,) who seems to have known nothing about its author, except that he bequeathed his library to the University of Salamanca. Besides the two treatises mentioned in the text, this volume contains an account of the wound received by Ferdinand the Catholic, from the hand of an assassin, at Barcelona, December 7, 1492; two letters from the city and cathedral of Toledo, praying that the name of the newly conquered Granada may not be placed before that of Toledo in the royal title; and an attack on the Prothonotary Juan de Lucena,—probably not the author lately mentioned,—who had ventured to assail the Inquisition, then in the freshness of its holy pretensions. The whole volume is full of bigotry, and the spirit of a triumphant priesthood.
[696] The notices of the life of Pulgar are from the edition of his “Claros Varones,” Madrid, 1775, 4to; but there, as elsewhere, he is said to be a native of the kingdom of Toledo. This, however, is probably a mistake. Oviedo, who knew him personally, says, in his Dialogue on Mendoza, Duke of Infantado, that Pulgar was “de Madrid natural.” Quinquagenas, MS.
[697] Claros Varones, Tít. 3.
[698] Ibid., Tít. 13.
[699] Claros Varones, Tít. 17.
[700] The letters are at the end of the Claros Varones (Madrid, 1775, 4to); which was first printed in 1500.
[701] The Coplas of San Pedro on the Passion of Christ and the Sorrows of the Madonna are in the Cancionero of 1492, (Mendez, p. 135,) and many of his other poems are in the Cancioneros Generales, 1511-1573; for example, in the last, at ff. 155-161, 176, 177, 180, etc.
[702] “El Desprecio de la Fortuna”—with a curious dedication to the Count Urueña, whom he says he served twenty-nine years—is at the end of Juan de Mena’s Works, ed. 1566.
[703] Of Nicolas Nuñez I know only a few poems in the Cancionero General of 1573, (ff. 17, 23, 176, etc.,) one or two of which are not without merit.
[704] Mendez, pp. 185, 283; Brunet, etc. There is a translation of the Carcel into English by good old Lord Berners. (Walpole’s Royal and Noble Authors, London, 1806, 8vo, Vol. I. p. 241. Dibdin’s Ames, London, 1810, 4to, Vol. III. p. 195; Vol. IV. p. 339.) To Diego de San Pedro is also attributed the “Tratado de Arnalte y Lucenda,” of which an edition, apparently not the first, was printed at Burgos in 1522, and another in 1527. (Asso, De Libris Hisp. Rarioribus, Cæsaraugustæ, 1794, 4to, p. 44.) From a phrase in his “Contempt of Fortune,” (Cancionero General, 1573, f. 158,) where he speaks of “aquellas cartas de Amores, escriptas de dos en dos,” I suspect he wrote the “Proceso de Cartas de Amores, que entre dos amantes pasaron,”—a series of extravagant love-letters, full of the conceits of the times; in which last case, he may also be the author of the “Quexa y Aviso contra Amor,” or the story of Luzindaro and Medusina, alluded to in the last of these letters. But as I know no edition of this story earlier than that of 1553, I prefer to consider it in the next period.
[705] The “Question de Amor” was printed as early as 1527, and, besides several editions of it that appeared separately, it often occurs in the same volume with the Carcel. Both are among the few books criticized by the author of the “Diálogo de las Lenguas,” who praises both moderately; the Carcel for its style more than the Question de Amor. (Mayans y Siscar, Orígenes, Tom. II. p. 167.) Both are in the Index Expurgatorius, 1667, pp. 323, 864; the last with a seeming ignorance, that regards it as a Portuguese book.
[706] Accounts of the Cancionero of Baena are found in Castro, “Biblioteca Española” (Madrid, 1785, folio, Tom. I. pp. 265-346); in Puybusque, “Histoire Comparée des Littératures Espagnole et Française” (Paris, 1843, 8vo, Tom. I. pp. 393-397); in Ochoa, “Manuscritos” (Paris, 1844, 4to, pp. 281-286); and in Amador de los Rios, “Estudios sobre los Judios” (Madrid, 1848, 8vo, pp. 408-419). The copy used by Castro was probably from the library of Queen Isabella, (Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., Tom. VI. p. 458, note,) and is now in the National Library, Paris. Its collector, Baena, is sneered at in the Cancionero of Fernan Martinez de Burgos, (Memorias de Alfonso VIII. por Mondexar, Madrid, 1783, 4to, App. cxxxix.,) as a Jew who wrote vulgar verses.
The poems in this Cancionero that are probably not by the persons whose names they bear are short and trifling,—such as might be furnished to men of distinction by humble versifiers, who sought their protection or formed a part of their courts. Thus, a poem already noticed, that bears the name of Count Pero Niño, was, as we are expressly told in a note to it, written by Villasandino, in order that the Count might present himself before the lady Blanche more gracefully than such a rough old soldier would be likely to do, unless he were helped to a little poetical gallantry.
[708] The Cancionero of Lope de Estuñiga is, or was lately, in the National Library at Madrid, among the folio MSS., marked M. 48, well written and filling 163 leaves.
[709] The fashion of making such collections of poetry, generally called “Cancioneros,” was very common in Spain in the fifteenth century, just before and just after the introduction of the art of printing.
One of them, compiled in 1464, with additions of a later date, by Fernan Martinez de Burgos, begins with poems by his father, and goes on with others by Villasandino, who is greatly praised both as a soldier and a writer; by Fernan Sanchez de Talavera, some of which are dated 1408; by Pero Velez de Guevara, 1422; by Gomez Manrique; by Santillana; by Fernan Perez de Guzman; and, in short, by the authors then best known at court. Mem. de Alfonso VIII., Madrid, 1783, 4to, App. cxxxiv.-cxl.
Several other Cancioneros of the same period are in the National Library, Paris, and contain almost exclusively the known fashionable authors of that century; such as Santillana, Juan de Mena, Lopez de Çuñiga [Estuñiga?], Juan Rodriguez del Padron, Juan de Villalpando, Suero de Ribera, Fernan Perez de Guzman, Gomez Manrique, Diego del Castillo, Alvaro Garcia de Santa María, Alonso Alvarez de Toledo, etc. There are no less than seven such Cancioneros in all, notices of which are found in Ochoa, “Catálogo de MSS. Españoles en la Biblioteca Real de Paris,” Paris, 1844, 4to, pp. 378-525.
[710] Sanchez, Poesías Anteriores, Tom. I. p. lxi., with the notes on the passage relating to the Duke Fadrique.
[711] Fuster, Bib. Valenciana, Tom. I. p. 52. All the Cancioneros mentioned before 1474 are still in MS.
[712] Mendez, Typog., pp. 134-137 and 383.
[713] For the bibliography of these excessively rare and curious books, see Ebert, Bibliographisches Lexicon; and Brunet, Manuel, in verb. Cancionero, and Castillo. I have, I believe, seen copies of eight of the editions. Those which I possess are of 1535 and 1573.
[714] A copy of the edition of 1535, ruthlessly cut to pieces, bears this memorandum:—
“Este libro esta expurgado por el Expurgatorio del Santo Oficio, con licencia.
F. Baptista Martinez.”
The whole of the religious poetry at the beginning is torn out of it.
Imenso Dios, perdurable,
Que el mundo todo criaste,
Verdadero,
Y con amor entrañable
Por nosotros espiraste
En el madero:
Pues te plugo tal passion
Por nuestras culpas sufrir,
O Agnus Dei,
Llevanos do está el ladron,
Que salvaste por decir,
Memento mei.
Cancionero General, Anvers, 1573, f. 5.
Fuster, Bib. Valenciana, (Tom. I. p. 81,) tries to make out something concerning the author of this little poem; but does not, I think, succeed.
[716] In the Library of the Academy of History at Madrid (Misc. Hist., MS., Tom. III., No. 2) is a poem by Diego Lopez de Haro, of about a thousand lines, in a manuscript apparently of the end of the fifteenth or beginning of the sixteenth century, of which I have a copy. It is entitled “Aviso para Cuerdos,”—A Word for the Wise,—and is arranged as a dialogue, with a few verses spoken in the character of some distinguished personage, human or superhuman, allegorical, historical, or from Scripture, and then an answer to each, by the author himself. In this way above sixty persons are introduced, among whom are Adam and Eve, with the Angel that drove them from Paradise, Troy, Priam, Jerusalem, Christ, Julius Cæsar, and so on down to King Bamba and Mahomet. The whole is in the old Spanish verse, and has little poetical thought in it, as may be seen by the following words of Saul and the answer by Don Diego, which I give as a favorable specimen of the entire poem:—
Saul.
En mi pena es de mirar,
Que peligro es para vos
El glosar u el mudar
Lo que manda el alto Dios;
Porque el manda obedecelle;
No juzgalle, mas creelle.
A quien a Dios a de entender,
Lo que el sabe a de saber.
Autor.
Pienso yo que en tal defecto
Cae presto el coraçon
Del no sabio en rreligion,
Creyendo que a lo perfecto
Puede dar mas perficion.
Este mal tiene el glosar;
Luego a Dios quiere enmendar.
Oviedo, in his “Quinquagenas,” says that Diego Lopez de Haro was “the mirror of gallantry among the youth of his time”; and he is known to history for his services in the war of Granada, and as Spanish ambassador at Rome. (See Clemencin, in Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., Tom. VI. p. 404.) He figures in the “Inferno de Amor” of Sanchez de Badajoz; and his poems are found in the Cancionero General, 1573, ff. 82-90, and a few other places.
[717] He founded the fortunes of the family of which the Marquis of Pescara was so distinguished a member in the time of Charles V.; his first achievement having been to kill a Portuguese in fair fight, after public challenge, and in presence of both the armies. The poet rose to be Constable of Castile. Historia de D. Hernando Dávalos, Marques de Pescara, Anvers, 1558, 12mo, Lib. I., c. 1.
[718] Besides what are to be found in the Cancioneros Generales,—for example, in that of 1573, at ff. 148-152, 189, etc.,—there is a MS. in possession of the Royal Academy at Madrid, (Codex No. 114,) which contains a large number of poems by Alvarez Gato. Their author was a person of consequence in his time, and served John II., Henry IV., and Ferdinand and Isabella, in affairs of state. With John he was on terms of friendship. One day, when the king missed him from his hunting-party and was told he was indisposed, he replied, “Let us, then, go and see him; he is my friend,”—and returned to make the kindly visit. Gato died after 1495. Gerónimo Quintana, Historia de Madrid, Madrid, 1629, folio, f. 221.
The poetry of Gato is sometimes connected with public affairs; but, in general, like the rest of that which marks the period when it was written, it is in a courtly and affected tone, and devoted to love and gallantry. Some of it is more lively and natural than most of its doubtful class. Thus, when his lady-love told him “he must talk sense,” he replied, that he had lost the little he ever had from the time when he first saw her, ending his poetical answer with these words:—
But if, in good faith, you require
That sense should come back to me,
Show the kindness to which I aspire,
Give the freedom you know I desire,
And pay me my service fee.
Si queres que de verdad
Torné a mi seso y sentido,
Usad agora bondad,
Torname mi libertad,
E pagame lo servido.
[719] Memorias de la Acad. de Historia, Tom. VI. p. 404. The “Lecciones de Job,” by Badajoz, were early put into the Index Expurgatorius, and kept there to the last.
[720] The Cancionero of 1535 consists of 191 leaves, in large folio, Gothic letters, and triple columns. Of these, the devotional poetry fills eighteen leaves, and the series of authors mentioned above extends from f. 18 to f. 97. It is worth notice, that the beautiful Coplas of Manrique do not occur in any one of these courtly Cancioneros.
[721] The Canciones are found, ff. 98-106.
No se para que nasci,
Pues en tal estremo esto
Que el morir no quiere a mi,
Y el viuir no quiero yo.
Todo el tiempo que viviere
Terne muy justa querella
De la muerte, pues no quiere
A mi, queriendo yo a ella.
Que fin espero daqui,
Pues la muerte me negó,
Pues que claramente vió
Quera vida para mi.
f. 98. b.
[723] These ballads, already noticed, ante, Chap. VI., are in the Cancionero of 1535, ff. 106-115.
[724] “Saco el Rey nuestro señor una red de carcel, y decia la letra:—
Qualquier prision y dolor
Que se sufra, es justa cosa,
Pues se sufre por amor
De la mayor y mejor
Del mundo, y la mas hermosa.
“El conde de Haro saco una noria, y dixo:—
Los llenos, de males mios;
D’ esperança, los vazios.
“El mismo por cimera una carcel y el en ella, y dixo:—
En esta carcel que veys,
Que no se halla salida,
Viuire, mas ved que vida!”
The Invenciones, though so numerous, fill only three leaves, 115 to 117. They occur, also, constantly in the old chronicles and books of chivalry. The “Question de Amor” contains many of them.
[725] Though Lope de Vega, in his “Justa Poética de San Isidro,” (Madrid, 1620, 4to, f. 76,) declares the Glosas to be “a most ancient and peculiarly Spanish composition, never used in any other nation,” they were, in fact, an invention of the Provençal poets, and, no doubt, came to Spain with their original authors. (Raynouard, Troub., Tom. II. pp. 248-254.) The rules for their composition in Spain were, as we see also from Cervantes, (Don Quixote, Parte II. c. 18,) very strict and rarely observed; and I cannot help agreeing with the friend of the mad knight, that the poetical results obtained were little worth the trouble they cost. The Glosas of the Cancionero of 1535 are at ff. 118-120.
[726] The author of the “Diálogo de las Lenguas” (Mayans y Siscar, Orígenes, Tom. II. p. 151) gives the refrain or ritornello of a Villancico, which, he says, was sung by every body in Spain in his time, and is the happiest specimen I know of the genus, conceit and all.
Since I have seen thy blessed face,
Lady, my love is not amiss;
But, had I never known that grace,
How could I have deserved such bliss?
[727] The Villancicos are in the Cancionero of 1535 at ff. 120-125. See also Covarrubias, Tesoro, in verb. Villancico.
[728] Galatea, Lib. VI.
[729] The Preguntas extend from f. 126 to f. 134.
[730] The complete list of the authors in this part of the Cancionero is as follows:—Costana, Puerto Carrero, Avila, the Duke of Medina Sidonia, the Count Castro, Luis de Tovar, Don Juan Manuel, Tapia, Nicolas Nuñez, Soria, Pinar, Ayllon, Badajoz el Músico, the Count of Oliva, Cardona, Frances Carroz, Heredia, Artes, Quiros, Coronel, Escriva, Vazquez, and Ludueña. Of most of them only a few trifles are given. The “Burlas provocantes a Risa” follow, in the edition of 1514, after the poems of Ludueña, but do not appear in that of 1526, or in any subsequent edition. Most of them, however, are found in the collection referred to, entitled “Cancionero de Obras de Burlas provocantes a Risa” (Valencia, 1519, 4to). It begins with one rather long poem, and ends with another,—the last being a brutal parody of the “Trescientas” of Juan de Mena. The shorter poems are often by well-known names, such as Jorge Manrique, and Diego de San Pedro, and are not always liable to objection on the score of decency. But the general tone of the work, which is attributed to ecclesiastical hands, is as coarse as possible. A small edition of it was printed at London, in 1841, marked on its title-page “Cum Privilegio, en Madrid, por Luis Sanchez.” It has a curious and well-written Preface, and a short, but learned, Glossary. From p. 203 to the end, p. 246, are a few poems not found in the original Cancionero de Burlas; one by Garci Sanchez de Badajoz, one by Rodrigo de Reynosa, etc.
[731] This part of the Cancionero of 1535, which is of very little value, fills ff. 134-191. The whole volume contains about 49,000 verses. The Antwerp editions of 1557 and 1573 are larger, and contain about 58,000; but the last part of each is the worst part. One of the pieces near the end is a ballad on the renunciation of empire made by Charles V. at Brussels, in October, 1555; the most recent date, so far as I have observed, that can be assigned to any poem in any of the collections.
[732] There is a short poem by the Constable in the Commentary of Fernan Nuñez to the 265th Copla of Juan de Mena; and in the fine old Chronicle of the Constable’s life, we are told of him, (Título LXVIII.,) “Fue muy inventivo e mucho dado a fallar invenciones y sacar entremeses, o en justas o en guerra; en las quales invenciones muy agudamente significaba lo que queria.” He is also the author of an unpublished prose work, dated 1446, “On Virtuous and Famous Women,” to which Juan de Mena wrote a Preface; the Constable, at that time, being at the height of his power. It is not, as its title might seem to indicate, translated from a work by Boccaccio, with nearly the same name; but an original production of the great Castilian minister of state. Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., Tom. VI. p. 464, note.
[733] Obras Sueltas, Madrid, 1777, 4to, Tom. XI. p. 358.
[734] The bitterness of this unchristian and barbarous hatred of the Moors, that constituted not a little of the foundation on which rested the intolerance that afterwards did so much to break down the intellectual independence of the Spanish people, can hardly be credited at the present day, when stated in general terms. An instance of its operation, must, therefore, be given to illustrate its intensity. When the Spaniards made one of those forays into the territories of the Moors that were so common for centuries, the Christian knights, on their return, often brought, dangling at their saddle-bows, the heads of the Moors they had slain, and threw them to the boys in the streets of the villages, to exasperate their young hatred against the enemies of their faith;—a practice which, we are told on good authority, was continued as late as the war of the Alpuxarras, under Don John of Austria, in the reign of Philip II. (Clemencin, in Memorias de la Acad. de Hist., Tom. VI. p. 390.) But any body who will read the “Historia de la Rebelion y Castigo de los Moriscos del Reyno de Granada,” by Luis del Marmol Carvajal, (Málaga, 1600, fol.,) will see how complacently an eyewitness, not so much disposed as most of his countrymen to look with hatred on the Moors, regarded cruelties which it is not possible now to read without shuddering. See his account of the murder, by order of the chivalrous Don John of Austria, (f. 192,) of four hundred women and children, his captives at Galera;—“muchos en su presencia,” says the historian, who was there. Similar remarks might be made about the second volume of Hita’s “Guerras de Granada,” which will be noticed hereafter. Indeed, it is only by reading such books that it is possible to learn how much the Spanish character was impaired and degraded by this hatred, inculcated, during the nine centuries that elapsed between the age of Roderic the Goth and that of Philip III., not only as a part of the loyalty of which all Spaniards were so proud, but as a religious duty of every Christian in the kingdom.
[735] Bernaldez, Chrónica, c. 131, MS. Navarrete, Coleccion de Viages, Tom. I. p. 72; Tom. II. p. 282.
[736] Prescott’s Ferdinand and Isabella, Part I. c. 7.
[737] Mariana, Hist., Lib. XXIV. c. 17, ed. 1780, Tom. II. p. 527. We are shocked and astonished, as we read this chapter;—so devout a gratitude does it express for the Inquisition as a national blessing. See also Llorente, Hist. de l’Inquisition, Tom. I. p. 160.
[738] The eloquent Father Lacordaire, in the sixth chapter of his “Mémoire pour le Rétablissement de l’Ordre des Frères Prêcheurs,” (Paris, 1839, 8vo,) endeavours to prove that the Dominicans were not in anyway responsible for the establishment of the Inquisition in Spain. In this attempt I think he fails; but I think he is successful when he elsewhere maintains that the Inquisition, from an early period, was intimately connected with the political government in Spain, and always dependent on the state for a large part of its power.
[739] See the learned and acute “Histoire des Maures Mudejares et des Morisques, ou des Arabes d’Espagne sous la Domination des Chrétiens,” par le Comte Albert de Circourt, (3 tom. 8vo, Paris, 1846,) Tom. II., passim.
[740] It is impossible to speak of the Inquisition as I have spoken in this chapter, without feeling desirous to know something concerning Antonio Llorente, who has done more than all other persons to expose its true history and character. The important facts in his life are few. He was born at Calahorra in Aragon in 1756, and entered the Church early, but devoted himself to the study of canon law and of elegant literature. In 1789, he was made principal secretary to the Inquisition, and became much interested in its affairs; but was dismissed from his place and exiled to his parish in 1791, because he was suspected of an inclination towards the French philosophy of the period. In 1793, a more enlightened General Inquisitor than the one who had persecuted him drew Llorente again into the councils of the Holy Office, and, with the assistance of Jovellanos and other leading statesmen, he endeavoured to introduce such changes into the tribunal itself as should obtain publicity for its proceedings. But this, too, failed, and Llorente was disgraced anew. In 1805, however, he was recalled to Madrid; and in 1809, when the fortunes of Joseph Bonaparte made him the nominal king of Spain, he gave Llorente charge of every thing relating to the archives and the affairs of the Inquisition. Llorente used well the means thus put into his hands; and having been compelled to follow the government of Joseph to Paris, after its overthrow in Spain, he published there, from the vast and rich materials he had collected during the period when he had entire control of the secret records of the Inquisition, an ample history of its conduct and crimes;—a work which, though neither well arranged nor philosophically written, is yet the great store-house from which are to be drawn more well-authenticated facts relating to the subject it discusses than can be found in all other sources put together. But neither in Paris, where he lived in poverty, was Llorente suffered to live in peace. In 1823, he was required by the French government to leave France, and being obliged to make his journey during a rigorous season, when he was already much broken by age and its infirmities, he died from fatigue and exhaustion, on the 3d of February, a few days after his arrival at Madrid. His “Histoire de l’Inquisition” (4 tom., 8vo, Paris, 1817-1818) is his great work; but we should add to it his “Noticia Biográfica,” (Paris, 1818, 12mo,) which is curious and interesting, not only as an autobiography, but for further notices respecting the spirit of the Inquisition.
[741] Traces of this feeling are found abundantly in Spanish literature, for above a century; but nowhere, perhaps, with more simplicity and good faith than in a sonnet of Hernando de Acuña,—a soldier and a poet greatly favored by Charles V.—in which he announces to the world, for its “great consolation,” as he says, “promised by Heaven,”—
Un Monarca, un Imperio, y una Espada.
Poesías, Madrid, 1804, 12mo, p. 214.
Christóval de Mesa, however, may be considered more simple-hearted yet; for, fifty years afterwards, he announces this catholic and universal empire as absolutely completed by Philip III. Restauracion de España, Madrid, 1607, 12mo, Canto I. st. 7.