A very accurate idea of the general spirit of elegant literature in Spain, during the age of Cervantes and Lope de Vega, will be obtained, if, to an examination of the works of those eminent men and the two Argensolas, be added a recollection of the labours of their immediate predecessors; for the other Spanish poets of this period followed in the beaten path as far as they were able to go, and if any one ventured on a new course he only wandered into insipidity. These authors, though deficient in originality, are not without merit; but so great is their number, that it would be impossible to find room for even a very brief notice of all their works in a general history of literature. There was at this time a sort of poetical ferment in Spain, which can only be compared with that which prevailed in Italy during the sixteenth century. The blending of the Italian style with the old Spanish, had excited a new enthusiasm throughout the whole nation; and in proportion as the Spaniards were excluded from philosophic thinking, their passion for works of fancy was augmented. Under these circumstances eloquence could only follow in the train of poetry.410
Success in epic poetry was still denied to the Spanish muse. The confounding of epic poetry with relations of actual events embellished with poetic language, seems to have perverted the talent for true epopee. The Spanish poets who attempted this style, studied after the deceitful model of Lucan, and, according to an old critical phrase, endeavoured to be more Lucanists than Lucan himself. The imagination which possessed unbounded dominion over the stage, seems to have obtained in narrative poetry only the scanty privilege of inventing a few ornaments.
Among the unsuccessful attempts at epopee, particular distinction is due to the Araucana of the heroic and amiable Alonzo de Ercilla y Zuñiga, a poem which has the accidental advantage of being better known on this side of the Pyrenees than many other Spanish works of far superior merit. Ercilla has recorded the most remarkable events of his own biography in the Araucana, and the remainder of the poem also reflects an interest on the author. He was born at Madrid in 1540, or according to some in 1533, and became page to the prince of Asturias, Don Philip, with whom he travelled to Italy, the Netherlands, and England. At the age of twenty-two, he embarked as an officer for America, along with a newly appointed viceroy of Peru. He distinguished himself in the war against the Araucans, the bravest of the South American tribes. In the midst of his exploits, he conceived with a youthful ambition the plan of writing a narrative of the conquest of Arauco in an epic form, but with the strictest regard to historical truth. He executed his project in spite of the dangers which surrounded him, and the fatigues he had to undergo. In a wilderness inhabited by savages, in the midst of enemies, and under no other cover than that of heaven, he composed at night the verses which were to be the memorials of the events of the day. In prosecution of his purpose, he was obliged to use scraps of waste paper, which often could not contain more than six lines, or to make pieces of leather supply the total want of paper. In this way he completed the first part of his poem, consisting of fifteen cantos. Before he was thirty years of age he returned to Spain, full of hope, both as a soldier and a poet; but the gloomy Philip, to whom he enthusiastically dedicated the Araucana, took little notice of him, and less of his work. Ercilla deeply felt this neglect; but nothing could damp his romantic attachment to his cold-hearted sovereign, whom he still persisted in celebrating in the sequel of his poem. He received no mark of favour except from the Emperor Maximilian II. who appointed him one of his chamberlains. Dissatisfied with his fate, Ercilla travelled from place to place; but his journies did not prevent him from proceeding with his poem until he completed it by the addition of a third part. When he died is not known, but it was after he had attained his fiftieth year.
The Araucana, so called from the country Arauco, is really no poem. It is, however, impossible to read the work without becoming attached to the author, and being delighted by his talent for lively description, and for painting situations, his possession of which no just critic can call in question. But notwithstanding that talent, Ercilla is merely a versifying historian, capable of clothing his subject in a poetic garb, but not of elevating it to the sphere of true poetry. His diction is natural and correct; and to this the Araucana is in a great measure indebted for its celebrity. Its descriptive beauties, and some scenes in the style of romantic love, certainly make the composition approximate to poetry; but the heroic spirit which pervades the whole work, is by no means a poetic spirit. The principal events follow each other in chronological order. The combats are described in succession, as they actually arose, without any regard to poetic interest. Ercilla, indeed, prided himself on this historical precision, and he challenged any of his countrymen who were acquainted with the war in Arauco, to detect a single inaccuracy in his narrative. The historical succession of events imparts, however, a sort of epic unity to the work. The Spaniards in Arauco are surrounded by dangers, which gradually augment until they reach a crisis; when a reinforcement arrives from Peru, and the Spaniards experience a favourable change of fortune. The capture of Caupolican, the Araucan commander, who is put to death in a way repugnant to humanity, closes the narrative, though it does not terminate the war; but the barbarous and unjust execution of this brave chief being decreed by a Spanish council of war, is not censured by Ercilla. From the manner in which the poem concludes, it must be regarded as incomplete, considered as an historical narrative. Even the moral interest of the events operates in a way contrary to the intention of the author; for the feelings of the unprejudiced reader are, from the commencement excited in favour of the brave savages, who half-naked, and destitute of fire arms, contend for their natural freedom against enemies so superior in the art of war. The style of historical truth in which the principal events are narrated, forms a disagreeable contrast with the fiction in the details, which is intended to diffuse a poetic character over the whole work; for Ercilla at length found it necessary to depart from his plan in order to escape from the monotony into which he had fallen. In the first fifteen cantos the poetic colouring is merely confined to the descriptions; but in the two following parts,411 the author has interwoven a number of fabulous accessaries. He has introduced, for example, a poetic account of the magician Fiton’s wonderful skill and garden of paradise,412 and also the story of the fair savage Glaura, who recounts the incidents of her life in the style of a Spanish romance.413 Ercilla likewise relates the death of Dido after Virgil, and in honour of his king he gives a detailed account of the battle of Lepanto. In addition to the descriptions, some of the speeches, particularly that delivered by the Cacique Colocolo in the second canto,414 may be referred to as the best parts of this unpoetic poem.
Meanwhile the passion for epic poetry, which took possession of so many Spanish writers in the age of Cervantes and Lope de Vega, gave birth to a torrent of heroic poems. To the Caroliads, which have already been noticed, there succeeded La Restauracion de España, (the Restoration of Spain), by Christoval de Mesa; Las Navas de Tolosa, (the Plains of Toulouse), by the same author; La Numantina, by Francisco de Mesquera; La Invencion de la Cruz, (the Invention of the Cross), by Lopez Zarate; Maltea, by Hyppolyto Sanz; El Leon de España, (the Spanish Lion), by Pedro de Vezilla; Saguntina, by Lorenzo de Zamora; Mexicana, by Gabriel Laso de Vega; Austriada, by Rufo Guttieraz; &c. None but men who make this branch of literature their particular study, now think of perusing these and similar patriotic effusions, which were at the period of their publication regarded as epic poems,415 but which only serve to prove, with the greater certainty, that Spain is incapable of producing a Homer. A genuine subject for epopee was scarcely to be found in the national history of Spain, even during the ages of chivalry; and modern history was not then more susceptible than now of receiving a truly epic form.
Lyric and bucolic poetry and also elegant satire, after the two Argensolas had given the tone to that species of composition, continued to be cultivated by various pupils of the classic school of the sixteenth century. This school which was then on the decline in Italy, still maintained its ground in Spain, and preserved its reputation in spite of the opposition made by the different parties who contended for their respective styles, particularly by that of Lope de Vega, and by one of a still more dangerous kind, which will soon be more distinctly noticed. The disciples of this classic school, together with those writers who, since the time of Boscan and Garcilaso de la Vega, had formed their style on the model of the ancients and the most esteemed poets of Italy, may be called the Spanish Cinquecentisti, in a favourable sense of the term, though some of them wrote in the seventeenth century. The most distinguished among them really flourished in the sixteenth century; and the rest, whose number is incalculable, possessed, at least, the merit of endeavouring, like the Italian Cinquecentisti, to express sensible ideas in correct language.
To this classic school belongs Vicente Espinel, an ecclesiastic of the province of Granada. He was likewise celebrated as a musician, and he perfected the Spanish guitar by the addition of the fifth string. He died in poverty, in the ninetieth year of his age, at Madrid in 1634. His canciones, idyls, and elegies, though destitute of originality, are distinguished by a spirited and inartificial character, and they abound in beautiful images and descriptions. Espinel’s poetic style is extremely melodious. In his idyls he has very successfully imitated the pleasing syllabic measure which Gil Polo introduced into Spanish literature under the name of Rimas Provenzales;416 and he was one of those writers who most contributed to bestow a metrical polish on the redondilla stanzas of ten lines, (decimas). He translated Horace’s Art of Poetry, in iambic blank verse, and several of Horace’s Odes after the manner of Luis de Leon. Some of this author’s prose works will hereafter be noticed.417
Christoval de Mesa, an ecclesiastic of Estremadura, was contemporary with Tarquato Tasso, with whom he maintained the most friendly intercourse. He made, however, very little improvement in epic art through his intimacy with that celebrated man. Of three compositions, which Christoval de Mesa intended for epic poems, not one has been preserved from oblivion. His tragedy of Pompey is likewise forgotten. He was nevertheless a good translator; and his translations of the Æneid and the Iliad are esteemed even at the present day. He also published a Spanish version of Virgil’s Georgics.
Juan de Morales obtained a similar reputation through his translation of Horace’s Odes and Virgil’s Georgics. The particulars of his life are not known. He wrote some good sonnets.418 This writer must not be confounded with his namesake, Ambrosio de Morales, the historian.
Agustin de Texada, or Tejada, who was born in the year 1635, is distinguished as a writer of spiritual odes and canciones. His poems in this class vie with those of the younger Argensola in poetic dignity of composition and genuine lyric diction.419 He has, however, committed the error of introducing mythological images in his christian poetry. But in this respect he merely conformed with the bad taste of his age, which in Spain and Portugal favoured the most absurd misapplication of the Greek mythology; for, to humour the prejudices of the church, it was necessary that the heathen deities should appear only as allegorical characters in catholic poetry.
Andres Rey de Artieda, a brave Arragonian officer, was a very learned scholar and a particular friend of the Argensolas. Among other works, he wrote poetic epistles which are full of good sense and natural feeling.420 His sonnets are remarkable for their novel and poignant style.421
Gregorio Morillo imitated Juvenal in his didactic satires, and vented his spleen in well-turned verses.422
Luis Barahona de Soto is, in preference to many of his contemporaries, entitled to an honourable place among Spanish poets. He was born in the province of Granada, and was a physician by profession. His eclogues resemble those of Garcilaso de la Vega; and his canciones abound in romantic grace.423 His satires, which were lately republished, have the spirit of Juvenal, but want the delicacy of Horace; they are, however, written in a clear and energetic style. This writer moreover gained celebrity by a continuation of the Orlando Furioso, which was highly esteemed by Cervantes, and which is entitled, Las Lagrimas de Angelica, (the Tears of Angelica).424
Pedro Soto de Rojas, who was a particular favourite of Lope de Vega, endeavoured to introduce the academic systems of Italy, which had never been successfully imitated in Spain. A literary society established at Madrid, after the Italian fashion, received the ludicrous title of Academia Selvaje, (Academy of Savages;) and in this society Soto de Rojas was distinguished by the surname of l’Ardiente. His eclogues have the usual character of Spanish poems of that class, clothed in elegant and harmonious language.425
Luis Martin, or Martinez de la Plaza, an ecclesiastic of Granada, a province fertile in literary talent, was particularly celebrated for the grace of his madrigals, and other small poems of a similar kind.426
Balthazar del Alcazar, who appears to have been a native of Andalusia, sought to distinguish himself as a writer of epigrammatic madrigals. In his comic madrigals,427 he was, however, less successful than in those of gallantry.428 He also appears to have been one of the first Spanish poets who wrote odes in sapphic feet, in so far as the Spanish language would permit the employment of that measure.429
Gonzalo de Argote y Molina, one of those brave men, who, in the reign of Philip II. combated with enthusiasm for the honour of their country and their king, but whose valour remained unrequited, was more distinguished as an historian than as a poet. To his literary patriotism the Spaniards were indebted for the publication of the Infante Don Manuel’s Conde Lucanor.430 His poems are, however, worthy of honourable notice. An ardent love of country is the soul of his canciones and other lyric compositions.431
Francisco de Figueroa spent a portion of his life in Italy, in the twofold capacity of an officer and a statesman. During his residence among the Italians, he enjoyed a degree of public esteem which was extended to few of his countrymen. He wrote poems in Italian as well as in Spanish. Among his friends and admirers he was called the divine, and he was ranked among the most eminent Petrarchists of his age. His amatory sonnets are written in a pleasing and natural style, and abound in the softest touches of romantic melancholy.432 The admirers of Francisco de Figueroa likewise conferred on him the surname of the Spanish Pindar; but that was a mere whim.433
Christoval Suarez de Figueroa, who was an imitator of Montemayor, wrote a pastoral romance, entitled Amarillis, which was very generally read at the time of its publication. He also made a translation of Guarini’s Pastor Fido, and cultivated with some degree of success the Italian lyric forms of pastoral romance. Some of the poems of the latter class contained in the Romancero General, appear to be written by this author. His Endechas, or Elegiac Songs in the popular style, though not particularly rich in ideas, are nevertheless pleasing with respect to language and versification.434
Another poet of this name, Bartholomè Cayrasco de Figueroa, is the author of a long series of spiritual canciones and tales called cantos, which were much esteemed on account of the edification attributed to their contents. In these poems he explains the mysticism of the christian religion, according to the catholic dogmas and the scholastic ideas of christian virtue, in a manner more pedantic than poetic; but yet in pure and elegant language. He was likewise one of the Spanish imitators of the Italian verse with dactyllic terminations, called versos esdrujolos, from the Italian versi sdruccioli.435
Juan de Arguijo, a native of Seville, seems to have enjoyed high reputation among the poets of his time. Lope de Vega formally dedicated several of his works to him. Some well written sonnets and other small poems are the only productions of this author now extant.436
Pedro Espinosa, an ecclesiastic who possessed some poetic talent, and who wrote on various subjects, compiled a lyric anthology of the works of the above and other Spanish poets, who adhered more or less rigidly to the principles of the old school, but whose fancy sometimes roamed unrestrained with Lope de Vega, or sometimes degenerated into affectation with Gongora.437
It is impossible to draw a rigid line of separation between the disciples of the classic school, and the partizans of lyric irregularity, who indulged in no less freedom than Lope de Vega, while at the same time they endeavoured to exceed him in forced conceits. Even the disciples of the classic school are not totally exempt from extravagant ideas and unnatural metaphors; and they occasionally pour forth a torrent of words, which though sometimes big with brilliant ideas, more frequently wastes itself in mere froth and foam. It cannot be doubted that the Italian school of the Marinists exercised an influence on these Spanish poets. But Marino, being a Neapolitan by birth, was a Spanish subject, and educated among Spaniards. It is therefore more natural to regard his style as originally Spanish, than to trace to Italy the source of those aberrations of fancy, which, in the age of Cervantes and Lope de Vega, again found admirers in Spain. Marino’s was the old Spanish national style, with all its faults, divested of its ancient energy and purity, polished after a new fashion, stripped of its simplicity, tortured into the most absurd affectation of refinement, and that affectation displayed in a boundless prolixity.
One of the most zealous adherents of this party was Manuel Faria y Sousa, a Portuguese by birth. Some cause of discontent had induced him to quit his native country and to fix his residence in Spain; and in composing both poetry and prose, he in general preferred the Castilian to his vernacular tongue.438 It can scarcely be supposed that he introduced this perverted taste from Portugal; though his Portuguese poems exhibit no less affectation of style than those which he composed in Castilian, and in which a judicious direction of the fancy is seldom observable. His ideas are, for the most part, intolerably fantastic. One of his Castilian songs, for example, is composed in honour of his mistress’s eyes, “in whose beauty, (he says) love has inscribed the poet’s fate, and which are as large as his pain, and as black as his destiny, &c.”439 He displays similar extravagance in most of his Castilian sonnets: in one, for instance, he relates “how ten lucid arrows of chrystal, were darted at him from the eyes of his Albania, which produced a rubious effect on his pain, though the cause was chrystaline,” &c.440 In this absurd style he composed hundreds of sonnets. Faria y Sousa, however, wrote several good works on history and statistics;441 and it must be recollected that in his poetry he merely followed the party which he most admired, and which indeed had its precursors in Portugal as well as in Spain.
This party which soon became powerful, imitated the negligence of Lope de Vega. But Lope de Vega was not a pedant; and when he failed in producing real beauties, he did not coin false ones. His pretended imitators, however, used the alloy of pedantry most unsparingly, and thereby carried the affectation of ingenious thoughts, in the style of the Italian Marinists, to an incredible height.
Luis de Gongora de Argote was the founder and the idol of the fantastical sect, which at this period led the fashion in literature, and attempted to create a new epoch in Spanish poetry by dint of exquisite cultivation and refinement. Gongora was a man of shrewd and powerful mind; but his natural faculties were perverted by a systematic prosecution of absurd critical reveries. Through life he had to maintain a constant struggle with the frowns of fortune. He was born in Cordova, in the year 1561; and after completing his studies in his native city found himself without any provision for the future. He took holy orders, and after eleven years of solicitation at the court of Madrid, obtained a scanty benefice. The dissatisfied turn of mind, occasioned by his adverse fortune, contributed to develope that caustic wit, for which he was particularly distinguished. He wrote satirical sonnets, which for bitterness of spirit can scarcely be exceeded;442 and he was still more successful in romances and songs in the burlesque satirical style. Works of this kind, did not, it is true, possess the merit of novelty in Spanish literature; but Gongora’s satirical poems are vastly superior to those of Castillejo. It would be scarcely possible to preserve, in a translation, the caustic spirit of Gongora’s romances and songs. To give full effect to these compositions, the genuine national spirit of the serious romances and canciones must never be lost sight of. In Gongora’s satirical works the language and versification are correct and elegant, and the piquant simplicity of the whole style would never lead to the supposition that the ambition of marking an epoch in literature could have betrayed the author into the most intolerable affectation.443 He was less successful in seizing the cordial tone of the old narrative romances. But his canciones in the ancient Spanish style are in general masterly compositions, full of true natural and poetic feeling.444
It was doubtless in one of his moments of ill-humour that Gongora conceived the idea of creating for serious poetry a peculiar phraseology, which he called the estilo culto, meaning thereby the highly cultivated or polished style. In fulfilment of this object, he formed for himself, with the most laborious assiduity, a style as uncommon as affected, and opposed to all the ordinary rules of the Spanish language, either in prose or verse. He particularly endeavoured to introduce into his native tongue the intricate constructions of the greek and latin, though such an arrangement of words had never before been attempted in Spanish composition. He consequently found it necessary to invent a particular system of punctuation, in order to render the sense of his verses intelligible. Not satisfied with this patchwork kind of phraseology he affected to attach an extraordinary depth of meaning to each word, and to diffuse an air of superior dignity over his whole style. In Gongora’s poetry the most common words received a totally new signification; and in order to impart perfection to his estilo culto, he summoned all his mythological learning to his aid. Such was Gongora’s New Art. In this style he wrote his Soledades, his Polyphemus, and several other works. Even the choice of the title Soledades, (Solitudes), was an instance of Gongora’s affectation; for he did not intend to express by that term the signification attached to a similar Portuguese word, (Saudade), which is the title for a work relating to the thoughts and aspirations of a recluse. Gongora wished by his fantastic title to convey an idea of solitary forests, because he had divided his poem into sylvas, (forests), according to a particular meaning which the word bears in latin. This work, like all Gongora’s productions in the same style, is merely an insipid fiction, full of pompous mythological images, described in a strain of the most fantastic bombast.445 The Duke of Bejar, to whom the work is inscribed, must, if he only read the dedicatory lines, have imagined himself transported to some foreign region, in which the Spanish language was tortured without mercy.446 Gongora appears to have been peculiarly anxious to develope the spirit of his New Art, both at the commencement and the close of his whimsical compositions.447
Gongora’s innovations did not, however, tend to better his fortune; for when he died in 1627, he held merely the post of titular chaplain to the king. But his works were universally read in Spain; and in proportion as men of sound judgment emphatically protested against the absurd innovations of the Gongorists, the more vehemently did these assert their pretensions.448 Thus Gongora in some measure attained his object. His arduous exertions to establish his style did not, it is true, promote him to a lucrative post; but they were rewarded with the unlimited admiration of a numerous party, composed of men of half-formed taste, who found it easy in the crisis of the conflict between the Spanish national style and the Italian, to raise themselves into importance. Proud of their half cultivation, they regarded every writer who did not admire and imitate the style of their master, as a man of limited talent, incapable of appreciating the beauties of their estilo culto.449 But none of Gongora’s partizans possessed the talent of their leader, and their affectation became on that account still more insupportable. They soon separated into two similar yet distinct schools, one of which represented the pedantry of its founder, while the other, in order to render the art of versifying the easier, even dispensed with that precision of style which Gongora, in his wildest flights, still sought to preserve. The disciples of the first school were proud to be the commentators of their master; and in their voluminous illustrations of Gongora’s unintelligible works, they did not neglect to pour forth all the stores of their erudition.450 These were called the Cultoristos, a name which was applied to them in derision. The second school of the Gongorists more nearly resembled that of the Marinists; and its disciples were distinguished by the name of Conceptistos, in imitation of the Italian term Concettisti, which was applied to the followers of Marino. The Conceptistos revelled in the wildest regions of fancy, without the least regard to propriety or precision, and were only desirous of expressing preposterous and extravagant ideas (concetti) in the unnatural language of Gongora. Some individuals of this party were, however, inclined to imitate the careless style of Lope de Vega.
Alonzo de Ladesma, who died a few years before Gongora, obtained admirers for his poems, chiefly spiritual, which he wrote in the obscure phraseology of the estilo culto.451 For example, in paraphrazing the mysteries of the catholic faith in lyric romances, he thus speaks of the birth of the Saviour:—“The star of the east rose at the time ordained by God, so that the enemy of day might lose the prey he had seized, and with it the hope of his false pretensions, as God assumed human flesh in order that man might enjoy him,” &c.452 To men imbued with superstition, and denied all reasoning in matters of faith, ravings of this kind were well calculated to turn their heads, and involve them in a vortex of romantic mysticism.
Felix de Arteaga was likewise a zealous cultivator of this distorted style, both in sacred and profane poetry. In 1618, he held the post of court chaplain at Madrid, and he lived until the year 1633. The chief portion of his songs, romances, and sonnets, are of the pastoral kind. He extols “the miracles of the fair Amarillis, that angel of the superior class, to whom truth and passion have given the name of Phœnix. She once espied before her door a peasant, who, though not worthy to adore her, was yet worthy to languish for her sake. This happened one evening, which was a morning, since Aurora smiled, and shewed white pearls between rows of glowing carmine. The angel was amused by burning those she had illumined, and this beautiful angel fell from the heaven of her ownself,” &c.453 This author also wrote, after the manner of Lope de Vega, a comedy, called Gridonia, which he styles a royal invention, (invencion real), because potentates, princes, and princesses are brought together from the most distant parts of the earth, and introduced with vast scenic pomp.454
Some of the adherents of this party, who were distinguished for natural genius and ability, will be hereafter noticed. We must not, however, neglect to mention that the estilo culto likewise gained a footing in Spanish America; and that various works in that style by Alonzo de Castillo Solorzano, were very neatly printed at Mexico in the year 1625.455
Lope de Vega had now become the model of the Spanish dramatic poets, who soon appeared as numerous, and laboured as assiduously as if they had been bound to supply all the theatres in the universe with new pieces. But most of these dramatists, who may altogether be considered as forming one great school, were contemporary with Lope de Vega only during their younger years. The elegant Calderon, who was born in the year 1600, may also have influenced the exercise of their talents. In the history of the Spanish theatre, it will therefore be proper to range together those dramatists on whom it is probable the example of Calderon may have operated.456 This, however, is the proper place for noticing two contemporaries of Lope de Vega.
The first of these writers, whose talents entitle them to an honourable rank in literature, is Christoval de Virues, a native of Valencia. He fought in the battle of Lepanto, and is usually distinguished by his military title of captain. The period of his death is not known. Both Cervantes and Lope de Vega mention him in terms of commendation. Virues was not the pupil of Lope. Though older, as it would appear, than that distinguished man, he was, like him, inspired with enthusiasm for dramatic poetry; and they entered upon the same career at nearly the same time. Virues did not adhere more attentively than Lope to the strict rules of the ancient drama. But he wanted the fertile imagination of his rival, and he conceived it necessary that the modern drama should approximate in a slight degree to the antique, at least in some of its forms. He was one of the Spanish dramatists by whom the last attempts were made to separate tragedy from comedy; and his efforts in this way are deserving of more praise than has hitherto been conceded to them. Virues was a poet born for tragic art; but his genius wanted cultivation. Pure poetic spirit, and a bold and energetic style, are the distinguishing features of all his works. But, like Lope de Vega, he was every inch a Spaniard. He obeyed the influence of the national taste, and he could not restrain his own genius within the bounds which he had himself prescribed. Among his five tragedies are some which might more properly be termed comedies, according to the Spanish acceptation of the term.457 It is obvious that Virues endeavoured to create a sphere of his own, and that in proportion as he wrote he made advances in his art. His Semiramis, the first tragedy he wrote, which is chiefly in octaves, interspersed here and there with redondillas, is crude both in conception and execution; but the language even of this imperfect drama, makes energetic approaches to that genuine expression of tragic pathos, which Cervantes and the elder Argensola in some measure attained.458 His tragedy, entitled La Cruel Casandra, which is richer in dramatic spirit, and more finished and systematic in its execution, might in the hands of a writer of genius be easily rendered a tragic master-piece. Virues selected from the history of the kingdom of Leon, the subject of this tragedy, in which he intended to unite the ancient and modern styles.459 That a drama of intrigue, like the Casandra, should not have obtained greater popularity in Spain would be inexplicable, were it not for the dislike which the Spanish public manifested towards all dramas in which the tragic character was exhibited without the intervention of comic scenes. Cultivated taste will, however, perceive many faults in this tragedy. The uninterrupted delirium of passion, which prevails from the beginning to the end of the piece, renders the whole more astounding than impressive. The stormy movement of the action has, notwithstanding, in most of the scenes, a very captivating effect; and that passionate vehemence, in the painting of which Virues was eminently successful, is, in this drama, characteristically Spanish. The horrible deaths with which the piece closes, and which, according to the nature of the catastrophe were by no means necessary, are likewise in unison with the spirit of a Spanish national tragedy. The spring of action is the wicked spirit of a revengeful woman whom jealousy betrays into a series of the most treacherous intrigues. The dialogue is occasionally somewhat declamatory; but in its best parts it is energetic and unconstrained.460 Of all the dramas of Virues, his Marcella in which princes, princesses, robbers, peasants, and servants, are jumbled together in irregular confusion, was doubtless most in unison with the Spanish taste.
The other Spanish dramatist who remains to be noticed among the poetic writers of the age of Lope de Vega, is Juan Perez de Montalvan, whom Lope himself regarded as his first pupil, and who obtained, probably through the interest of his patron, the post of notary to the inquisition. He was a young man of distinguished talent, and even in his seventeenth year he wrote plays in the style of Lope de Vega. He first entered the lists in competition with his master, after whose death he pursued his literary occupations with such assiduity, that when he died in 1639, though aged only thirty-five, the number of his comedies and autos amounted to nearly one hundred. He was also the author of several novels, which will be particularly noticed in another place. He put together in a single volume, some of his dramas and novels, and his moral reflections, full of formal erudition; and this singular compilation was published under the no less singular title of Book for All.461 His comedies are neither more finished nor more systematic than those of his master, but they prove how easily a Spanish writer of imagination might, in that age, be roused to venture into competition with the inexhaustible Lope de Vega, and also how far a poet of talent, with a certain degree of practice, was capable of succeeding in dramatic intrigue. Montalvan’s comedies possess, however, a more particular interest, inasmuch as they exhibit traces of genius, which under other circumstances would have constituted a painter of dramatic character. In two of his historical comedies, he has introduced Henry IV. of France, and Philip II. of Spain. A kind of moral dignity, almost approaching to sanctity, is falsely attributed to the latter; but the prominent features of his character are truly seized and strikingly delineated.462 The amiable Henry IV. is, however, pourtrayed to the life.463 In his Autos Sacramentales, Montalvan even ventured to differ from Lope de Vega, in order to give to these dramas the popular character which Lope had sacrificed in his allegorical moralities. He composed an auto on the romantic conversion of Skanderbeg, in which drums, trumpets, clarionets, explosions of squibs and rockets, and all the pomp of spectacle is introduced. But the most extravagant creation of Montalvan’s fancy, is his auto of Polyphemus, in which the cyclops of that name appears as the allegorical representative of judaism; and the rest of the cyclops, together with the nymph Galathæa, and other mythological beings, are introduced for the allegorical personation of faith and infidelity, according to christian notions. To these characters are added, Appetite as a peasant, Joy as a lady, and finally the Infant Christ. Drum and trumpet accompaniments are not forgotten in this auto. The cyclops too perform on the guitar; and an island sinks amidst a tremendous explosion of fire works.464
Notwithstanding that poetry, sometimes under heterogeneous, sometimes under harmonizing forms, was, next to religion, the object which principally interested the Spanish public in the age of Cervantes and Lope de Vega, yet elegant prose was not consigned to such obscurity as to engage only the attention of the learned. The old Spanish soundness of understanding which particularly displayed itself in Cervantes and the two Argensolas, still, in some measure maintained its influence. But upon the whole that rhetorical cultivation which had been so early developed in Spain was obviously on the decline.
Novels and romances, either decidedly bad or very indifferent, were as widely circulated as rapidly produced, and so great was their number that they counteracted the good effects which the master-piece of Cervantes must necessarily have produced under more favourable circumstances. If few new romances of chivalry were now written, the old ones were read with the greater avidity. After the Galatea of Cervantes, any very successful production in pastoral romance was scarcely to be expected. Romances, depicting the manners of modern society, were, however, proportionally the more numerous. Among the best of the serious, but yet spirited productions of this class, is the Life of Marcos de Obregon;465 by the poet and musician Vicente Espinel.466 The object of the author was, in his old age, to transmit useful instruction to the rising generation in the form of a novel. The Spanish title in which the hero of the story is styled an Escudero, would seem to indicate a romance of chivalry, but the whole character of the work is modern. The Escudero is a sort of gentleman or squire by courtesy, and by no means a shield-bearer. The book is intended as a moral warning for young men without fortune, who hope to get honourably through the world by attaching themselves to persons of distinction. The story, though entertaining, presents nothing particularly attractive; the narration is rather prolix, but still natural; and the diction plainly denotes the classic pupil of the sixteenth century, though Espinel, as he states in his preface, consigned his romance to the correction of Lope de Vega, whom he styles the “divine genius,” after having himself revised the verses which Lope composed in his youth. The insipid jokes which occur in Marcos de Obregon, for example those in derision of the Portuguese and their language, must be considered as belonging to the natural local colouring of the work.
Among the romances of knavery, (del gusto picaresco), the celebrated Don Guzman de Alfarache may claim a distinguished place next to Lazarillo de Tormes.467 It was published in the year 1599, and consequently before Don Quixote appeared. Like Lazarillo de Tormes it was speedily translated into Italian and French, and was subsequently published in various other languages, not excepting the latin. Mattheo Aleman, the author of Guzman de Alfarache, who had withdrawn from the court of Philip III. and lived in retirement, was not induced by the success of his comic romance, to devote himself to a second production of the same class. The knowledge of the world which he had acquired at court, as well as in the sphere of common life, is doubtless abundantly unfolded in his Guzman de Alfarache. The manners of the lower classes of Spanish society, in particular, seem to be pourtrayed with admirable accuracy. In spite of the vulgarity of the subject, and the burlesque style in which it is treated, no ordinary share of judgment is perceptible throughout the whole of this comic novel; and in his humorous language the author has preserved a certain degree of natural elegance even in describing the lowest scenes.
That the Spaniards were by no means sparing of approbation to works of this class, is obvious from the attention bestowed on the mannered continuation of Aleman’s romance, by a writer styling himself Mattheo Luzan, and still more by the favour lavished upon La Picara Justina, a silly and pedantic pendant to Guzman de Alfarache, by a writer named Ubeda. In Cervantes’s Journey to Parnassus, no literary production of the age is so categorically condemned as this Picara Justina. And yet it was oftener printed, and probably more read than even the Journey to Parnassus.
Little anecdotal stories of a sprightly character, likewise made their appearance in Spanish literature at this period. A collection of these productions, connected together by means of dialogues, was published in 1610, under the title of Pleasant Dialogues for the Carnival time, (Dialogos de Apacible Entretenimiento), by Gaspar Lucas Hidalgo.
The political romance of Argenis, was pompously arranged to suit the taste of the Spaniards of that age, by the Gongorist Pellicer de Salas.
Among the novels which possessed more of an imaginative character, the best then produced were those of Perez de Montalvan, the dramatic poet.468
The present is not the proper place to introduce a complete or copious list of all the works in the class above alluded to. Other writers have already enumerated them with sufficient accuracy.469 Unfortunately even the very best of these novels and narratives present no traces of the advancement of taste and literary cultivation.
The novels of a Spanish lady, named Doña Mariana de Caravajal y Saavedra, must not be passed over without a particular notice. Respecting this authoress, who was a native of the city of Granada, but little is said by the writers on Spanish literature. Her ten novels have been frequently reprinted, and were apparently very well received by the public.470 Doña Mariana states in her preface, that her novels are intended to afford amusement in “the lazy nights of chill winter;”471 and they may, even now, be recommended to those who stand in need of such amusement; for they are by no means devoid of fancy though they are written in a style of affected verbosity. The verses with which the tales are interspersed, exhibit no traces of poetic talent. In her preface, the authoress promises to present to the Spanish public, twelve comedies “from her ill-made pen,” as a proof of the “kindness of her intention.”472 Spain could indeed scarcely be expected to give birth to a poetess in the true sense of the term. The terrible yoke imposed on the conscience and the understanding, against which even masculine genius could only contend by boldly plunging into the wilds of romantic invention, weighed still more heavily on the female mind, which without a certain spirit of freedom can seldom range beyond the boundaries established by custom, and the routine of ordinary thinking. Writers on Spanish literature, however, mention in terms of approbation, several female writers of verses, and also women of erudition, like Aloysia Sigea, distinguished for their knowledge of languages.
At this period of Spanish eloquence, history was the only kind of composition which maintained its old precision and dignity, while of the perfect cultivation of the other branches of prose literature there remained little hope.
The General History of Spain, by the Jesuit Juan de Mariana, though not a model of historical art in the most extended sense of the term, is, in point of style, unquestionably a classic production. Mariana, who may be said to have transferred the genuine spirit of the eloquence of the sixteenth century into the seventeenth,473 was not one of the pensioned historiographers or chroniclers who have already been frequently mentioned, and who, it must be confessed, honourably discharged their duties. He obtained reputation both in France and Italy as a professor of scholastic philosophy and theology; but his love of literary retirement induced him to return to Spain. Of his own free choice he undertook to compose a new general History of Spain from the earliest period to the death of Ferdinand the catholic. His predecessors had been sufficiently numerous, and he did not find it necessary to collect the materials for his history by laborious compilations from the old authors and chroniclers of the middle ages. He was thus at liberty to prescribe to himself a more pleasing task, namely, that of judiciously combining the most interesting events, and describing them with rhetorical precision in elegant language. With the view of acquiring a prose style, formed in the spirit of the classic historians of antiquity, Mariana composed his work originally in latin,474 a method which Cardinal Bembo had adopted in writing his History of Venice. After he had completed this first labour, and dedicated the thirty books of his history in latin to Philip II. he followed the example of Bembo in translating it himself, and he in fact recomposed it in Spanish.475 This work he also dedicated to the king. Though this twofold dedication might have served to prove that the author was far from being liable to the imputation of cherishing views dangerous to the state, yet a party, with whose designs several passages of this history did not accord, found it easy under the government of the ever jealous Philip, to cast on Mariana the suspicion of favouring wicked and rebellious principles. He was formally brought before the inquisition, and it was with difficulty he escaped destruction. Had he devoted more attention to the philosophy of history, he could not so easily have repelled the charge of impartiality, to aim at which was then considered an unwarrantable assumption not to be tolerated in any Spanish writer. But it is only in his style that Mariana was impartial. To exhibit facts as they stood in their natural connection, was sufficient to give umbrage to the court and the inquisition; and solely to such an exposition was it owing, that the historian’s intentions became a subject of suspicion. Elegant composition was his grand object; and in this respect he far excels Bembo, because he is not, like him, mannered. His diction is perfectly faultless, his descriptions picturesque without poetic ornament; and his narrative style may, on the whole, be accounted a model. He has been very successful in avoiding protracted and artificially constructed sentences.476 Mariana could not, however, resist the temptation of putting speeches into the mouths of his historical characters, after the manner of the ancient historians. In fine, comparing this history with other works of a similar kind, which previously existed in Spanish literature, it will be found that, though justly entitled to a high share of esteem, it cannot be regarded as forming an epoch either in a philosophic or literary point of view.
Having described the rise and progress of the historical art in Spain, it cannot be necessary to give a minute notice of historical works, which for the most part possess only the negative merit of not being ill written. The age of Cervantes and Lope de Vega was, moreover, the period at which the historical literature of the Spaniards began to form itself into that perfect whole for which it is so peculiarly remarkable. At that time the old chronicles were committed to the press one after another: and the continuation and correction of the national history was the only literary occupation which could be pursued with any hope of success by men of talent, who felt no impulse to poetry; unless, indeed, they preferred to distinguish themselves in scholastic theology, or in writing books of pious edification, in which it was, above all things, necessary to take care to say nothing new.
It is still less necessary to enter upon a detailed examination of various works in the didactic department of Spanish literature, which are upon the whole not badly written, but not one of which exceeds in rhetorical merit the works of Perez de Oliva, Ambrosio de Morales, and other authors, who have already been mentioned. The writings of Balthasar, or Lorenzo Gracian, who endeavoured to introduce a kind of gongorism into Spanish prose, will be more fully noticed at the close of the present book.
In order to mark, by sensible gradations, the transition from the golden age of Spanish poetry and eloquence, to those sad times, when the energy of the national genius was, after a long conflict with opposing circumstances, destined to be overcome, it will be proper first to notice some poets and prose authors, who during the latter half of the period embraced by the present section, assumed a tone peculiar to themselves; and also, another set of writers who were their immediate successors. Quevedo may with propriety be placed at their head. During a part of his life he was contemporary with Cervantes, Lope de Vega, and the Argensolas, and was, moreover, an opposer of the New Art of Gongora. But both in poetry and prose he deviates so strikingly from the classic, and so obviously approaches the ornamented and artificial style, that by commencing with him the retrograde course which Spanish literature began to take even in the period of its highest cultivation, will be most distinctly perceived.
The circumstances of the life of Francisco de Quevedo Villegas,477 a man who has almost invariably been praised or censured with partiality, had a most important influence on the developement and employment of his talents. He began even in childhood to breathe the air of courts. He was born, in 1580, at Madrid, of a noble family, and was educated at the court under the care of his widowed mother who was one of the ladies of the royal household. An eager curiosity was the first indication of his active and restless mind; and the impressions which he received in his infancy, induced him to make the scholastic theology of catholicism his first study in preference to every other kind of knowledge. He was sent to the university of Alcala, where he received the degree of doctor in theology in his fifteenth year, a fact which appears almost incredible. Grown weary of theology, he directed his attention to law, philology, natural philosophy, medicine, and elegant literature; and he pursued all these studies without any regular order. It is probable that at this period he injured his sight by indefatigable reading; for in the prime of life he was incapable of distinguishing any object at the distance of three paces, without the aid of glasses. But neither this infirmity nor the crooked legs which he had received from nature, deterred him from mingling in fashionable society. His figure, which was in other respects strong and well proportioned, joined to his prepossessing countenance, contributed in no slight degree to the early developement of his self-esteem.
Quevedo returned to the court of Madrid, with a mind stored with all kinds of academic knowledge. But he soon became engaged in a dispute, fought a duel in which he wounded his antagonist, and was compelled to fly. He proceeded to Italy, where the Spanish Viceroy of Naples, Don Pedro Giron, Duke of Ossuna, interested himself for the accomplished fugitive. He procured his pardon at Madrid, and retained him in his service at Naples. Quevedo now became a statesman and a man of business. He played the most prominent part at the court of the Vice-king, executed important commissions, visited the papal court, in quality of ambassador, was rewarded with titles and pensions, and seemed to be the favourite of fortune. But he was suddenly cast down by the fall of his patron, the Duke of Ossuna. Quevedo was connected with that powerful grandee in all his transactions, and thus became involved in his fate. In 1620, in the fortieth year of his age, he was arrested and removed to his country seat, La Torre de Juan Abad, where he was, by the order of the government, confined during three years, notwithstanding his delicate state of health, which this restraint rendered daily worse. So rigidly was this kind of imprisonment enforced, that it was with great difficulty he could obtain leave to go to a neighbouring town to commit himself to the care of a physician in whom he could confide.
At length Quevedo’s papers being strictly examined, his innocence became unquestionable, and he was set at liberty. He now demanded indemnification and the payment of the arrears of his pension. Instead, however, of obtaining attention to his claims, he was threatened with a new exile, and received an order to quit the court. This sentence he found means to evade, and even court intrigue seemed at last inclined to favour him; but in the conflict between vanity and reason, Quevedo in due time proved himself a philosopher. He willingly forsook the court, retired to his estate of La Torre, and devoted himself wholly to literary pursuits. It is probable that at this period he wrote the poems which on their first appearance were published as the works of the Bachelor de la Torre, an old poet of the fifteenth century. The name of his country residence apparently suggested to Quevedo the disguise of the above title. There is also reason to suppose that at this period he wrote the greater portion of his works both in prose and verse. But these writings, which overflow with wit and satire, and display that firmness of judgment and character, which is always so unwelcome at courts, tended to keep alive the attention of those who conceived themselves to be attacked. As the crisis of his varied fate approached, Quevedo seems to have totally forgotten the intrigues of which he had been the victim. He had already passed several years in literary tranquillity, and was upwards of fifty years of age when he married. But his wife, to whom he was tenderly attached, did not live long. Quevedo’s evil star once more induced him to visit Madrid, where in 1641, he was arrested at midnight in the house of a friend with whom he resided. The charge preferred against him, was that of being a libeller, who spared neither the government nor public morals; he was thrown into a small and unwholesome prison, and treated with the most rigid severity, not even experiencing the humanity usually extended to the vilest criminals. In the meanwhile his property was sequestrated, and though not convicted of any crime, he was compelled to subsist on charity. He was again seized with a severe fit of illness. His body broke out in ulcers, in consequence of the insalubrity of his prison, but he was even then denied the aid of a surgeon. In this situation Quevedo appealed for justice to the Duke of Olivares, the all-powerful prime minister of Spain, in a letter which has become celebrated. His case was now, for the first time, strictly investigated; and it was ascertained that he had merely been supposed to be the author of a libel, which was subsequently discovered to have been written in a monastery. Quevedo once more regained his freedom, but with the loss of a considerable portion of his fortune, of which indeed he retained so scanty a remnant, that he was unable to continue long enough in Madrid to solicit the indemnification which was so justly due to him, and without which he could not subsist with respectability. A prey to sickness, and deprived of the hope of ever obtaining justice, he retired to his country seat, and there died in the year 1645.
A man who, like Quevedo, reaped the bitterest fruits from political justice, cannot be very heavily reproached for seizing in his satires every opportunity of more severely chastising and ridiculing the ministers of that justice, than any other enemies of truth and equity. But Quevedo was not a mere satirist. He may, without hesitation, be pronounced the most ingenious of all Spanish writers, next to Cervantes; and his mind was, moreover, endowed with a degree of practical judgment, which is seldom found combined with that versatility for which he was distinguished. Could Quevedo have ruled the taste and genius of his nation and his age in the same degree in which that taste and genius influenced him, his versatility, joined to his talent for composing verses with no less rapidity than Lope de Vega, might have rendered him, if not a poet of the first rank in the loftier region of art, at least a classic writer of almost unrivalled merit. But this scholar and man of the world was too early wedded to conventional forms of every kind. It may indeed be said that he was steeped in all the colours of his age. A true feeling of the independence of genius never animated him, lofty as his spirit in other respects was. His taste imbibed some portion of all the conflicting tastes which at that period existed in Spain. His style never acquired originality, and his mind was only half cultivated.
Quevedo’s writings, taken altogether in verse and in prose, resemble a massy ornament of jewellery, in which the setting of some parts is exquisitely skilful, of others extremely rude, and in which the number of false stones and of gems of inestimable value are nearly equal. His most numerous, and unquestionably his best productions, are those of the satirical and comic kind. Though Quevedo did not strike into a totally new course, yet by a union peculiar to himself of sports of fancy, with the maxims of reason and morality, he evidently enlarged the sphere of satirical and comic poetry in Spanish literature. He occasionally approached, though he never equalled, the delicacy and correctness of Cervantes. His wit is sufficiently caustic; but it is accompanied by a coarseness which would be surprising, considering his situation in life, were it not that Quevedo, as an author, sought to indemnify himself for the constraint to which, as a man of the world he was compelled to submit. For this reason, perhaps, he bestowed but little pains on the correction of his satires. His ideas are striking; and are thrown together sometimes with absolute carelessness, sometimes with refined precision; but for the most part in a distorted and mannered strain of language. This mixed character of cultivation and rudeness peculiarly characterizes his satirical and comic works in verse, in which, as he himself says, he has exhibited “truth in her smock, but not quite naked.”478 He appears as the rival of Gongora in numerous comic canciones and romances in the old national style.479 In these compositions he humorously parodied the extravagant images of the Marinists,480 and the affected singularity of the Gongorists.481 Quevedo wrote no inconsiderable number of his comic and satirical poems in the jargon of the Spanish gypsies; and it is therefore probable that they are not intelligible to many readers on this side of the Pyrenees.482 These romances and canciones, which were distinguished by the name of Xacaras, were rendered so extremely popular by Quevedo, that even down to the present day the Spaniards continue to admire them.483 His Bayles, or comic dancing songs, are, on account of their numerous allusions to national peculiarities, no less obscure to foreigners than the Xacaras.
Of all the Spanish poets, Quevedo has been the most successful writer of burlesque sonnets in the Italian manner. Some of these sonnets he shortened by depriving them of the three last of their legitimate number of lines, while the Italians on the contrary, attached to theirs the comic sequel which they called the Coda.484 Quevedo’s productions in this class are, for the most part, like their Italian models, full of allusions which cannot be understood without the assistance of a commentary. Some have a piquant sententious turn. But that licentious humour which distinguishes this species of composition in Italian literature Quevedo renounced, either voluntarily or from fear of the inquisition. Besides his burlesque sonnets, he wrote canciones and madrigals in the same style.
Quevedo’s satires in the manner of Juvenal, naturally connect themselves with his burlesque poems. Like his model he has infused into them nearly as much poetry as the satirical style is capable of receiving.485 These compositions display the noblest enthusiasm for truth and justice,486 and the most patriotic zeal for the honour of Spain,487 forcibly and clearly expressed.
Quevedo’s satires in verse and his poems of humour, are not so well known out of Spain as his prose writings of the same description, of which the most remarkable are his Visions or Dreams, and his novel of the Great Tacaño, or the Captain of Thieves, called Don Pablos, (Vida del Buscon, llamado D. Pablos), which certainly may be regarded as the most burlesque of the knavery romances.488 Lucian furnished him with the original idea of satirical visions; but Quevedo’s were the first of their kind in modern literature. Owing to frequent imitations, their faults are now no longer disguised by the charm of novelty, and even their merits have ceased to interest. Still, however, they must be regarded as ingenious productions abounding in practical truths. They are not, it is true, remarkable either for delicate satire or pure philosophy. But Quevedo’s object was to scourge human folly and vice in the mass; and the severe lashes which he deals out in his Visions, are in excellent unison with the popular nature of the idea and the poignant style of its execution. He has made perverted Justice, with all her servants and satellites, and particularly the Alguazils, figure in the fore ground of his picture; but the melancholy fate of the author may well excuse, though even in the visionary world, these monotonous features in his satirical work. Among the passages for which no just excuse can be found, are some disgusting descriptions of the consequences of physical excess. The reader is occasionally surprised by the humorous sallies with which Quevedo breaks forth in these Visions; for example, in that of the Last Judgment, in which he describes “some merchants who had placed their souls across their bodies, so that their five senses got into the finger nails of their right hand.489”