"JtlJM OUI ' "'0037X1111130' V/\UTUUII i' 13AIN(1-3WV CO >■ ^ c: CD SO r< ^ILIBRARYQr^ ^IIIBRARY(9/^ *c u? ^OFCAll F0% .^,OFCALI F0% ,^W£•UNIVER% %jnvDjo^ %odiivjjo-^ ;10SAN ^(^Aavjiani^ "^(^Aavtiaiii^"^ ^rji^ONVsoi^ '^^/sm\4 IIBRARY =3 "^AajAiNrt-awv "^^^ir ^>^lOSANCElfj]> oAlLIBRARYOc. ^ i 1 1^ ^ so .^;OFCALIF0% -^tllBRAl ^OFCAIII >&AJ!YMniT"\^ -^OkVNn OSANCFlfj> ^UIBRAP^' '^ 1 i!.r >> ^ — XMEUNIVERi-//, -n ?=5 O . iJDNVSOl- ^AJ13AI^ < ^ si ^. i::r CO 51 •*j I r\r k t ftT t f _ ^^ ir iiiiii irr\/~- I r\C 1 n/Tf I in> f. ■ I r r r r .. .\V .^^ If- 3 A f HISTORY OF TWO QUEENS, VOL. I. MR. DIXON'S "\N^ORKS. I. THE HOLY LAND. ir. NEW AMERICA. III. FREE RUSSIA. IV. THE SWITZERS. V. HISTORY OF TWO QUEENS. VI. HER MAJESTY'S TOWER. VII. HISTORY OF WILLIAM PENN. VIII. HISTORY OF JOHN PIOWARD, CALLED THE PHILANTHROPIST. {Library Edition in the Press.) IX. PERSONAL HISTORY OF LORD BACON. ^ {^Library Edition in the Press.) HISTORY OP TWO QUEENS. I. CATHARINE OF ARAGON, II. ANNE BOLEYN, Br WILLIAM HEPWOETH DIXOK 1 1 VOLUME L , ,' > '' '> S^nb (BViim, LONDON: HUEST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHEES, 16 GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1873. All Rights reserved. J , f* , i i J ■*'*j > > , ' , ' J * 1 J ) i i i » i » » » ) i J •* 'jj "' >Jj J-'j ^ 'ii^iiJiJi LONDON : Pristkd by John STUANnEWAVs. Costlo Ut. Leicester Sq. i » I • 1 I DA 333 AGDh TO THE DUKE AND DUCHESS OF MANCHESTER j THIS HISTORY OF TWO QUEENS I (commenced at kimbolton castle many years ago) IS GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED. 4S8531 PREFACE. To group around the figures of two crowned and starless women the events of which thev were the leading types and memorable victims is the purpose of this work. To understand the passion of their lives we must stand amidst the conflicts out of which they came and into which they merged. Each is accepted as a type of what was best and worst in the revolt from Rome and the unfurling of a separate national flag. Each queen became a heroine of her party, and her human nature is forgotten in the cause for which she stood. In fact, we see these women through their children, and we judge of them by what took place in after times. It is through Mary that we guess at Catharine ; through Elizabeth that we guess at Anne. Wliile collecting my materials, I have visited all the places in which my story lies. Many years ago I first went to the Alhambra; and in after years Vlll PREFACE. I have Adsited every other town in which Catharine lived. The Notes and Documents show the sovirces of my information, most of which Hes in manu- scripts ; and I have printed in the originals such passages as support the views most likely, from their startling nature, to be challenged by those who know Spain only from books published under authority of Inquisitors. My obligations to archivists are endless, and I will but mention those of Simancas, Alcala, and Venice. To Sir Thomas D. Hardy, Deputy Keeper of the Records, my literary debts are very great ; and Don Pascual de Gyangos, Mr. Rawdon Brown, and Mr. Joseph Stevenson, have rendered me assist- ance in Spain, Venice, and Rome respectively, for which my thanks are but a poor return. 6 St. James's Terrace, Regent's Park, March 17, 1873. CONTENTS OP THE FIKST VOLUME, BOOK THE FIRST. BIRTH OF CATHARINE. CHAP PAGE I. FRIENDS OF LIGHT 1 II. ORDER OF ST. DOMINIC .... 9 III. INQUISITION IN ARAGON 18. IV. SACRILEGE AND MURDER . . . . 24 V. KING FERNANDO ..... 33 VI. QUEEN ISABEL 40 VII. A ROYAL EXILE 45 VIII. SENORA EXCELLENTA .... 52 IX. AT ALCALA 61 X. CATHARINE 66 BOOK THE SECOND. CATHARINK'S CHILDHOOD. 1. THE CARDINAL OF SPAIN .... II. A HOLY WAR ...... HI. MALAGA ...... 71 77 84 CONTENTS OF CHAP. IV. SANTA HERMANDAD V. >LATRIMONIAL SCHEMES VI. CROSS-PROPOSALS . VII. THE SECRET AGENT PAGE 90 95 101 107 BOOK THE THIRD ENGLAND. I. AFTER THE ROSES . II. CHURCH AND CLOISTER III. HENRY TUDOR IV. THE ENGLISH COURT V. THE SPIRITUAL POWER VI. PUEBLA IN LONDON VII. FIRST PROPOSALS . VIII. ARTICLES OF MARRIAGE IX. ARTICLES OF PEACE 115 122 128 135 141 148 153 160 164 BOOK THE FOUllTH. BRETON WAR. I. BRETAGNE II. EMBASSY TO SPAIN . III. CATHARINE PLEDGED IV. DUCHESS ANNE V. anne's LOVER-S VI. CHARLES AND ANNE VII. A YEAR OF INTRIGUE Mil. THE DUCHESS MARRIED 172 181 187 194 201 209 216 224 THE FIRST VOLUME. XI BOOK THE FIFTH. CATHARINE AT GRANADA. CHAP. I. FALL OF THE CALIPHATE II. GRANADA III. AT THE ALHAMBRA IV. A ROSE OF YORK V. INVASION OF KENT VI. AN IMPOSTOR VII. THE CHILD OF SIN VIII. FAIR JUANA . IX. SPANISH MARRIAGES PAGE 231 239 246 233 260 271 282 289 294 BOOK THE SIXTH. PRINCESS OF WALES I. CATALINA II. KING OF SCOTS III. RICHARD THE FOURTH IV. MORE WHITE ROSES V. CLEARING THE GROUND VI. A HOUSE OF WOE . VII. A VEILED INFANTA VIII. FIRST INTERVIEW . IX. DAYS OF COURTSHIP X. BRIDALS 301 307 316 322 328 335 344 351 357 365 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS 373 BIKTH OF CATHARINE. CHAPTEK I. FRIENDS OF LIGHT. 1485. 1, Fernando was afield against the Moors in A\ hat he called a holy war, and Isabel, his consort, was at Cordova, among her children and inquisitors, while a crime that was to ring through earth and heaven ^^'as being prepared in Aragon ; a crime that was to shake their throne, to draw them up into the north, to give the Queen a violent shock, to cause the birth of a princess before her time, to stamp the policy of King and Queen through all their future years. 2. The King was fighting hard, and something had been won. Cartama had been carried at a rush, and Honda had been taken by surprise. But Loja had defied his arms ; the Vega of Granada had been closed against his raids ; and Cabra's capture of the VOL. L B 2 BOOK I. BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 14P5. Caliph Abd-allali had been avenged by Az-zaghal, that Calipji's im'cle,,';^vho had routed Cabra in a splendid, night, attack. , The Queen was caring for her healthyfoi- sh'e' washfe^r a time when every one who wished her well was praying that her saints would bless her with a second son. Her only boy, Don Juan, was a feeble child ; as comely as an angel, and as little likely to remain on earth. All Spain was asking from her house a king, a warrior, and a man. But she was mainly busy with that 'new and holy Office,' over which her ghostly father, Tomas de Torquemada, had been called to reign. The crime that was to stay the clang of war was caused by an attempt to plant this Office in the soil of Aragon, and was concocted by a band of counts and knights, of advocates and doctors, who were known as Friends of Lio-ht. 3. These Friends of Light were found in every part of Spain, but chiefly in those ports and districts Avhich enjoyed some intercourse with Italy — the land of light. They were the pupils of Lebrija and Barbosa ; children of the great revival ; readers of the classics ; patrons of the printing- press. At Seville, Alcala, and Salamanca, many of those youths who heard the ]nipils of Landino and Politiciano lecture on the Greeks, had learned to feel that Homer and Thucydides might yield them richer nutriment than any of tlieir T^ives of Saints. These youtlis were called Amaiites de ];is Luces, and they loved a teacher better tliaii tliey loved a monk. CHAP. I. — FRIENDS OF LIGHT. 1485. 3 As learning was the light of heaven, a man who bore some portion of that radiance seemed to them a messenger of heaven. A man could teach ; who cared to ask if he were Goth or Moor ? To Ihem he was a master of the liberal arts. His lore was precious, and they prized him for that lore. A scholar like Antonio de Lebrija, or like Ayres de Barbosa, found a host of followers in the ]iio:her ranks, and most of all among those noble families in which the blood was mixed. Tudela and Lerida were schools of light. But the Dominican fathers — and especially those of Santa Cruz in old Castille — were up in arms against this pagan learning. Paul the Second had declared that he who reads Homer in his youth, is likely to worship Jupiter in his middle age. Supported by this papal verdict, the Dominican preachers told their hearers that the use of reading is to learn their duty to the Church, and that a Christian cannot learn that duty from a poet who had never heard of Christ. This pagan learning was a snare for souls, and he who fell into the trap was lost to God. "4. In contrast to these ignorant fathers, the sup- porters of a Greek revival took this name of Friends of Light. Though they were scattered up and down the country, they were strongest in those provinces and cities where the people had preserved their ancient rights. They lay entrenched along the Ebro, from Tortosa to the Pyrenees. In every part of Aragon, the cities had their fundamental pacts, their 4 BOOK I, — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. local parliameEts, tlieii* communal laws. In every part of Aragon the Friends of Light were many and of high repute. A mayor was usually a Friend of Light ; a judge was usually a Friend of Light. Luis Gonzales, Secretary of State, was ranked among the Friends of Light. Gabriel Sanchez, Lord Treasurer, and his brother Fernando Sanchez, Paymaster General, were considered Friends of Light. Felipe de Clemente, Protonotary of Aragon, was a Friend of Light. Alonzo de la Cavalleria, Vice-Chancellor of Aragon, was a Friend of Light. Pedro Cerdan, Miguel Coscon, and Martinez Gotor, three of the leading men in parliament, were Friends of Light. In truth, the Casa Blanca, where the Cortes sat in Zaragoza, then a bright and semi-Oriental palace, standing near the grim cathedral of La Seo, might be ranked, alike in outward beauty and in moral purpose, as a House of Light. 5. Among the deputies were many who had sprung from Oriental roots. Their fathers had submitted to the Cross and suffered baptism by the Church ; but they were thought to nurse a secret fondness for their ancient faith. Tlicy kept their bodies and their houses clean ; no smoke ascended from their hearths on Friday after sunset ; they were learned, liberal, and alert ; they watched the stars, and iniderstood the course of trade. To fathers who were hot in zeal and daik in vision, these were signs of an imperfect faith. Nay, who could tell, if in their private thoughts these Hebrews never turned from CHAP. I. — FRIENDS OF LIGHT. 1485. 5 saints like Dominic and Francis to Jehovah ? But the men were high in place and strong in wealth. Fernando's household swarmed with Jews. When seeking servants who could do his work, that sovereign never stopped to ask a man of genius whence he came. His ablest servants were of Oriental race. Gonzales was of Hebrew stock. Sanchez, Cavalleria, and Clemente, though of ancient lineaofe, had a ' taint ' of Hebrew blood. Clemente's father had been recently accused by ignorant monks of heresy. Gotor was a Jew in race ; Cerdan was a Jew in race. A man who held no public office, yet of higher credit in Fernando's tent than either San- chez or Gonzales, was Isaac Abravanel, a prince among the Friends of Light. Abravanel was no less eminent for his wealth and learningf than for his illustrious birth. Don Isaac, as his people called him, was descended from the House of David, and his family had dwelt in Spain, the second Israel, from the times in which the Temple on Moriah was destroyed. A minister of Affonzo, King of Portugal, he had quitted Lisbon on that ruler's death, and coming to Castille had founded banks, and helped Fernando by his knowledge of the world. Such men as Sanchez and Abraranel mixed easily with the highest class ; and families who traced their lineage to the days of Csesar, and affected to derive their names from those of Hercules, had run their azure blood into these brio^hter currents of the East. But if these men of liberal mood were strono- at court, G BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. they were yet stronger in the Casa Blanca. In the court they found some rivals in the knights of San- tiago and Calatrava, in the brethren of St. Francis and St. Dominic, in the warlike bishops, cardinals, and monks ; but in a free and popular assembly, jealous of their ancient charters and theii* local laws, these military and religious zealots held no place. Tact, knowledge, eloquence, were required to sway the Cortes. He who knew the history of Home and Athens, could display his reading with effect in Zaragoza and Lerida, where the forms of public life bore some resemblance to the systems followed in those ancient states. This knowledge was a property of the Friends of Light. Nor were these liberals less renowned in science than in statesman- ship. Zacuto, the ihost learned man in Zaragoza, was a Jew. He filled the chair of mathematics and astronomy, and his lectures Avere the chief attraction of the University. All lay professors in the University were Friends of Light. G. Among the highest nobles of the realm stood Blasco de Alagon, Senor of Sastago, and Juan de Urrea, Sefior of Aranda. Blasco de Alagon, owner of one of the widest lordships in the kingdom, one of the gayest palaces in the capital, was a scholar and a friend of scholars. Juan de Urrea, lord of a princely sweep of mountain frontier, was the chief of a distinguished race ; a race of poets, statesmen, and divines, who rank among the great celebri- ties of Spain. He was a scholar, and a friend of CHAP. I. — FRIENDS OF LIGHT. 1485. 7 scholars. Hardly less conspicuous for his birth and wealth than these great nobles, was their neighbour Juan de Abadia. All were Friends of LiMit. Abadia was not free from ' taint ; ' an ancestor having taken to himself a Jewish wife ; but Alagon and Urrea might have boasted of the bluest blood in Spain. These magnates were connexions of Marti- nez Gotor and Pedro Cerdan, Gotor, a soldier, was lieutenant of Zaragoza ; Cerdan, a cividian, was an orator of the Casa Blanca. Like their race and class, these noblemen were "Friends of Light. 7. But if the Friends of Light were strong in court and Cortes, country-house and college -close, their enemies, the monks and friars, were stronger in the streets and alleys, by the city gates and on the Ebro banks. The rabble of the town were with the monks ; for Zaragoza was a sacred city, blessed by two miraculous virgins, each with a cathedral for her shrine ; La Seo, where an image of the Virgin had been heard to speak ; Del Pilar, where a second image of the Virgin had been seen to sit ; to each of which a crowd of pilgrims flocked from far and near, who filled the alleys with their fervoui', and enriched the craftsmen with their gold. These pil- grims brought with them the savings of their lives. No little of these savings dropped into the sacks of monk and priest ; the Lady of the Pillar being a public mendicant, and every one who knelt beside her shrine being told to lay a copper at her feet. All day there was a chink and roll of coin along the 8 BOOK L — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. marble floor. But every one had part and profit in the pilgrim's purse. A trade was driven in candles, crosses, pictures, rosaries, and charms. A crowd of lepers, slaves, and prisoners, hung about the sacred porch. A thousand smiths and dealers lived by- chasing and supplying images of the goddess on her jasper shaft. The shops and inns were fed by these gTeat swarms, not one of whom trudged home from Zaragoza tUl his final piece was spent. Each citizen, according to his craft, had cause to shout, ' Long live our Lady of the Pillar — ^Santa, Santissima ! ' Between the fathers who had charge of these cathedrals, and the rabble who existed on the pilgrims, there were bonds arising from a common interest and a common creed. The Friends of Light had no specific ties. They had no seat, no fund, no general. They were not an order, and still less a church. For two things, and for two things only, they had worked together ; in supporting the lectures of men like Antonio de Lebrija, and in baftling the designs of men like Tomas de Torquemada. CHAPTER II. ORDER OF ST. DOMINIC. 1485. 1. The Dominican friar, to whom the Queen, while she was still a girl, and living in the convent of Arevalo, had pledged her word that, if she ever came to reign, her task should be to root up heresy from the soil of Spain, had held her sternly to that pledge. No sooner had she seized the crown than she was called upon to yield the first-fruits of her victory to God, by founding in her states a new tribunal of the Church, and giving to the judge of that tribunal an unlimited rule of life and death. A model for the Holy Office, which was Spanish — and not Catholic — in its genius, lay at hand. 2. Domingo de Gusman, a Castillian w-ho is known to later ages as St. Dominic, had founded in the thu-teenth century an Order of Preachers, afterwards called Dominicans in honour of their master, with a view to curbing heresy by word of mouth instead of by the civil arm, Domingo heard of men being stabbed and himg for lapse of faith who might have been recovered to the fold by gentler means. He 10 BOOK I. BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. thought it might be well to trust in truth ; to wrestle with erroneous doctrine ; to rely on reason, eloquence, and art. What sinner could resist good books, grave sermons, and the precepts of a holy life ? His pupils had been preachers, teachers, and examples of the faith. They had to study much, to labour hard, to hold a sober course. Their only arms being wit and skill, they had to master many sciences, to gain proficiency in many arts. What- ever told wpon the ear they had to learn, what- ever told upon the eye they had to do. The ardent spirit of their master lay upon them, and they touched that spirit with a yet more sacred and refining fire. 3. The school of Dominic had given the world such patterns of a Christian life as Walter Mauclerk of London and Saint Ambrose of Siena ; such lights of learning as Thomas Aquinas and Raymond de Peg- nafort ; such eminent writers as Nicolas Trivet and Pietro Marti re; such splendid architects as Sisto and Kistoro ; and such perfect painters as Angelico and Bartolommeo. Dominic had found his aptest scholars in Italian cloisters, and in Italy his Order held a higher rank than it acquired in Spain. At Florence men were drawn to church by moral force — the preacher's fervour and the painter's art ; at Seville they were driven to church by bodily fear — the sight of dark familiars and the smell of burning flesh. Each country had a method, and a mnn in whom that method took a living shape. In Italy, CHAP. ir. — ORDER OF ST. DOMINIC. 14S5. 11 the chief Dominican was Fra Girolamo Savonarola ; in Spain, the chief Dominican was Fray Tomas de Torquemada. Fra Girolamo was a man of learnmg, an enthusiast for freedom, and a true reformer of his age. Fray Tomas was a dull and coarse fanatic, voiceless in the pulpit, ignorant of the arts. While Fra Girolamo was listening at the feet of Mirandola, Fray Tomas was roasting the disciples of Mirandola in Seville, Cordova, and Jaen. When Fra Girolamo became a leader of the liberal ranks in Florence, Fray Tomas was employed in hunting down the liberal ranks in Zaragoza. Fra Girolamo was a Friend of Light. 4. The Spanish father was a man of sixty-five. Of noble birth, he chose the hood in preference to the plume and sword. A born ascetic, he could shut his lips on tempting food, and turn his back on rank and fame. He loved to hide and shiver in his cloister at Santa Cruz, which he had got the Queen to repair for him at Segovia. He liked to pierce and tear his flesh, and come into a church with clots of gore upon his face. For sixty years he had done little to excite the wonder of mankind. As Isabel's confessor, he had won from her that pledge to root up heresy from the soil of Spain ; but no one knew what use he was to make of the Infanta's vow ; and had he died at sixty years of age, he might have left behind him an obscure and blameless note, instead of that red light, which, like his name, is evermore in human memory, a ' burning tower.' 5. There being an ' office of inquiry' in many 12 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. cities, the Dominicans of Santa Cruz had asked of Isabel such a leao-ue between their order and the crown, as would revive this office of inquiry ; so that they might be the judges of opinion, and the Queen be forced to execute their sentences of death. The natural seat for such an office was Toledo ; but the Queen had shrunk from set- ting up these brethren in her capital. Toledo was the stronghold of a country ruled by ancient laws and popular magistrates. The Cortes would pro- test against illegal fines ; the judges might protect then- fellow-citizens from arrest. Carillo, the Arch- bishop, was at Alcala in bitter mood, disgusted vnth the court of Isabel, and anxious to restore his la\A^ul Queen. She could not think of askinof his consent. Nor would the brethren of St. Francis, jealous as they were of the Dominicans, endure to see them in the capital. Toledo was the city of St. Francis. Isabel was a Franciscan in the third degree. The royal children were Franciscans, in accordance witli their asre and sex. The Cardinal of Spain was a Franciscan. Almost every one at court was either a lay brother or a lay sister of tlieir order. In Toledo Isabel was building that Franciscan convent of San Juan de los Ileyes, which her architects were told to make the grandest edifice in S])aln. To fix her holy office in Toledo would have been to ])]ant it in the midst of powerful and vindictive foes. This oflice, tlierefore, liad to be establislied in a city where tlie crown was not CHAP. II. — ORDER OF ST. DOMINIC. 1485. 13 restrained by charters, primates, and religious orders. Seville was a crown estate. In Seville an inquisitor would have no ancient pact, no modern bishop, and no popular magistrate to fear. The province, as a conquest, was an appanage of the crown. Mendoza was ArchbishojD, and the people, who were mostly slaves and villagers, had no rights which they could plead in bar. A colony of Jews had settled in the town ; these Jews were rich in gold and jewels ; so that wealthy victims could be found at once ; and wealthy heretics, whose money might be poured into the royal coffers, were the surest means of proving to Fernando that his consort's holy office was a good and useful court. 6. A Moorish castle, standing on the farther bank, in the rough suburb of Triana, had been oftered to the fathers as their seat and jail. This home had suited them. A dark and rambling edifice, it lowered along the Guadalquiver, with a range of vaults below the water line. The gates were covered by a park of guns. Before these gateways spread a net of streets and lanes, m which lay reek- ing nearly all the filth and refuse of a populous city ; gipsies, smugglers, bandits, coiners, runaway monks, and slaves. Some potteries, knackers' yards, and soap-works lay about. All foul, unwholesome trades were banished to Triana ; and in this low suburb, where a dozen silver marks would either hire a brave's knife or buy a gipsy dance, the Dominican fathers held their coiu't of death. 14 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. 7. Fray Tomas had not been the first inquisi- tor. When Isabel sent for bulls empowering her Dominicans to judge and punish heretics, a cautious pope had tried to put her off ; but she had pressed her suit from day to day ; and Eome, not yet aware how far these powers might be abused, had yielded to her wishes. But the chmx-h in Spain had been as hard for them to conquer as the church in Eome. Carillo had withlield his blessing from their work. Mendoza, thouo-h a courtier, had refused to let them labour in his diocese. A scholar, ^\4th a scholar's feelmg for the power of argument, and a Franciscan's scorn for the Dominicans, he had tried if tracts and books might not achieve the ends expected from the rack and brand. Some months had passed in scattering sheets amonor the Jews and Moors, until a Jew of Seville, who had read these missives as a challenge, had been bold enough to answer them in print. At once the Order fjot a license to beo;in. A Jew who answered for his faith was not to be endured ; and in a week the rabble had been treated to an Act of Faith ; a pastime more exciting than a bull -fight, even when a matador was gored to death. The fiithers had not laboured long before the King, surprised by the abundant stream of gold which flowed into his cofiers, liad expressed his warm approval of his consort's Holy Office. But the Roman court had seen less reason to rejoice. The powers confeiTed l)y Sixtus had been grossly used, and rather for poUtical than religious ends. i CHAP. n. — ORDER OF ST. DOMINIC. 1485. 15 His bulls had given the fathers power to bring in such as wandered from the fold : but they had turned these powers against the Jews, who, never having been baptized, could not have wandered from the Catholic fold. In almost every case the motive had been orreed of monev rather than concern for truth. The fathers, too, had proved themselves unfit to occupy the judgment-seat. They had con- demned the innocent ; they had violated graves. All honest men were outracred bv their deeds ; and when , the pontiff heard that in a single year two thousand human beinsfs had been burnt in Seville, he was tempted to revoke his breves, though he might have to mortify the Queen. But Isabel told the Pope that things had gone a httle wrong through want of caution, but that all would soon be put in order if some asfed man. like Frav Tomas, her confessor, were included in the papal patents. Six- tus, wilHng to believe and to atone, had put the name of Torquemada in his bulls. 8. In no lonor time Frav Tomas had subdued his colleagues. His relations with the Queen conferred on him a voice which no Dom'nican brother could resist. If the Dominicans were growing in repute, Fray Tomas was the author of their rise. His pupil, Fray Diego de Deza, had been named preceptor to Don Juan. His coUeaaoie, Fra Pietro Martire, was a private secretary to the Queen and general tutor to the prince. The Blacks were o^aininor on the Greys. Althouofh the Grevs stood first, thev 16 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. were no longer all in all. While Isabel was building her mao-nificent convent at Toledo for the brethren of St. Francis, she was led to found a splendid convent at Avila for the brethren of St. Dommic. If the cloister of San Juan at Toledo was to celebrate lier closing of the civil war, the cloister of Santo Tomas at Avila was to celebrate her planting of the Holy Office in CastiUe. If the Franciscan convent was to bear the name of Isabel's patron saint, the Dominican convent was to bear the name of Torquemada's patron saint. To gratify the breth- ren of St. Dominic, this convent of Santo Tomas at Avila was built with money snatched from Jews whom they had put to death. If envy had not been a sin, the proudest brother of St. Francis might have envied Torquemada as he rode along the streets of Seville with liis forty mounted guards in front, and his two hundred men on foot behind. From Seville he had thrown his feelers into other of the cro^vn estates. A branch was fixed at Cordova, where the Queen was keeping coui-t. A second branch was opened at Villa Ileal ; a thu'd at Jaen ; and other branches were established in tlie conciuered Cahphates. But Torquemada was a daring man. From Villa Real he advanced on Leon, and the city of Valhidolid became the seat of an inquisi- tor. No sooner was Carillo dead, than Isabel allowed Fray Tomas to erect an office in Avila and Toledo. When the Pope sent out to Torquemada on the CHAP. II. — ORDER OF ST. DOMINIC. 1485. 17 Queen's demand a patent as Inquisitor -general of Castille, he only gave effect in writing to a living fact. Castille and her dependent states were yielding slowly, sullenly to the Queen, with protest here and there, stamped down and punished with un- sparing heel. ' The cities of Castille invoked the aid of Zaragoza, Barcelona, and Valencia; but the men of Aragon stood aloof, as free-born mountaineers are apt to stand aloof when neighbours in the plain are calling out for help. They never dreamt that an inquisitor would show his face in Zaragoza. Had they not their Casa Blanca and their funda- mental pact ? VOL. I. u 13 CHAPTER III. INQUISITION IN AKAGON. 1485. 1. Aloof and proud, these men of Aragon had joked and laughed at then- submissive brethren in the plains; but now the time had come for them to feel the yoke, and find how little could be done by prayers and protests, even when they called upon their Cortes, and produced their fimda- mental laws. In April of the pre\^ous year, Fernando had convened a council in the town of Tarazona, on the frontier of his kingdom, where, on the advice of Andreas Sart, a doctor of the canon law, and the assent of Alonzo de la Cavalleria, Vice-Chancellor of Aragon, he had 'decreed' the mtroduction into Aragon of his consort's 'great reform.' The Kmg was poor, and many of his counts and citizens were rich : — the brethren of St. Dominic had shown him how to fill his chests. The Kmg was troubled by his ParUament, many of whom were Jews : — the brethren of St. Dominic had shown him how these liberal orators might be crushed An Inquisition wa^ decreed. 2. A loud and strenuous opposition to this edict CHAP. III. INQUISITION IX AKAGON. 1485. 19 rose on every side ; in town, in castle, nay, in cloister ; for the bretliren of St, Francis and the fathers of St. Benedict were as much opposed to the Domi- nicans as were the Fnends of Licfht. The thincj was new, and they were steadfast to their ancient ways. No Cortes could have introduced the In- quisition ; for this new and terrible court was con- trary to the fundamental pact. ' Xo inquisition shall be held in Aragon/ their charter said. An ' office ' of inquiry had existed many years in Zara- goza ; but tliis "' office ' of inquiry had no "\-isible home, no special treasuiy, and no separate chief Alonzo, the Archbishop, was inquisitor ; Juan de Gomedes, vicar-general, was his adjutant ; but they had other duties than inquiiy after such as went astray. They lived in the great palace imder the cathedral tower: but no one thouofht of callinor ' CO them inquisitors, and theii* house an inquisition. Don Alonzo, the Archbishop, was a lad of fifteen vears : a natiu'al son of Kino- Fernando, and a madcap darling of the Ebro watennen and city mobs. Gomedes was a sober priest, who hked to steal from palace to cathedral, in the sombre aisles of which he said his office, and to sfUde across the plaza to his dinner and repose. Ee- >iding under the Archbishop's roof, and close to the cathedral of La Seo, where his duty lay, he had no wish to stir up strife and fill the street below with tumult. For the mobs of Zaragoza were no feeble folk. Lotid, fierce, and superstitious, they 20 BOOK I. BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. were easy to excite and difficult to restrain. The Ebro roaring past their walls was not so rough, so reckless, and so swift in wrath. They knelt in ter- rible fear and joy before the image of their patroness and guest. The Virgin was supposed to love their city, and to quit betimes her throne in heaven to sit and listen to their nones and vespers on her jasper shaft. Around that pillar knelt by night and day a throng of pilgrims ; rude and ignorant rustics from the fields, and no less rude and ignorant rabble from the towns. To stir these throngs was easy ; but Gomedes had no wish to kmdle sparks of fire beneath his roof. He would have shrunk from stir- ring up their blood by acts of faith ; solemnities which woke the passions of a Spaniard like a bull- fig] it. Nor was Juan de Gomedes eager to inquire. He owned no separate fund ; he could not force the mayor to act for him ; he had no power to seize a heretic's goods. In brief, this meek in- quisitor held an unseen court, inflicted shadowy censures, and relied for discipline on moral means. 3. Fernando's edict was to sweep away this old tribunal of inquiry, and replace it by a new and vigorous court. He wanted such a court in Zara- a'oza as his wife luid fixed hi Seville and Val- ladolid ; a court that could arrest his wealthy subjects in the name of lioly Churcli, and having found them wanting in some article of faitli, might give their bodies to the flames, theh monies to the Cro\\ n. CHAP. III. — INQUISITION IN ARAGON. 1485. 21 4. Fray Tomas had been fully armed. He was empowered to fix his seat in any place ; to frame his codes and rules; to name his deputies and fami- hars. Every officer in Aragon, from the Mayor of Zaragoza to the Grand Justiciary of the kingdom, was to aid his deputies in their quest. He was to seize suspected men, to hold them in his ward, and judge then- lapse from Catholic truth. He might proceed against them in the dark ; refusing to con- front them with his witnesses, or let them know the scope and nature of his charge. He might compel them, by the use of screw and jack, of cord and wheel, to open out their secret crimes. If he beheved them guilty of backsliding, he was autho- rised to send their bodies to the stake, and give then- chattels to the King. A cry of rage had risen from every town in Aragon and her dependent states. The upper classes would not read, much less accept, this royal edict, for a court with such exceptional duties was against their charter. Were they conquered Moors ? The King had sworn to guard their charter, as his title to the throne. They saw in his decree a temporal measure, and opposed it on a temporal ground. They steod upon their ancient laws. Va- lentia, Cataluiia, and Sardinia, the outlying states of Aragon, approved this protest. Rossillon, where the French were lyuig, was disturbed, and even in Navarre, which the familiars could not reach, all Friends of Light were eager to protest against the 22 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. founding of this new tribunal in a neighbouring state. 5. Fray Tomas named as deputies in Zaragoza, Gaspar Inglar, a Dominican friar, and Pedro Arbues, a Canon of La Seo ; but the Kuig, who had his worldly purpose, caused these agents to appear as deputies, not of Torquemada, the Castillian friar, but of his son, the bastard primate, and the pet of every pilgrim, artizan, and vagrant on the Ebro. Inglar and Arbues were to take instructions from Gomedes, and the office was to be in the Arch- bishop's house. 6. The Cortes, meeting in the Casa Blanca, sent a deputation to the camp at Jaen. They put their trust in Sanchez and Clemente, who were in the camp, and in Abravanel, who was oftener in the royal tent. Abravanel was not a man to think of violent courses ; but he had authority with the King ; and, if liis voice were raised at all, he would be certain to support the Friends of Light. Clemente had a grievance to avenge. The Sanchez family had also reason to distrust the new inquisitor and his familiars. Eveiy thing in time, and place, and per- son, led the Friends of Liglit to think they could control tlieir worldly and ambitious Prince. A spiritujd court, they held, had certain func- tions to discharge ; it might advise, exhort, and cen- sure an unfaithful citizen ; but such a spiritual court cr)nld lay no finger on that citizen's goods. Fray 'I'l'iiuis claimed a ritjlit to seize and to retain some CHAP. III. — INQUISITION IN ARAGON. 1485. 23 portion of a heretic's goods. This claim was con- trary to law. The Cortes begged the King to listen to their voice — the voice of free and loyal men, and strip his new inquisitors of these lawless powers. The deputies laid no stress on any other point. They raised no cry against the Church. If once Arbues and his colleague were deprived of their authority to seize a person's goods, they thought these new inquisitors would give them no more trouble than the old. Arbues could be trusted to retire the moment he was asked to seek out. error at his own expense. 7. A second deputation started for the Roman court. A new Pope, Innocent the Eighth, had just succeeded Sixtus ; and the deputies were sent to tell his Holiness how papal grants were being abused in the subjected Caliphates, and to protest against tliis planting of a new tribunal in their free and faithful towns. 24 CHAPTEK IV. SACRILEGE AND MURDER. 1485. 1. Arbues, ^yllo in pride and daring was a second Torquemada, when he found the Cortes bent on sending deputies to the Pope and King, resolved to strike a blow by which he fancied he could force these nobles to desist, Kepairing, with his colleague, Inglar, to the rooms of Juan de Gomedes, in the primate's palace, he despatched his agents through the town, with orders to arrest a number of reputed Friends of Light. Arbues found them want- ing in some article of faith. Fray Tomas had sup- plied him with a score of tests by which he was to know a secret Jew. He mio'ht be seen to drink Caser wine, and heard to ask a blessing on his cup. He might be found eating fish and oHves in honour of the dead. A man who wore fine clothes on Satur- day — a man who cast the horoscope of his child, — was likely to have been a Jew. One who looked carefully at the blade of a knife before he killed a kid, was probably a Jew ; one who recited a Psalm without the Gloria Patri, was certainly a Jew. Arbues found the citizens at fault, and judged I CHAP. IV. SACRILEGE AND MURDER. 1485. 25 them worthy to be burnt. A fire was lighted in the piibhc square ; the men were marched into a neighbouring church ; and while the deputies were on their ways to Kome and Jaen, Arbues caused two batches of his victims to be burnt alive. 2. The blow had now been struck, the war be- gun. Not only men who were the foes of Arbues because Arbues was a foe to learning, but those stifFer patriots who were always boasting that their country was a land of law and freedom, were excited to the point of frenzy by this daring deed. 'If such things can be done,' they cried, 'we are no better than Castillians, who have suffered Isabel to rob and burn them for the past three years.' From Aragon to Catalufia and Navarre, the passion of resistance spread. In every pro- vince, and in almost every village, threats were hurled at the tribunal and its agents. Never had the Friends of Light appeared so strong. The funda- mental pact was on their side ; the custom of the land was on their side. They had a strong majority in the Cortes, and this strong majority was backed by the most active citizens in the capital and in provincial towns. But aU these great advantages were thrown away in passion. Gotor and Cerdan read such notes from Sanchez, that they thought the King was with them; that the short way was the safest way ; that they might kill Arbues with no other risk than of fio-htino- with a monk who might be aided by a mob. They showed these 26 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARIXE. 1485. notes to Juan de Abadia, Blasco de Alagon, and otlier friends. At every word from Sanchez, men took fire. A Lord Treasurer, waiting on the King, could hardly, they imagined, be mistaken in the royal mood. To kill the man whom they regarded as a murderer, seemed at once the quickest and the surest way ; a way that gave them eye for eye and tooth for tooth ; and answered by an Act of Justice to his Act of Faith. The friars had tried to scare the Friends of Light; the Friends of Light would see if they could scare the friars. If Arbues should be slain, what man would step into his shoes and brave his fate ? Blasco de Alagon and Juan de Abadia took the leading parts in what was meant to be their counter- stroke. Alagon was to raise the necessary funds ; Abadia was to find the necessary men. 3. In no long time the money and the men were found. Alagon got ten thousand silver marks. Abadia found a man of gentle birth, Juan de Sperandeo, who was willing to avenge the dead. Sperandeo had a French domestic, Vidal de Uranso, who engaged to help him. Alagon was appointed banker to the fund ; Abadia was entrusted with arrangements for the actual deed of blood. Arl)ues, when he heard that men were hired to track and kill him, put a coat of mail beneath his gown, a cap of steel below his hood, a bar of oak behind liis chamber-door. He seldom went abi'oad, and never in the light of day. Abadia CHAP. IV. — SACRILEGE AND MURDER. 1485. 27 hung about him, with the two avengers at his back. Arbues feared to pass from the sedusion of his cell to the cathedral of La Seo ; even at the altar he was hardly safe. At night he stole into the temple, said his office, and retired as swiftly as he came. But he could only do so safely in the dead of night. 4. One dark September night, between eleven and twelve, Arbues left his cloister, picking up a lantern and a bludgeon as he stepped into the street. Going up the Calle del Sepulcro, and across the Plazuela de San Bruno — not a minute's walk in all — he entered the cathedral by its eastern porch. Dim lights were hanging in a vast and empty space ; a Moorish mosque, with Gothic choir and shrine. A lamp was hanging here and there, and priests were singing matins in the dark. Arbues set his lantern on the ground, and leaned his club against a shaft ; the first great column as he entered from the porch. At once, he knelt, pulled out his beads, and hurried through his office. In the gloom a figure was observed — a figure muffled in a cloak. This figure came and knelt beside him. Steps were heard behind the pillar, and a voice was raised in tones unusual in a church. The figure drew a sword, and slit Arbues through the elbow. ' Strike him on the neck!' Abadia shouted from behind the pillar, when Uranso, who was close upon the canon, struck him on tlie neck. A cry of murder rang through the cathedral ! Monks and priests came 28 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 14S5. forward ; lights were brought by shriekmg women ; and the murderers, on seemg they had done their work, drew off in haste. In less than thirty hom^s the wounded man was dead ; but ere he died, the city mob was roused to fury by the monks. Some men in hood and gown ran up and do\\m. the streets, exclaiming that the New Christians were murder- ing the old. ' The canon is the first to fall,' they cried, ' but others have been marked for death ; no man is safe until the murderers have been hunted do^vn.' From every narrow lane and dirty quay — the alleys of Sepulcro, Pilar, and Valero, the paseo of the Ebro, and the arco of the Dean — poured out a troop of spare and tawny men with matted hair, red belts, and hempen brogues. This savage crowd soon filled the public square, and clamoured at the primate's door for blood ; nor would they cease their cries until the boy-Archbishop came into the streets and promised in his fatlier's name that justice should be done. Alarmed by the Archbishop's words, even more than by the fury of his partizans, the Friends of Light made haste to fly, and by their fliglit gave up their cause as lost. 5. When news of this great crime arrived in camp, Fernando rode to Cordova, where his consort kept her court. His ofiicers tried to guess liis mood ; but he was not a man who wore liis purpose in his eyes. At Cordova, their liearts began to faint. Tlie Queen seemed fierce, and no one knew what course the King CHAP. IV. — SACRILEGE AND MURDER. 1485. 29 would take. The nearest to his person disappeared. His Secretary fled ; his Treasurer, his Paymaster fled ; his Protonotary and Vice-Chancellor fled. His highest offices were without their chiefs, and many of the courtiers thought he must recall these servants and support them in their contest. On the other side, the King was urged by two of his most active passions — by his greed of gold, and by his lust of power — to turn against them. He required no hint that if these men were hung, their goods and rents, their lands and castles, would be forfeit to his crown. Alagon and Urrea, men with rent-rolls only less long than their pedigrees, were at his mercy. Cerdan had heaps of money. Sanchez was believed to own a mine of wealth, and several counts and knights were in his jails. Five hundred citizens were under guard, and there were many more who might be seized if he should give the sign. Yet hoards of money were but part of what Fernando had to gain. By ruining the foremost Friends of Light, the liberal party in his Cortes might be broken and dispersed. 6. Fernando's war, though managed in the name of heaven, was a dynastic war. A cardinal, three archbishops, and a host of prelates, stood in mail about his tent. Whole groups of friars, black, white, and grey, were in his wake ; and hosts of martyrs, saints, and angels, were imagined in his front. His standard was a silver Cross. As many a text and sermon told, his objects were to 30 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. win back souls from error, and extend the limits of the Christian world. Yet those who knew him saw that liis pretence of fighting for the Cross was nothmg but a cloak. Fernando lusted after soil and sway. He hoped to win the Caliphate by force ; and after driving out the Moors, he meant to turn his sword agamst his native states. It was no secret in his council that he found the law a curb on his ambitious flights. In Aragon, a free and liberal country, with a fundamental pact, his powers were limited on many sides ; in Cataluiia, her republican sister, they were limited on every side. In Barcelona, then the richest port in Spam, the King had scarcely any power at aU. CastiUe and Leon, free and ancient states, with rights and charters older than the reigning house, were no more docile to the Queen than Aragon and Cataluiia to the King. Fernando wished to free his hand from these re- straints. In Cordova and Seville, where the people had no ancient laws, the crown could levy taxes, raise recruits, imprison heretics, and banish citizens by word of mouth and scratch of pen. A conquered district was a crown estate. Botli King and Queen preferred to live among these vassals in the South, where par- liaments never met to vex their souls. Tlie war was serving them in many ways. It gave them the command of armies wliich might overawe Toledo ami Zaragoza while they menaced Baza, Malaga, and Loja. It enlarged IVom year to year those conquered lands, in which they owned no law but CHAP. IV. — SACRILEGE AND MURDER. 1485. 31 their despotic will. It brought them, and secured to them, a compact with the church, the military class, and the religious orders. More than all, it gave them many a chance of acting ©n the Cortes of their independent states. This war was not as popular in the town as in the camp. A man who wished to Uve and trade, to keep the freedom handed down to him in full, to cultivate the arts of peace, could feel no joy in victories which brought fresh strength to King and Queen, which kept the court and council in the south of Spain, and threatened to transfer his capital to a conquered town. 7. This war was turning to a war of race, and many of the higher classes w^ere connected with the persecuted race. In every town there was a group of doctors, artists, advocates, and bankers, who had sprung from Oriental roots. In every noble house there was an Arab teacher, and in many a noble house there was a Jewish wife. Men married Jewesses more frequently than women married Jews ; yet almost every city saw some splendid matches made by Jews. Davila, when he married into the proud family of Mendoza, shocked no national senti- ment. In Isabel's closet and Fernando's tent, the ablest and most trusty officers were of Hebrew race. Few families in the higher ranks were free from what the new inquisitors were calling 'taint ofblood;' and when these fathers and their rabble raised the cry of 'Out with the infidel!', this war-whoop from the 32 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. cloister and tlie street was met by many a flasliing eye in court and camp. The crime of Zaragoza, which had stained a sacred edifice with human gore, was but a scene in this hot warfare of the cloister and the world. 33 CHAPTEE V. KING FERNANDO. 1485. 1. At thirty-three, Fernando was a small, brisk man, ahve in every sense, alert in every nerve. A chubby cheek, thick lip, brown eyes and raven hair, were lighted by a cold metallic smile, like that which shimmers on a well-worn front of bronze. His skin was tawny gold. Though he was squat in frame, his thews and joints were steeled by frugal diet and by exercise in sport and war. A sleek and comely face led many into deeming him a man of careless mood, more likely to be hunting lovely eyes than poring day and night through plans for conquering rival kmgs and overturning native laws. Yet he was one of those rare men who will not let their right hand guess the purpose of their left. In using men to serve his turn he had no rival. While he rode against the Moors, he made the Caliph of Granada trust him as a friend. When he attacked the Fundamental Pact of Aragon, he put his monks and priests in front, and threw the odium of his victory over law and justice on the Holy See. 2. By birth and training he was meant to be a VOL. I. D I 34 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. Friend of Light. His father was a patron of the great revival. In his father's house the leading influence was that of Abraham Bibago, an accomphshed Hebrew. In his father's days the printing-press was brought to Spain, and both the first and second books were printed in his native states. The house he Kved in, called the Aljaferia, was a Moorish palace; the church he knelt in, called La Seo, was a Moorish mosque. In every street his eye was gladdened by the sight of Moorish arch and star. On every side — in wall and tower, in quay and gate, in shrine and court — he saw the traces of a nobler art than that of the ascendant race. Fernando was too open-eyed and active to become a bigot ; but the love of power and lust of money might induce him to betray his natural cause. All causes were the same to him. The man was light of love, but never lio-ht of heart. His virtue was a clear and intellec- tual insight ; liis defect a want of S3anpathy and humour, and the moral insight which depends on sympathy and humour. In Fernando's eyes all men were rogues ; some rich and royal rogues, some poor and lowly rogues ; but in their several spheres they all were rogues. No living creature had his confidence. He kept a hundred secrets from the Queen. He named confessors by the dozen, but he told tliese monks no more than he allowed himself to tell his wife. A councillor had to guess his mean- inf from liis looks. Yet Nature had not given him the expression wliicli deceives without an effort to CnAP. V. — KING FERNANDO. 1485. 35 deceive. His mouth was big ; liis left eye turned askant ; his voice, which issued through a broken tooth, was an unpleasant hiss and snap. It was not hard to see that under the metallic dimple beat a heart of brass. 3. Once only in his youth, Fernando had been stirred into romance. He fell in love with Isabel and her fortunes ; nay, he put on rough disguise ; he travelled in the night ; he sought adventures in her name. But these wild oats of poetry were quickly sown ; and he had long ago found out, while he was under twenty, that a man may thrive in love with- out the burthen of a heart. The Queen suspected him ; for he had always cheated and abused her in a woman's rights. To gain her hand, he had not scrupled to concoct a papal breve, to wed her with a lie upon his lips, and cast her into what lie knew was mortal sin. Untrue to her in heart, although he prized her as a queen, he took no pains to hide from her his amours with the ladies of her court. In convents up and down the country, there were children whom he owned. His son by Countess Eboli was made Archbishop of Zaragoza at the age of six. A favourite child, Juana, borne to him by a noble Portuguese, and in his bridal year, he ho23ed to give a yet more lofty seat. Another son, a Catalan, was at Lerida, where he afterwards slept in peace beneath a splendid tomb. Two girls, each I called Maria, were the fruit of other amours. These Marias were in convents, over which they were in 36 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. time to live and reign as Lady Abbesses in virtue of tlieir birth. Though Isabel strove to treat the Kmg with grave respect, she could not always bear his false- hood. In her fits of rage, she fled, and shut herself behind some convent wall ; but he was younger than herself, and had a wheedling way no woman could resist. He was her soldier, statesman, and crusader ; in his absence everything went wrong. In all theu' quarrels, victory lay with him. 4. A younger son, Fernando was not born to reign ; but he had fought his way, assisted by a beautiful and wicked mother. Queen Juana-Enriquez, second wife of Juan the Second, king of Aragon, to what was properly his brother's place and throne. 5. Carlos, that elder brother, had the happy for- tune to unite the heirship of two neighboimng crowns ; his father, Juan, being king of Aragon ; his mother, Blanca, princess of Navarre. A union of these kingdoms would have put an end to quarrels which had fired the Pyi^enees for centuries, and would have closed against the French all passages and inlets into Spain. A student worthy of Bibngo, and a soldier worthy of the Cid, Don Carlos was the charm of every college and the pride of every camp. A * perfect prince,' he seemed ordained by nature to unite the scattered crowns and coronets of Spain. But all these qualities had made liim hate- ful to the young and wicked woman whom his father had espoused and made the mistress of his house. CHAP. V. — KING FERNANDO. 1485. 37 That house, the Aljaferia, standing in the Ebro vineyards, close to the Portillo gate, was shut against his feet. He had to find a home elsewhere. The Queen was young, the King her husband old. A Avitch in malice, she had turned her husband's heart against his handsome son. The prince had been arrested, thrown into a dungeon, treated as a rebel, branded as a man unfit to reign. She had compelled him by her policy to retire from Spain ; she had induced him by her falsehood to return without his father's leave ; she had betrayed him by her perfidy into taking arms. On finding he was strono; enouo-h to crush her, she had ofiered to become his ally. She had started on a journey with him, hoping to undo him with his friends the Catalans ; and some hours after she had left him, with a cordial greeting, he had sickened of a strange com- plaint and died. A storm of public rage had burst upon the Queen, whom every voice accused of murder. Catalufia Imd revolted from the crown, revived the old republic, and pronounced the King a traitor to his oatli. These Catalan republicans had not been crushed without assistance from the French, who had despatched some troops to Barce- lona, and received in pledge two Catalan duchies, Eossillon and Cerdana, with the fort of Salsas and the port of Perpignan. It was Fernando's mother who had brought these foreigners into Spain ; it was for crushing liberty in Cataluna that the French had got these duchies in the Pyrenees. 43S531 38 BOOK I. BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. 6. Navarre the Queen liad not been able to secure. As Carlos left two sisters, Blanca and Leonor, to succeed him in their mother's right, Fernando had no claim, remote or near. All hope of a pacific and immediate union of the kingdoms had been buried in Don Carlos' grave. But if the Queen had lost Navarre, and pawned Kos- sillon and Cerdaua, she had won by her dexterity a richer prize than either, in the kingdom of Castille. 7. A King of Aragon was always ready to disturb his neighbours in Castille. His people lived on rocky heights, from which they poured at will into the plains, and swept the pastures of their flocks and herds. AVhat Scotland was to England, Aragon was to Castille. When Isabel had risen against her brother, Enrique the Fourth, and sent to Aragon for help, the beautiful and wicked queen had named the price of her support — the rebel princess must espouse her son and share with him her future throne. Three obstacles had seemed to bar this union. Isabel was engaged elsewhere ; the Prince and Princess were of kin ; and King Enrique was not likely to consent. Her lover, Pedro de Pacheco, was a man to claim his bride. The Poinan curia was unwilHiig to annoy a reigning prince by granting Isabel a dispensation on tlie score of blood. No one supposed the King would give his sister, then in aiTns against him, to tlie foremost enemy of liis crown. Yet all these obstacles had been swept CHAP. V. — KING FERNANDO. 1485. 39 away. Pacheco had been poisoned on tlie road ; a papal dispensation had been forged ; the King had been distracted and defied ; and on this ruler's death, Fernando, as his sister's husband, had secured possession of his crown. 40 CHAPTER VI. QUEEN ISABEL. 1485. 1. In person, Isabel was like her father's mother, Catharme of Lancaster ; tall in stature, full in bust, and fair in tint, with auburn ringlets, cold grey eyes, and cheeks on which two full-blo"\vn roses burned. In figure, as in mind, she held a vast reserve of strenp-th. She knew the female arts ; could broider, trifle with her lute, and speak her native tongue with grace ; but she was not a queen of song, still less a queen of learning, as her scribes gave out. She kept a dozen priests and monks to praise her ; writers like Alonzo de Palencia, who could tell the story of her life in unctuous periods, and like Pietro Martire, who could sound her virtues in the ears of cardinals and kings. 2. These priests were bound to Isabel by stronger ties than love of food and hope of place. Sl>e was their child, their banner, and their pledge. Tlic books' she read were lives of saints ; the coiui:, slie kept was one of monks and nuns ; the metliod of lier hfe was service to the Cluirch. She entered a religious order ; she arrayed herself in cord and sack ; slie took upon herself the customary CHAP. VI. — QUEEN ISABEL. 1485. 41 VOWS. Beneath her purple robe — and she was fond of wearmg silk attire — she wore a long chemise of serge. She strove, and not in vain, to make herself a type of monkish and monarchical Spain ; that Spain which had not heard of ancient Greece, and hardly heard of ancient Kome ; that Spain which knew no pagan poetry, no Spartan heroes, no republican cities ; and, in happy ignorance of what our race had done in nobler ages, was content to follow in the wake of holy monks and kiss the rod of native kings. 3. A sister of the Order of St. Francis, Isabel had a fancy for the lower classes, and could dazzle and mislead them, like her English kinsman Richard of Bordeaux. A rogue in rags was pleasant in her sight. Like other princes who aspire to rule beyond the law, she liked to turn the rich against the poor, and to excite the poor against the rich. A wish to set one class ag-ainst the other led her to revive the Santa Hermandad ; a league of towns and villages which in ancient times had risen against the nobles and the crown. She hated what was new, and still more what was liberal. She suspected learning as a snare for loyalty no less than as a snare for faith. A man who lived in Plato's Athens and in Scipio's Bome, might grow impatient of Toledo ; even as a man who spent his days in reading Homer and Cicero mip-ht turn in weariness from the book of saints. The printing-press and classical revival, she was taught, were leading men to doubt the power of holy Church. She put the presses under strict control of 42 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. mayor and monk, and kept tlie promise slie liad given to Torquemada, her confessor, that if God should raise her to the throne, she would devote herself to rooting out of Spanish soil all creeds and rituals hostile to the Catholic Church. That pledge had made her queen ; and when she was a queen, her masters, the Dominicans, had held her to a full redemption of that pledge. 4. A royal saint had been selected by her party as the model of her reign. This saint was San Fernando, one of her foregoers on the throne ; a man of her own house and blood ; a prince who had united Leon and Castille ; who had commenced the shrines of Burgos and Toledo ; who had carried fagots on his back to burn a heretic ; who had con- ceived the project of a holy war ; and who had won for Holy Church the mosques of Seville, Cordova, and Jaen. To crown the labours of this royal saint had now become the passion of her soul. She yearned to be a saint ; like that Elizabeth of Hungary who had lived in San Fernando's days, and caught her fervour from the Spanish prince. One lady of her husband's Hne, an Isabel of Aragon, had been canonized. This saint was born at Zaragoza, in that very palace of the Aljafcria which the living Isabel occupied as Queen. Her room was treated as a shrine, and every one at Zaragoza spoke of her with love and awe. What Isabel of Aragon was, lier namesake of Castille desired to be. The liviiiii" Isabel built a convent in Segovia, which she dedicated to CHAP. VI. — QUEEN ISABEL. 1485. 43 this sainted dame. Three objects always stood in Isabel's sight : — to spread the empire of her creed ; to live in favour with the orders ; and to get her name inserted in the roll of saints. To gain these objects she had laid out all her life ; had married, sinned, and fought ; had risen against her brother and dethroned her niece. To live in favour with the orders, she had built the great Franciscan convent of San Juan at Toledo ; curbed the printing-presses ; fixed her chief inquisitor at Seville ; founded the Dominican convent of Santo Tomas near Avila ; and bestowed her offices of state on friars, monks, and priests. 5. If she had gained her ends — a crown on earth, and something like the promise of a crown in heaven — she had been forced to pay the price of her success. The upper classes of her people feared her as a tool, and when their feelings broke into expression she was hailed by words of scorn and hate. G. Fernando, as became a pupil of Bibago, kept some taint of liberal culture in his household, where a man of talent, such as Gabriel Sanchez, might be used in State affairs without regard to subtleties of faith. Fernando never troubled his astronomer Zacuto on account of his belief. Chabillo of Mouzon, and Paulus of Heredia, could pursue their studies under him in peace, though they had never knelt before a cross. But Isabel would have no servant in her house, no teacher in her schools, on whom her grand-inquisitor refused to set his seal. Two 44 BOOK I. BIRTH OF CATHARIXE. 14S5. Popes, Eugenius and Calixtus, had forbidden parents to allow their children to be taught by Jews ; how, therefore, could a Christian prince permit his chairs of history and science to be filled by men of that for- bidden tribe ? Fernando used his priests when he could turn then- cloth against a foe ; but Isabel, who had the weakness of her sex and country, sought, in what she termed her pious duties, a protection from the stings of conscience and the phantoms of remorse. 7. These stings of conscience and these phan- toms of remorse were not the vapourings of an idle fancy, bent on delicate questionings of the heart ; but ministers of outraged nature, such as every man and woman may expect who wades through treachery and bloodshed to a throne. The ghost that came most frequently to the couch of Isabel, that scared the sleep of innocence from her eyes, and fed the daily fever in her blood, was that of a fair girl, her niece, and queen ; a girl whom she had WTonged, dethroned, and buried in a foreign convent cell. No rite performed by an inquisitor could lay for Isabel this royal ghost. Nor was Fernando, as her partner on the throne, less troubled by the royal maid. In every word he wrote, in every })]edge he gave, Fernando had his eye and tliought on lier. She was his evil genius, and tlie only human being who could force his game. How he might act at Zaragoza towards the Friends of Light depended on ilie course he had to take in reference to the exiled queen. 45 CHAPTER VII. A ROYAL EXILE. 1485. 1. This exiled queen was lodging in the convent of Santa Clara of Coimbra, in the bare and lonely district north of Lisbon, under watch and guard of John the Perfect, King of Portugal, who held towards her a jailor's office, and received from Isabel a jailor's pay. 2. Juana, only child of Enrique the Liberal, was bom the lawful heiress of his kingdom ; but her father had not pleased the great religious orders which were striving for the mastery of Spain ; and she had lost her crown in the mischances of a civil war. All through" Enrique's reign — a reign of foreign trouble and domestic strife — the brethren of St. Francis and St. Dominic had been striving with that Greek revival which Antonio de Lebrija and his learned friends were preaching in Castillo. The King, a poet and a friend of poets, had been a patron of these liberal studies, a protector of these earnest men. 3. Enriquez de Castillo was his chaplain ; Alonzo de Palencia was his historiographer. He had sought 46 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. his councillors and companions in the liberal schools. Pacheco, his most potent minister, was descended from a Lisbon Jew. Castillo was a councillor as well as poet-laureate. Arias de Avila, an accom- plished Jew, was master of his exchequer. Don Gaon was his farmer-general. A Moor was cap- tain of his guard. A Jew was bishop of liis favourite seat, Segovia. Jacob Nunez, a distin- guished Jew, was his physician. Many of his architects were Moors. His palace at Segovia and his sepulchre of the Cid at Miraflores proved his taste in art. All guests who visited his court were struck by what appeared its gay and liberal aspect. Lisbon may have been more enterprising; Granada may have been more splendid; yet the arts of peace, and notably the minstrel's craft and mason's trade, had found no truer patron than En- rique of Castillo. In taste, in study, in amenity of life, his court had been a Moorish rather than a Gothic court. 4. The Spanish brethren of St. Dominic had called his court a liljertine court. Religious orders lean to the ascetic and despotic sides of life ; for they are founded on the principles of abstinence and submis- sion ; and tlie members of such guilds are apt to fancy that the rules by whicli they live are good for all mankind. In leaning to the harder sides of life, the brethren of St. Dominic went beyond the Car- melite and Benedictine monks. They liated freedom even nK)ro tlmn tlicy suspected light. Their mission CHAP. VII. — A ROYAL EXILE. 1485. 47 being to strengthen and defend the Pope, as one who held the keys, they wished to have a prince, who, in his sphere, was like a pope — a man above the reach of law. By word and deed, they taught the duty of submitting to all popes and kings, as men submit their soids to God. But in the Greek revival they could find no sanction for the doctrine that obedience is a virtue, poverty a grace. The glory of that learning which was stimng all the youth of Alcala and Salamanca was a glory of Olympian gods, free commonwealths, and independent scribes. A pope had told them that a man who studies Homer in his^youth will worship Jupiter in his riper years. Against this great apostasy, the brethren of St. Dominic had been trained to fight ; and those of Santa Cruz were brooding on a plan for silencing such teachers as preferred the Georgics to the Book of Saints. But they required a partner on the throne, and agents in the royal judges and provincial mayors. They had not cared to combat, as their founder meant, by written books, by spoken words, and by the precepts of a holy life. A classical teacher had the gift of speech. To write and preach against him was to court reply. The brethren yearned to crush their enemies by force ; and enemies like the Friends of Light were only to be beaten down by men who held the civic sword. A ghostly weapon would not smite them; but the subtlest brain and nimblest tongue might quail before a secret judge, a searching rack, and a chastising fire. 48 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. 5. A royal architect and poet was no partner for a crusade on these learned men, and he who could not be a partner must be dealt with as a foe. At first the brethren had been prudent in their work. A king has many eyes and hands ; but preachers like the brethren of St. Dominic have means of acting on the public mind unseen. They have the cloister and confessional at their service. As an architect, Enrique loved the Moorish arcli and star, and strove to imitate the Moorish dome and tower. This taste for foreign things might be pre- sented to the faithful as a danger for the Cross. Would not indulgence towards the Arab's art beget indulgence towards the Arab's creed ? Were not the Moorish arch and star the sign and light of Moslem faith ? Enrique's faith had never been ro- bust. His fatlier, who had also been a poet and a builder, was suspected of conversion to the Moslem rite ; and who could tell the brethren of St. Dominic that his daughter, trained amidst a court of Jews and Moors, would live to be a faithful and obedient queen ? Enrique liad abused his royal power. Not only had he filled his court w4th foreign ai'tists, but had given the care of Christian souls to men whose fithers crucified Our Lord. Juan Arias, Bishop of Segovia, was a Jew, and Pedro de Aranda, Bishoj) of Calahorra, was a Jew. The fathers had been no less })uzzled than enraged by such ap- pointments in the Church, llesolved to figlit for sway, and if they won, to tear the ancient codes CHAP. VII. — A ROYAL EXILE. 1485. 49 and pacts as Pedro of the Dagger had destroyed the Instrument of Union, they had cast about them for a tool ; a ruler who should owe his crown to them, and who would hold it in subjection to their will. 6. In order to impeach Juana's right, the fathers had been forced to blast her mother's fame. That lady was their queen ; but in a friar's presence queens are only dust. A sister of Affonzo, King of Portugal, and of the Empress Leonor, that queen had brought into Castille a mind as happy as her face was fair. In seeking to disturb her daughter's claims, they had been forced to whisper that her cheery temper was the cloak of a corrupted heart. She was a Portuguese, and any tale might be received against a Portuguese. No proof of her disloyalty has ever been produced, nor were the prince and princess who had reaped the harvest of her wrongs deceived. But scandal may be raised without a shred of proof. A doubt once planted in the ear is sure to grow ; and in a kingdom torn by civil war, it is not hard to sow the seeds of doubt. They had suggested Beltran de la Cueva, one of the King's companions, as a lover of their Queen. Although of indolent artistic nature, apt to shrink from cares of state, Enrique liad been stung by these reports, and roused to take some measures for his own defence. With triple force, as husband, king, and flither, he had met these scandals of the cloister ; first, by showing confidence in his partner ; next, by taking oaths of fealty to his chiJd ; and VOL. I. E 50 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. last, by giving them Ms best affection, service, and respect. He had procured a wife for Beltran in a kinswoman of the Cardinal of Spain. Before the papal nuncio and legate, he had caused the Queen to make an oath on her salvation that the stories told of her were false, and that Juana was a true and lawful daughter of the King. 7. When king and pope, council and parliament, had proclaimed Juana's right and sworn to guard that right, a crowd of prmces had proposed to marry her and her estates ; Prince John of Portugal, Alonzo of Castille, Fadrique of Naples, Charles of France. Charles, Due de Guienne, had been the favourite suitor, and the land had hailed Juana and Guienne as future Queen and King; all Spain, except the mother of Fernando, and those brethren of St. Dominic and St. Francis, who were fighting for supremacy in Spain. That Avoman could not hope to get the princess for her son, and the religious orders wanted a less powerful pupil on the throne. A sovereign with a perfect title would be strong enough to reign without their help. 8. Fray Tomas having made his bargain with Enrique's sister, the Dominicans had held her to her pledge. The stony region, lying round the two strong cities of Valladolid and Avila, liad always been devoted to the Clun'cli. Alonzo Carillo, primate of Castille, a r(>stlfss, vain, and domineering priest, had recently (IcuKUKlcd that the Moors and Jews should bo ox])ell('d ; and on the King refusing his request, he had retired from court in anger, and the CHAP. VII. — A ROYAL EXILE. 1485. 51 bretliren knew that foi- the moment they could count on his support against the Queen and her unhappy child. But they had not been able to go forward at a stride. Enrique had a brother, Don Alonzo, who was next in order of succession to his crown. Alonzo was a child, and therefore a convenient tool. At Avila, a rock-built town, with walls and towers as solid as the earth on which they stand, Carillo and a party whom his influence carried into opposition had deposed the reigning prince and set the boy- pretender on his throne. A band of discontented men had gathered on that rocky height, and from those rebel towers had hurled defiance at their sovereign lord. A war had then begun ; Alonzo as pre- tender in the front, and Torquemada with his pur- pose in the rear. Enrique, knowing that the boy was not to blame, had held his troops in check. Avila is the centre of a district noted as producing the most stupid peasantry in Spain. By help of igno- rant and superstitious boors, Carillo had kept the kingdom in a state of chronic feud. Avila could not be attacked. The great cathedral was a fortress ; and the walls defied the largest guns. At twelve the boy had played his part and disappeared ; and then the fathers and their party, going to the convent of Arevalo where the Princess Isabel hved, had offered her the crown. Already they had got her promise. If they made her queen, she was to be with them in heart and soul. They had in her a platform and a principle. Enrique was the Liberal ; liis sister Isabel was to be the Catholic. 52 CHAPTER VIII. SENORA EXCELLENTA. 1485. 1. Unbound by either oatli or edict, vote or pledge, tlie fathers had been free to come and go, to jest and sneer, to feign and fawn, as suited them from year to year. They had the pulpit, eucharist, and confessional, under their control. They had the choice of time and method of attack. They had a fort in every convent, and a spy in every house. A thousand scribes had helped to spread their lies. The women and the rabble had been always on their side. Resolved to win, and pitiless towards the vic- tims of their plot, they had denounced the child as Little Beltran ; they had stung their Queen to frenzy ; they had fixed an epithet more odious than the Liberal on tlieir King. Against these secret ails, the Queen had not been able to defend herself; and slie liad bowed her head before the blast — a lily broken in a storm. 2. Each movement in tliis drama had been watched and aided l^y Fernando's mother, who had thrown her soul int(j the strife ; and after years of civil discord, she had partly teased, and partly CHAP. VIII. — SENORA EXCELLENTA. 1485. 53 terrified, Enrique into signing articles of peace. These articles had been the cause of future wars ; for while Enrique fancied he was placing Isabel, his sister, next in order of succession to his daughter, Isabel's party and the Queen of Aragon contended that the articles he had been induced to sign had placed her next in order to himself Although he was too just and generous to deprive his sister of her proper rights, Enrique would not leave the offspring of Fernando to ascend his throne. When the Infanta Isabel was born, Enrique had denounced the marriage of his sister as unlawful, and her child as base in blood. All Europe had been told that Isabel's mar- riage was illicit in the eyes of God and man ; and as the Pope had not yet sent a lawfid breve to Spain, her eldest child was ' born in sin.' 3. Fernando, careless of these paper edicts and political oaths, had waited for Enrique's death, and then appealed to arms ; aware that words are vain, that might is right, that victory is law. At first his partner's cause had seemed a desperate cause. Right, law, and power were on Juana's side. The girl was hailed as Queen. She had the Cortes and the capital in her favour. Wlien her father died, the crown was on her head, and every act of government conducted in her name. Around her stood the Car- dinal of Spain, the Grand -master of Santiago, the Grand-master of Calatrava, the Duke of Arevalo, the Marquises of Cadiz and Santillana, the Counts of Benevento, Haro, and Tendilla, with a crowd of other 54 BOOK I. — BIHTH OF CATHARIXE. 1485. counts and cavaliers. Carillo was the only man of name who had declared for Isabel. Yet Fernando had not been dismayed ; believing in the power of priests and women to upset the strongest thrones. 4. Enrique had erected at Segovia, on the plat- form of a Moorish alcazar, a palace which he meant to be his house, his fortress, and his bank. This house, which he had given in charge to Andreas de Cabrera, one of his most trusty knights, contained ten thousand silver marks, the ready money of his kingdom. If Fernando could secure this fund, the insurrection might begin ; if not, the cause was hopeless. So it lay with Andreas de Cabrera to arrest or to provoke a civil war. Cabrera's wife had caused her hus- band to betray his trust, to yield the alcazar, and place his silver marks in Isabel's hands. Too soon defection had begun to spread. Beltran de la Cueva was among the first to violate his oath. Mendoza, too, was won ; but Isabel, in order to secure his favour, had been- forced to sacrifice Carillo, her most powerful prop. One kingdom was too small for two such spirits ; but the rebel queen, in giving up Carillo for Mendoza, was securing for her flag the craftiest head and wealthiest family in Spain. Five years this civil war had I'aged. The learned and commercial classes had sustained their lawful queen ; the great religious orders, witli the rabble they could (hive afield, together with the feudal counts and feudal bishops, had supported lier as2)iring aunt. Carillo, vexed to find his service CHAP. VIII. — SENORA EXCELLENTA. 1485. 55 spurned by Isabel, had made some efforts to undo the mischief he had wrought. He had returned to his allegiance to the lawful queen, had written, preached, and fought for her ; but he had not been able to unite the great religious orders to a liberal court. ' The Church in danger,' that exciting cry, which has so often roused an ignorant mob to madness, had been raised. The Queen, a cliild of twelve, had been presented to her people as an enemy of God ; her aunt, the rebel princess, as a child of God and an obedient servant of His Church. All persons who were faithful to their oaths, had been denounced as bad Christians, bad Catholics, evil-doers, heretics, and thieves. All those who fought for Isabel, even knights like Beltran de la Cueva, had been called the friends of Christ. From every part of Europe men of desperate fortune flocked to Spain. Itahans, Moors, and Switzers flung their swords into a strife where every act of rapine was rewarded as a service to the Cross. 5. Juana had no soldier who could cope with Isabel's husband. When this able general pressed her hard, Pacheo, as her father's minister, had im- plored her uncle, Dom Afibnzo, King of Portugal, to aid her by his arms. In earher days Affbnzo had been thought a soldier. By his wars in Bar- bary he had gained his name of African ; and both as kino: and kinsman he had seemed to be the natural champion of Juana's right. It av'US proposed in Lisbon that Aftbnzo should espouse 56 BOOK I. BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. his niece Juana, and her cause together ; so that he niio'ht march and combat for an interest of his own. A dispensation would be needed ; but a dispensation could be got from Rome. Affonzo had despatched his agent, Huy de Sousa, to demand from Isabel the recognition of Juana's rights as only daughter of Enrique the Liberal. Isabel had denied her niece's right ; on which the King of Portugal had crossed the frontier with his troops. As city after city hailed his troops, Affonzo had received this ciy of welcome as an invitation to assume the crown. At picturesque Plascentia, in the Moorish palace, he had met the Queen, his niece, whom he had then espoused, so far as he could marry such a child. Had he been swift of foot and strong of hand, he might have crushed the rebels at a stroke ; but lie had stayed his march in order to amuse his knights with feasts and shows. Fernando, takmg full advantao-e of these errors, had renewed his strenofth. The Kins: of Portugal had waited till it was too late to strike, and when it was too late to strike, had struck. One battle had dispersed his army and compelled him to retire, with an engagement to renounce his claims and those of his pretended bride. G. Affonzo had not kept this treaty long. The French, who hoped to keep the Catalan duchies, and the Austrians, who detested Isabel as a uaurpress, h;td induced tlie King of Portugal to try again. Once more his trooi:)3 had been defeated and dispersed ; CHAP. VIII. — SENORA EXCELLENTA. 1485. 57 once more the poor old soldier had been forced to sue for peace. Juana was a prisoner in her uncle's house ; and yet her aunt was not content. Wliat surety had she that Juana would not slip away to France or Germany ? The Emperor was her uncle, and the fio^htino; Archduke Maximilian was her cousin. Isabel had proposed a league between the royal families of Spain and Portugal, of which her niece should be the victim. John, then Prince of Portugal, was dreaming of a union of the crowns of Spain, and Isabel suggested through her agents that his schemes might come about in concert with her, but could never ripen through alliances against her. John was dreamino; of J nana. He had once before proj)osed to her. Since then his father had espoused her ; but their union was a form of words, and nothing had been done to give that form a spark of life. Juana was his cousin ; but a dispen- sation from the Pope would clear away impediments of blood. Yet Isabel's suggestion, as he saw, was true. The Princess Isabel, though born in sin, was obviously a better match. A papal breve had wiped away her shame. Her parents were in full enjoyment of the crown ; her claim to follow them was not denied. The Exile had at best a birthright in Toledo, while the Princess Isabel might live to wear the crowns of Sicily, Sardinia, Aragon, Leon, and Castille. John had accepted Isabel's hint, and signed a treaty for the marriage of his son Aifonzo to the ' child of sin.' 7. Juana, living as a queen in Lisbon, with a 58 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHAEINE, 1485. court of pages, minstrels, maids of honour, and con- fessors in her house, had seen her servants sent away, her title taken from her, and her liberty abridged. Yet something had been done to satisfy her pride. Her aunt had set before her maiden eyes the choice between an earthly and a heavenly crown. Would she elect to marry Juan, Prince of the Asturias, or go into a convent as a spouse of Christ ? Mendoza was not easy in his mind ; for he had been Juaua's guardian, and was well aware that all the stories told about ber birth were false. He felt the evil they had done, and feared the danger they had braved. Guienne was dead ; but Louis took the Exile's part. The Empress Leonor was outraged by the treatment of her sister and that sister s child. For years Mendoza had been seeking for the means of reconcil- ing aunt and niece. This task bad been too hard for even his elastic conscience and inventive bram. Juana would not take the veil, and Isabel would not yield her royal state. Wliat could he do ? One throne would not accommodate two rival queens. At length, he saw his way. As soon as Isabel bore a son, Mendoza put the case before her. Juan must espouse Juana, and unite the elder with the younger branch. The Queen adopted his suggestion ; though by offering to accept Juana for her son, and thus restore her to lier kingdom, Isabel made confes- sion that the rumours she and her adherents had been spreading for so many years against the mother had been false. Confession came too late to save that CHAP. VIII.— SENORA EXCELLENTA. 1485. 59 injured queen. The outraged woman's last few weeks of life had been so sweet and saintly, that the fathers had been moved to pity her. They set aside the injuries they had heaped on her ; and when her dust was laid at rest, they pointed to her end as that of one, who, sorely tried on earth, had passed into her rest a perfect pattern of the Christian life. But though the words were tardy, it was some- thing to the Exile that her aunt had been compelled to own by public acts her knowledge that the dead queen was innocent, and that the living queen, her daughter, was not born in shame. 8. Yet Queen Juana was not able to accept the match proposed to her by Isabel, her aunt. The Prince was eight months old ; the Queen was in her eighteenth year. Wlien Juan would be twenty-one, Juana would be thirty-nine. If she agreed to wait for twenty years, how could she feel assured that Juan would redeem his mother's pledge? As she woidd not accept this child, they carried, her from Lisbon to Coimbra, where they lodged her with a trusty abbess, under orders that the sisters of her convent were to worry her until she took the veil. In time, they got her to profess ; for she was soft of mood and full of saintly grace ; but they had not induced her to pronounce the final vows. No art, no menace, had succeeded with the lonely child; though prince and prior had essayed to work upon her mind. She had not ceased to claim her own ; she had not dropt her style of Queen. The Church 60 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. was asked to curse her, and such cardinals as Borgia had not stayed their hps and pens. All princes, dukes, and knights, who owned Juana, even in their secret hearts, were cast out bodily from the fold. Yet Isabel, in her palace and her chamber, could not rest for fear. If anything was wrong with her, as sickness in the house, disaster in the field, disorder in the towns, cross purposes in foreign courts, she felt that every eye was turning from the alcazar of Cordova towards that cloister of Santa Clara in Coimbra, where the holy maid was ready with her stainless banner and her popular name. The Emperor wished her to resume her throne ; the court of France desired her to resume her throne ; the people of Granada and Navarre expected her to resume her throne. Nor was she less desired at home. Juana had become a parallel to the Perfect Prince. As people prayed before the tomb of Carlos, they revered the Exile as a sort of living saint. All laymen of her kingdom, from the councillor at Isabel's table to the shepherd on his mountain, called upon the Exile by her popular and endearing names of Excellenta, Lady Excellenta, and Seilora Excellenta of Castille. Gl CHAPTER IX. AT ALCALA. 1485. 1. The summer had been hot, and Isabel was suffering in her physical and moral health. With autumn came a flood of rain. The Guadalquiver rose above her banks, and -swept though maize- field, melon-yard, and croft. Mosques, tombs, and houses, were surrounded by a flood ; the lower city was a lake ; and people had to paddle up and down in boats. Below the city wall, the river broke her dykes, and poured in one wild sheet across the plain. Trees, mills, and herds of kine, were swept away. From Cordova to Seville, m the basin of the stream, her country was a wreck. In Seville, too, a lake was formed in every square, and torrents roared against the walls and gates. A watcher on the Golden Tower could see the drovers floating through their fields on rafts. Triana, on the farther bank, where Tor- quemada held his court, was drowned. These floods brought pestUence; for out of lake and swamp steamed up a hot mephitic vapour which infected man and beast. Great battles had been fought around 62 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARTXE. 1485. these cities, and a host of corpses had been left to whiten on the ground. A cry of pest was raised. At Cordova, around the alcazar and mosque, now jDurged into a palace and cathedral, many of the poor and homeless drooped and died. The cry of pest was followed by a cry of flight ; and those who had the means of flight prepared to .fly. Fernando, no less startled by his news from Cordova, than by his news from Zaragoza, hastened from his camp, and snatching up his queen, his children, and his household, bore them towards the high and healthy ridge of Central Spain. 2. It was already ailtumn in the year of Bosworth- field and Ronda, when the royal company set out from Cordova. In front rode Don Fernando, Eang of Aragon and Sicily ; Dona Isabel, his consort, Queen of Leon and Castille ; Don Juan, Prince of the Asturias, their only son ; the pale Infanta Isabel ; the fair Juana and the child Maria, with their several abigails and knights. Behind the Queen, and prouder than the Queen, rode Pedro de Mendoza, Cardinal of Spain. Mendoza., from his pride of place, was called a king, the Cardinal-king of Spain. Not far l)ehind the Cardinal came his kinsman, Diego de Mendoza, Archbishop of Seville ; after whom, with no great pause and distance, came a crowd of ])relates, friars, and chaplains; prelates like Alonzo de Fonseca, Archbishop of Santiago ; friars like Tomas de Torquemada, Grand Inquisitor of Ciustille and Aragon ; qhaplains like CHAP. IX. — AT ALCALA. 1485. G3 Fernando de Talavera, prior of Santa Maria del Prado and confessor to the Queen. A tail of pages, cooks, and slaves, with many friars, black, white, and grey, were followed by the royal guard; a band of knio^hts in Moorish armour, ridinfr Moorish horses, and commanded by that gallant Count de Cabra who had marked the recent summers by a great success and a severe reverse. 3. ^^^lere could Fernando find a place of rest — a place of strength as well as rest — in which his Queen and children could remain while he was wrestling with the Friends of Light ? He dared not take them to the Aljaferia. A mob was howling in the streets of Zaragoza for the blood of Jew and Moor. The citizens of Tudela were protesting in the name of law and liberty against this cry for blood. In Teruel there was a rising of the people, headed by the magistrates and priests. In Barcelona every one was quick with rage, and every day produced some conflict with the royal troops. Valencia was unquiet, and his neighbours in Navarre were ready to support the Friends of Light. In spite of genius and success, Fernando was not loved in his here- ditary states, where people knew how he had risen to power, and every lip was praying to the Perfect Prince. The jails were full of knights and citizens, the abbeys and cathedrals of a surging and excited crowd. Fernando's officers were flying to tlieir lonely castles, to the liberal towns, and into foreign lands. He dared not venture to the Aljaferia, even 64 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. though his wife might wish her uifant to be bom- m the auspicious room where Santa Isabel had first beheld the light of day. *4. Wliere could he rest ? Toledo and Avila were too far away from Aragon. He must be near his frontier, yet beyond the reach of an aveng- ing knife. The Cardinal who rode beside him had a house at Alcala ; at Alcala, the holy city, lying in a green and fertile vega near the royal forests of Madrid ; and, save Toledo, the most populous town in New Castille. This house Mendoza offered to the King and Queen. 5. When seen afar off by the muleteers who trudge in dust and heat through Central Spain, this city has a look of age and strength becoming her renown. Yet her renown is old, is widely spread, and is of many kinds. She is the city of San Juste and San Pastor, and enjoys the special patronage of these infant saints. For centuries she was a citadel of Moslem pride, a centre of Arabian wealth and art. In later ages she was wrested from the infidel ; be- came the scene of Don Bernardo's vision, and the prize of King Alonzo's arms. When captured by the Chris- tians, she was consecrated to religion as a temporal liolding of the Church. For ages she remained a Ikjuiu of cardinals and primates, who enlarged Ber- nardo's cell till it was vast enough to lodge a royal household. Consistorial and inquisitorial courts were held witliiii her walls. She was the school and the retreat of Ximenes. A printing-press wliich rivalled 1 CHAP. IX. — AT ALCALA. 1485. 65 that of Venice spread her ftime abroad. Her colleo-e of San Ildefonso was a nursery of sacred learnino-, and the workshop out of which came forth the Com- plutensian Bible. For a century her doctors and .professors held a rank in letters hardly less conspicuous than the doctors and professors of Salamanca held in law. Not often have so many glories met in one small city ; yet the pride of Alcala is in a cradle and a grave. In Alcala Cervantes was born, and there Ximenes died. 6. A corner of the town was covered by the primate's palace, with a garden lying m the shadow of a Moorish wall and tower. Approached by spacious courts and splendid stairs, the halls and chambers of this palace were the pride of Spain. The Allelujah hall, the Inquisition hall, and the Banqueting hall, were royal rooms. Mendoza placed these chambers at the service of his sove- reigns, while those sovereigns were engaged in dealing at a distance with the Friends of Light. TOL. I. p 66 CHAPTEE X. CATHARINE. 1485. 1. In siding with his monks, the King made many foes whom he could ill afford to front. The nearest officers of his court were under ban. Navarre was friendly to the fugitives. The people of that countiy, clinging to the memory of their Perfect Prince, disliked Fernando for his mother's sake. Navarre received the Jews who fled from Aragon, and, as the exodus increased, provided them a separate quarter in Pamplona and allowed them to erect a synagogue. Ambassadors were coming from the Pope. The Emperor was hostUe ; and the Austrian court regarded Isabel's niece as lawful queen. The French were pouring troops into his duchies, and conducting their affairs in Pei^jignan as though Rossi lion were a part of France. A change of rulers at Pamplona, where Catharine, wife of Jean dAlbret, liad recently succeeded to her brother's throne, gave Charles, a leading influence in Navarre. Fernando saw the gateways of his king- dom in the west, as well as in the east, thrown open to an active and unscru})ulous foe. CHAP. X. — CATHARINE. 1485. 67 2. Nor was the outlook closed for him by- Germany, Eome, and France. What sort of king, he had to ask, was reigning in the English court ? A pirate named Columbus, kinsman and com- panion of the navigator, had received a patent as vice-admiral of the French fleet in Portuofuese waters, mainly with a view to harass the Venetian trade. Columbus hated the Venetians like a Genoese, and when their galleys hove in sight, with spices, cotton, wine and gold on board, he fell upon them, fought them for a summer day, and forced them one by one to strike their flags. On board these ships he found rich store of Spanish goods and produce ; bales of spice and bags of cotton, butts of wine and heaps of silver coin ; all which he seized and held as spoil of war. But having doubts if such a haul was lawful prize, he sailed for England, where he hoped to find a market for his spoil. 3. By treaty right, Fernando could demand from France the restitution of these bags and bales, and he was sending his request to Paris when he learned that the Italian corsair had retired into an English port. Columbus knew a little more of England than Fernando knew. Aware that Eich- ard had been slain at Bos worth -field, he knew that Richard's death had put an end to treaties made between the courts. Until those treaties were renewed, no rule of law prevented him from sell- ing in an Eiiglish port his captured bales of silk and butts of wine. Fernando was so far behmd 68 Book I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. in knowledge, that he could not learn what king was seated on the Eno^lish throne. Wliile he had been afield against the Moors, dark tales had reached him from that distant court, in which liis children, as the heh's of John of Gaunt, had an eventual claim. A king was dead ; his sons were murdered in the Tower ; the murderer had seized his crown. Plots, risings, and assassinations, marked that murderer's reign. An exiled prince had tried to land and failed ; a second effort of that prince had met with more success. But who had won the fight Fernando had not heard ; and when he wrote from Alcala, complaining of the corsair, he was forced to write in blank ; his letter bemg addressed to no one in particular, but only to ' the serene and powerful prince' who happened, when his note reached London, to be King. 4. Fernando sent his orders into Arao-on. A hall and chamber in his palace of the Aljaferia were pre- pared for the Dominicans, who hencefoi-th were to sit beneath the royal roof, and issue sentences of fine and death. His hand fell heavily on the Friends of Liglit. These counts and citizens, the flower of his estates, were hunted, tried, and hung ; nay, every one who gave them shelter, even for a night, was seized by royal officers, handed over to familiars of the Holy Office, hifl from sight in dungeons, tortured till lie answered, and condemned to ruinous fines, to penance in tlie church, and liaply to the flames. Uranzo turned king's evidence on the promise of a CHAP. X. — CATHARINE. 1485. 69 pardon, and was hung ; Fernando saying, as he strung him up, that by a pardon he had meant to spare the fellow's hands, but not his head. Abadia slew himself in jail. From every towni in Aragon, the fathers took at least one victim ; so that every town in Aragon should know what punishment had been aw^arded to the Friends of Lio^ht. Amona: these victims was a royal prince, Don Jaime of Navarre, Fernando's nephew, who was charged with liaving sheltered one of the unhappy fugitives in his house. Don Jaime was a son of Elinor, late Queen of Navarre, and uncle of Catharine, the reigning queen. Fernando loved his elder sister and her offspring, as he had loved his elder brother Carlos. Jaime was seized by the familiars, flung mto a vault, compelled to yield his secret, and con- demned to suffer personal shame. This prince, whose crimes were royal blood and noble sentiment, was carried from his jail to the cathedral of La Seo, where, in presence of Fernando's bastard son, the boy- Archbishop, and a crowd of monks and citizens, he was stript and beaten round the choir with rods. This act of shame, inflicted on a royal prince, was called a penance of the Church. 5. From Alcala, a fortress and a sanctuary, the King and Queen directed all these acts of vengeance. Upwards of two hundred citizens were put to death. The Cortes and the council-board were 'Urged of Friends of Light. Arbues was adopted by lie Queen. Thouo-h he was dead she named him her 70 BOOK I. — BIRTH OF CATHARINE. 1485. confessor, and tlie King decreed him a magnificent tomb. Amidst this reign of fire and blood, the Queen fell sick. She fainted in her chair, was borne into her room, and on the sixteenth day of December, 1485, was delivered of a female child. 6. This female child was born beneath a troubled star. She came into the world too soon ; her sex was a surprise and a regret ; and she was born, not only far from her imperial home, but in a fortalice of the Chui'ch. It was an open ques- tion with the judges whether she was not the Car- dinal's subject ; but the child was born as she would have to live and die — away from home, the sport of time and chance, the prey of rival priests and kino-s. CATHARINE'S CHILDHOOD. CHAPTEIi I. THE CARDINAL OF SPAIN. 1485-6. 1. Mendoza, Cardinal of Spain, received the infant from her nurses and adopted her by book and bell into the Christian fold. Her name was Catalina, the Castillian form of Catharine. When the rite was done in church, Mendoza gave a ban- quet in his splendid hall in honour of the child. Slie was his infant, born in his own city, and he wished to mark her baptism by a feast which min- strels would rehearse in son^, and chroniclers would celebrate in prose. 2. Pedro de Mendoza, known in story as the Great Cardinal of Spain, was born of noble race, and in the mind of every monk and priest he was the noblest of his race. 'His father was the famous 72 BOOK II. — Catharine's childhood. 1485-7. Marquis of Santillana ; his elder brother was the famous Duke of Infantado ; his cousin was the famous Count of Tendilla ; yet the Cardinal of Spain had risen beyond all reach of rivalry outside the reigning house. 3. A man with brimming eyes and shaven chin, you saw in him at once a pleasant mien, unruffled temper, and prolific force. In youth, a rhymester and a student, he is said to have translated Ovid into Spanish verse. In riper years, a friar, a coun- cillor, and a soldier, he had brethren in the cell and colleagues at the board who put that pagan poet to the ban. Though he was neither ignorant friar nor stupid councillor, he chose to fight beneath the flag that led him by the easiest road to fame and power. A member of the Order of St. Francis, he was vowed to poverty, to chastity, and to obedi- ence ; yet, in every stage of his career, he was devoured by greed of gold, by love of women, by ungovernable pride. He kept a table and a harem. In Mendoza's day, a prelate who retained one lady only in his house was deemed a model priest ; but he had taken to himself as many favourites as the King. Two ladies of the hifrhest rank bore children to him, whom he owned without a blush of shame, and whom he gave in marriage, with befitting fortunes, to his equals in hereditary rank. These pleasures of the table and the harem were the themes of many a stave and sermon, Avliich the young Franciscans, starving on their peas and rye. CHAP. I. — THE CARDINAL OF SPAIX. 1485-6. / 3 gullDed clown with water, loved to launch against their powerful and indulgent chief, Mendoza list- ened to these censures with a humorous smile. One day, an earnest brother, who was preaching in his presence, made a bold allusion to his fondness for the sex, his craving after money, and his appetite for meat and drink, as incompatible with his vows, and even with a Christian life. Some bishops who were in the church rose up in rage, and would have torn the insolent varlet from his pulpit ; but Mendoza stilled them by a movement of his eye ; and going in to dinner, which was cooked as for an emperor, he took a dish of highly-seasoned game, together with a purse of dollars, and despatched them to that brother's cell. His meat and money were not thrown away, for in his next discourse the preacher undertook to show that Gospel liberty means a special license which is given to men of high estate. 4. Mendoza's feast in honour of the young In- fanta was prepared in the great banquet-room. The King and Queen, Don Juan, and the lords and ladies of two royal households, w^ere received in state, and fed with dainty food and warmed with costly wine. Fonseca, the Archbishop of Santiago, graced the feast. Mendoza's banquet had a rare success. 5. Yet there was hot debate between the royal mayor and clerical judge. At Alcala, Mendoza claimed to be sujDreme. The place belonged to God and not to man. It was a city of the Cross, re- 74 BOOK II. — Catharine's childhood. 1485-7. covered by a miracle, and held in virtue of that miracle by the Church. A storm began to rage round Qatalina's crib in Alcala, like that which was to rage about her closet at Kimbolton in her dying hour. The royal mayor asserted that his powers were absolute. He was the royal mayor — in Alcala the same as in Toledo and Zaragoza. ' No/ the clerical judge replied, ' Toledo and Zaragoza own another rule than Alcala ; those capitals are temporal cities ; Alcala is a possession of the Church.' Each party called upon his chief. Mendoza said his officer was right. Fernando, speaking for his consort, said her officer was right. All processes of law were stopt ; nor could the baby's birth be certified in the usual form. The Queen, when told of the affair, would not give way, because the matters in dispute were held to touch the unity and splendour of her crown ; the Cardinal, on his side, could not yield, because the matters in dispute were held to touch the freedom and autliority of his Church. G. For Alcala was not a sacred and ideal city only, but a fastness lying in a fertile valley on the road from Aragon into the heart of Spain. It closed the shortest line from Zaraofoza to Toledo. In Carillo's days the town had proved a sure defence; for though the Queen detested lier archbishop, she had never sought to pluck him from this safe retreat. Mendoza could not say how soon such days miglit come for lu'm. Carillo liad been once as near to Isabel as he was now ; yet, in his later years, Carillo had been glad to CHAP. I. — THE CARDINAL OF SPAIN. 1485-6. 75 toy with magic and pursue the ehxir of Kfe behind a gate which neitlier King nor Queen could pass on penalty of stirring up the ire of holy Church. 7. A feud seemed ready to break out between the crown and church ; in which event the Excel- lenta might have been recalled, the priest of Zaragoza might have died in vain, the Inquisition might have been arrested at an early stage, and Catalina might have lived the abbess of a convent in some Spanish town. A sense of common peril checked their tongues. To turn upon each other while Granada still held out, while Aragon was burning into fever, while the French were stirring in the Pyrenees, was ruin to the aims alike of church and crown. Sage doctors met in council and proposed a truce. Fonseca showed the way. His plan was to refer the case to certain learned men, with power to study the original grant, and make reports to Cardinal and Queen. No one disputed Don Alonzo's grant. No one denied that this original grant had been confirmed by various kings and popes. The Queen herself had recently confirmed the grant. • One question still remained — to what extent the sovereign right had passed, in virtue of these grants and confirmations, to the primate of Castillo ? Was Alcala, like Rome, an absolute property of the Church ? Five learned men were chosen by the Cardinal ; five other learned men were chosen by the Queen. Fonseca was to act as president and moderator. These men were wise 76 BOOK II. — CATHAEIXE's childhood. 1485-7. enough to take mucli* time. Before Fonseca made liis full report, the Queen and Cardinal were in their graves, the Caliphate of Granada was de- stroyed, the German court was reconciled, the Inqui- sition was at work in every part of Spain, the liherties of Aragon were outraged in the name of Christ, and baby Catalina was a widow in a foreign land. 77 CHAPTER 11. A HOLY WAR. 1486. 1. The feast of blood being over and the Friends of Light dispersed, the Inquisitors having moved into the Aljaferia, and the offices of state being filled by orthodox counts and knights, Fernando and his consort quitted Alcala, in company with the Cardinal of Spain. They rode to Cordova, their conquered city, and the pestilence being abated, Isabel took up her residence in the alcazar. The children stayed with her, together with a crowd of tutors, chaplains, and confessors, while her husband and his generals bore the bars of Aragon and lions of Castille into the south. 2. A small, but beautiful and fertile part of Spain still owned the sway of Moorish prince and Moslem seer. That Andalus, of which Granada was the capital and Malaga the port, was painted by an Arab bard, Salami, as a land of gentle hills and fertile plains, sweet air and wholesome food ; a land of useful animals, abundant fruits, and constant seasons, neither hot hke Barbary, nor chilly like Castille ; a land of flowmg streams, bright groves. 78 BOOK II. — Catharine's childhood. 1485-7. and pleasant homes ; 'and peopled by a race of men endowed with ready wit, clear intellect, high courage, manly pride ; a peojDle in whose hearts there beat a passion for the highest and most gracious things. In picturing Andalus to men who had not seen that earthly paradise, an Arab poet drew on all the riches of his fancy and his memory. ' This land of Andalus,' wrote Abu Obeyd-illah, ' is like S}a'ia for the sweetness of her water and the pureness of her air ; like Yemen for the mildness of her climate, which is one perpetual spring ; like India for her wealth of drugs and spices ; and like China for her mines and precious stones.' Of this poetic land, Granada was the pearl. ' Granada,' cried her rhapsodists, with Oriental flush of metaphor, ' has no equal on the earth ; not Cairo, not Bagdad, nay, not Damascus can compare with her ; she is a bride, of which these cities are the dower.' Gra- nada was the throne of Andalus, protected by a ring of strongholds worthy to defend so rich a prize. Much fighting lay between Fernando and his prize, and he depended for the conquest of Granada rather on the Caliph's weakness, on tlie discords in his household, on the factions in his capital, and on the feuds between his towns, than on his own superior strength ; even though the armies he could put in line outnumbered his oppo- nents ten to one. Tlie Moors were strong in art, in science, and in engineering skill. Their troops i CHAP. II. — A HOLY WAR. 1486. 79 were better armed and better drilled than Spanish troops. Their swords were finer and their guns of longer range. The Moors were swifter riders, better shots, and more adventurous scouts. But they were few in front of many, and they had no leader equal to their foe. Though brave as lions, they were pushed from tow^n to town, from ridge to ridge, which, once abandoned to the Goth, could never be recovered ; yet the war was less a con- flict of the Goths and Moors, than a particular duel betw^een the King and Caliph. An unscru- pulous general, master of the art of war, as clear in aim as he was dark in means, was matched against a learned, restive, and poetic dreamer, who desired to live in peace, to please his mother, . to amuse the rabble of Granada, and to spend his days in the apartments of a favourite slave. 3. Abd-allah, this easy Caliph, was the eldest son of Hassan, a refined and restless prince, who had been no less hapless in his wars than in his loves. This prince had lost Alhama, — Ah de mi Alliama ! and the loss of that strong post had helped the faction of his wife, Zoraya, to dethrone him. Jea- lous of a captive Greek, on whom the Caliph doated with poetic frenzy, she had whispered through the city that her husband meant to raise the oflspiing of this Christian slave. A civil war had broken out. ' The Mosque in danger ' is as fierce a war- cry as ' The Church in danger.' From the kennel 80 BOOK II. — Catharine's childhood. 1485-7. and tlie college surged the champions of the mosque. The son rose up agamst his father; and the aged Cahph who had vexed his partner was expelled. Their country parted into hostile camps ; one caliph reigning at Granada and a second caliph reigning at Malaga, In evil hour, the hero, Az-zaghal, a younger brother of the Caliph Hassan, yielded to the clamour of his troops, and he, too, was invested with the sovereign rank. A province less in size than Yorkshu'e had to bear the burthen of three reigning princes, each of whom required a court, a harem, and a royal guard. 4. Of these three caliphs, Az-zaghal alone in- spired much fear in Spain. Abd-allah won no battles save against his father. At Lucena, he had fallen a prisoner ; but Fernando, who dis- covered that his absence from Granada might induce all jDarties in the country to unite beneath the flag of Az-zaghal, allowed him to return. Fernando got Abd- allah to accept a body-guard of Christian knights ; \vell knowing that the presence of these knights would rouse the fiercest ange/ of the Moors. Fer- nando sowed his tares in fertile soil. One town grew jealous of another ; jealous as Zoraya of the Christian slave. Granada flouted Loja ; Gaudix hated Baza ; and Illora envied Malaga. Instructed by his captor how to rule, Abd-allah olfered peace with Si)aiji to eveiy city that would own his sway, and war with Sjiaiii to every city that should close her gates against him. These appeals to Spain were CHAP. II. — A HOLY WAR. 1486. 81 backed by a display of Christian troops. Surprise, disorder, and division, showed themselves on every side. The aged Caliph was restored and was again expelled. His death brought no composure to the land ; for Az-zaghal, though followed as a soldier, could not reunite the factions as a prince. Granada was at issue with itself; one bank of the Darro being for Abd-allah, the other bank for Az-zaghal. The rabble were on one side, the nobles and pro- fessional classes on the other side. That rabble spoke of Az-zaghal, their only soldier, as a tyrant who was fighting to deprive a nephew of his throne. Fernando watched this Moorish leader with a wistful glance ; for whether his campaigns were brisk or sullen, nothing was decided even for a moment while this brilliant horseman was afield. 5. Good news saluted King and Queen on their arrival in the south. Fierce strife, they heard, had broken out between the two great factions of Granada, the Antiqueruela and the Albaycin. The Antiqueruela were" the knights ; the Albaycin were the roughs. These factions lived in different quarters of the city, and supported different Caliphs. All the upper ranks, the captains, advocates and mollahs, were for Az-zaghal ; the lower classes, porters, smiths, and muleteers, were for Abd-allah. Az- zaghal was marching on Granada to support his party and repel the foe : Abd-allah was flying on the road towards Seville, calling out for succour to his Spanish friends. A band of Christian horsemen bore VOL. I. G 82 BOOK n. — Catharine's childhood. 14S5-7. Abd-allali back ; and then a war of fire and sword consumed the capital Az-zaghal was posted with his knights in the Alhambra ; Abd-allah in the suburb of the Albaycin, secured by Christian troops. While thev were tearing at each other's throats, Fernando made a dash at Loja — strong and lovely Loja ! rising on her verdant hill, and closing by her ^tes the beautiful and fertile vecra of Granada. Troops from many countries flocked into Fernando's camp, and found a joyous welcome from the King. Earl Pavers, uncle of the Queen of England, rode into his camp, attended by a troop of English horse, and asked no other favour than to ride in front. Abd-allah stole away fi'om the Albaycin, and ap- peared among the Christian tents. Lord Rivers and his English troops, dismounting from their horses, raised their battle-axes in the air, and rushed upon the Moorish line. Struck senseless from the wall, his teeth knocked out, hLs \'isage mauled and spoiled, the Encflish Earl was carried to his tent. But men as stout as Rivers followed, and the siege went briskly on. Granada, torn \\'ith discords, would not send a man to help her neighbour in the hoiu* ot peril. Loja fell ; and then the out-work of Granada was in Spani.sh hands. Illora, Modin, and some other places, fell with Loja, Wlieii the vega bad been opened to his raids, Fernando sent Ins Caliph to the capitid, with offeis of a league of friendship if the people of Granada would desert the flag of Az-zaghal and CHAP. n. — A HOLY WAS. U-^. 83 dnye that warrior from his "irn.ne. A - entered the Albavcin ia. dis^ - of night convened a meeting of his parn=:i"-- H- told them Spain would lend them arm- . ^ ...... to expel their tyrant. If they wiil^^j. lor more, the King, his friend, would send them help in -i and gims, Would they not rise ? Wonld they not storm the tyrant in his purple hall • His cry was answered by a shout of joy ; the :: - : Spain was welcomed: and a laid .i^ ._r .^ was proposed. 6. On hearing that their plan? r r _ well, the King and Queen ivide - : ^-^.—^.^^r fiv^m Cordova to Santiago, one of " — ^rf v: > — ' 0: shrines which hardly yielded in importance tc- zne chapel of 0\u- Lady on her jasper shaft. St. James, the brother of our Lord, had taken shape in Si ? Santiago, a saintlv Hercules, a mundane Mkr:»eJ : and the people saw in him at once a saint. and a god of war. He was v: __. . ri .; :_ Spanish tioops : the highest military order in tiie countrv bore his name : and everv soldier of the Cioss, on nishino: into battle, was r- ' ed bv Vis captain and his priest that Sc\ _ ^st ot angels would be tghting at his side. So ^rea.* a victory as that of Loja called tor an i. :e; and so the King and Queen. aitende«i by tl son. their dauirLteis, and their hous^ rode: the north and threw themselves at Santiacos -- 84 CHAPTER III. MALAGA. 1487. 1. Next year Fernando turned his face towards Malaga; that shinmg city on the sea — the port of figs and oHves, grapes and ahnonds, mulberries and limes — of which the royal poets loved to sing. Blue waters washed the feet of purple hills, on which there seemed no speck of soil that was not garden, vineyard, olive- ground, and fig-walk. Every city of the East, from Smyrna to Bagdad, received the figs of Malaga with rapture. ' God has given to Andalus,' the poets wrote, ' a blessing which He has withheld from Bar- bary and Fez.' No less delicious were the grapes, both dried and pressed. '0 Lord,' a caliph on his death-bed cried, ' among the pleasant things of para- dise, let there be Malaga wine and Seville oil.' White mosques and houses glistened on the slopes. A mountain stream, which leapt into the city, fanned the narrow streets, and cooled the glowing air. High walls of ancient date ran round the place, and one great mosque, of special sanctity, Avith a noble court adorned by orange-trees, attracted ever}'' eye. The peoj^le were a quick, mercurial, and 1 CHAP. III. — MALAGA. 14S7. 85 artistic race ; professors, craftsmen, minstrels ; men whose thouglits were given to art and trade, and who were mainly anxious to pursue their lives in peace. 2. First sending help in men and money to Abd-allah, who was hovering in and out of the Albaycin, in the hope that he would give employment to the rival prince, Fernando marclied on Velez Malaga, a famous outwork of the still more famous port. Alhama gave the Spaniards access to Yelez Malaga ; a fortress which could only be assisted by an army coming from the east by steep and arid mountain roads. Yet Az-zaghal no sooner heard that foes were sitting down in front of Velez Malaga than he mustered troops for her relief; and hoping that the Moorish factions would forget their feuds in presence of so great a danger, rode from the Alhambra with his troop of horse. He sought his foe, and pressed him hotly ; but his squadrons were too light to raise the siege ; and in his ab- sence from the capital, the rabble of the suburbs stormed his palace and proclaimed his nephew Caliph. He withdrew to Gaudix, whence he watched the enemies whom he could no longer meet. Attacked by sea and land, the fort of Velez Malaga sur- rendered to the King, who instantly pushed on his troops to Malaga, and called upon that port and town to yield. 3. In this extremity the Moors bethought them of their brethren at the farther end of the great Midland Sea. A poet of their creed was seated ou 8G BOOK II. — Catharine's childhood. 1485-7. the greatest throne on earth. This poet, Bajazet, whose arms had smitten kings and khans, was mas- ter of two continents and seas. If any man on earth could help them he was Bajazet. An agent of the Moor was sent to the Serail, where Bajazet received him kindly. In romantic strain this agent prayed the Sultan to assist the Princes of the Beni-ahmer, Sons of Crimson, in Granada, who were pressed and harried by Fernando, King of Aragon, an enemy of their holy faith. His pleas were elegies, com- posed in Arab measure, and adapted to the prince whom he addressed. For Bajazet was not an ordi- nary Turk ; a young barbarian, hot with pride and strength, who fought from wantonness of blood ; but a paciBc prince, who loved to strike his tent and fold his flag, and grieved when he was forced to draw his sword and mount his horse. They told of what the Moors were suffering by the war. They spoke of what the Moors had done for Spain ; the cities tliey had built, the mosques they had adoiTied, the gardens they had planted, and the poems they had written, in a reign of many hundred years. Yet they were pressed, they said, by infidels on every side ; they feared the faith itself might perisli in the wreck ; tlieir only hope was in the justice and compassion of their Moslem brethren. If the Sultan would not aid them, they were lost. 4. A poet and a zealot, Bajazet was touched by these aj^i'X'rds. l>ut Spain was far away; Kazan was crying out for 1il'I[) against the Buss ; and h CHAP. III. — MALAGA. 1487. 87 lie was much averse to entering on a distant war. If he could do them good without declaring war he was inclined to serve them. Calling for his page — a page called Keraal, ' perfect,' from his personal beauty — he commanded ships to be prepared for sea. Page Kemal was to head this fleet ; he was to visit Spain ; he was to lend what help he could to the outnumbered Moors. As Kemal Reis, this page soon ■ made himself a name of fear ; but plundering cara- vels at sea and wasting woods and villages on shore, could not arrest the progress of Fernando's arms. 5. Though weak in numbers and divided in opinions, the southern Moors, in these last months of independent rule, exhibited the virtue of those nobler days when their supremacy in arts had been supported by supremacy in arms. A trading and artistic city held a mighty enemy at bay for six long months, disputing every rood of ground as he approached their walls, and beating him in many a fair and open fight. Once succour seemed at hand. From Gaudix Az-zaghal sent out a troop of horse to throw relief into the town, as proof to the defenders that they were not left to fight alone. But Abd-allah, who was afield with a superior force, waylaid this party of relief, and having either cap- tured or destroyed it, sent the news of his success into Fernando's camp, with presents of Arabian horses, with congratulations on his victories, and meek entreaties for his friendship. After a resistance which has given the Malagans a place in history. 88 BOOK II. — Catharine's childhood. 1485-7. they had to yield the sword, and trust the mercy of a man and woman who had now become their king and queen. 6. No age of time, no zone of earth, has wit- nessed a more brutal use of power than followed this surrender of the port and town of Malaga. When King and Queen rode in, together with their troops, they seized the alcazar ?nd public baths, they threw a company of friars into the mosques, they occupied the gates and towers, they tore the Crescent from all vanes and minarets, and, after chantmg mass and burning incense in the mosque, now named Our Lady's Church, they sentenced every man, woman, and child, without regard to age and station, to be sold as slaves. In vain the elders interfered in favour of the young. In vain the males protested on behalf of female innocence. The Queen was pitiless. Some Moors reminded her how differently their caliphs had behaved at Cordova, and in other cities where their anns had been resisted by a gallant people fighting for their homes. To spare a broken enemy was not in Isabel's nature. Men of rank and learning were exported to the Barbary coasts and sold for slaves. Young girls were given to soldiers and to priests. A few of the most noble and accomplished were reserved as pre- sents, such as queens might give and pontiffs miglit receive. Mendoza sent one band of noble Moors to Kome. 7. So far was Isabel from sparing these poor inno- CHAP. III. — MALAGA. 1487. 89 cents, she pressed to have her share and choice of spoil. The prettiest captives were reserved for her, and she bestowed these captives into slavery far and wnde. She sent one batch of them to Lisbon and a second batch of them to Na|)les. She dispensed them freely to the ladies of her court. Her tent, her stables, and her alcazar, were crowded with these sad and dusky forms. Ten thousand innocent men and women, many of them more ac- complished than her husband and herself, were given by her to slavery in a single day. 90 CHAPTER IV. SANTA HERMANDAD. 1487. 1. When the campaign of Malaga was over, and the troops were lodged in quarters to await the spring, Fernando, with his wife, his children, and his household, rode into the north, and took up his abode at Zaragoza, wiiere his Cortes were about to meet. 2. His Holy Office was unpopular with the upper classes, who were but too well aware that even in its milder form, the office of St. Dominic was forbidden by their fundamental laws. His capital was in mourn- ing for the Friends of Light. In every noble house there was an empty chair. In almost every noble house there was a widow with beseeching eyes, a son with burning cheek, a brother with revengeful heart. Of those who were not called to mourn the dead, too many were compelled to mourn the absent. Princes, counts, and councillors were in flight. A fither was in France, a son in Ziirich, and a brother in Milan. Some desperate men luid taken shelter in Granada. Like the dead, they were removed from time and space, and only felt by instinct in the void and pain CHAP. IV. SANTA HERMANDAD. 1487. 91 created by their loss. A chill, a silence, as of rage and sorrow, sat on Zaragoza, and if fear restrained the lust of vengeance, nothing but an armed band supported by a brutal mob could keep the citizens down. All Aragon was seething with the same white passion as the capital, and the dependencies of Aragon were seething like the parent state. To a demand for information as to any fugitives who might have entered Tudela from Zaragoza, the magi- strates of that liberal city answered they had none to give. Lerida, with the bishop at its head, was actually in arms. Valentia Avas excited, and the Catalans, still new to Torquemada's black famiUars, were kindling to the heat of civil war. Majorca, Sicily, Sardinia, were as warm against his Inqui- sition as the cities in his older states. 3. Fernando met these movements of his people with the cold and forward eye of one who had pre- pared his work. Abravanel was at his side, a pleader for compassion to the innocent, if not the guilty; but a greater than Abravanel was also at his side. The Queen could show no clemency to men whose friends had slain her priest. Fernando, fighting for the monks, was fighting for himself The mob was on his side. Though jealous of the crown, this rabble was obedient to their Church. By putting an inquisitor in front, and tearing up the charter of his kingdom in the name of holy Church, he could secure his ends, and yet incur no blame. Nor were these future benefits the whole of what 92 BOOK II. — Catharine's childhood. 1485-7. he had to gain. The fines were heav}^, and the seizures frequent ; but beyond this flow of money to his chests, he had a pressing need for men. His holy war was a consuming fire. Pay, license, love of arms, and chance of plunder, would not fill his ranks. To drive more soldiers to his camp, he wanted sharper spurs and stronger prods. These sharper spurs and stronger prods he found in the inquisitor's rack and brand. A man who put on armour for the Cross could hardly be accused of heresy ; and hundreds who would otherwise have been content to tend their vineyards rode afield in order to escape the logs and pitch. An Act of Faith was fruitful in another way. It kindled holy rage. It set the looker on athirst for blood, and most of all for paynim blood. From every Act of Faith a group of men- at-arms came into camp. On every ground of policy, Fernando saw a motive for supporting his Inquisi- tors against the Friends of Liglit. He therefore sent fresh troops to Teruel and Barcelona, where the clergy and the craftsmen had been making com- mon cause with the superior ranks against the de- puties of Torquemada, and repressed these risings in the name of law and liberty with an unsparing hand and hoof 4. The Friends of Liglit being mostly counts and kiiiglits, who lived in towers and castles up atid down the land, in lonely districts, difficult to reach and still more dilHcult to storm, Fernando formed a league of friars and villagers against them. CHAP. IV. — SANTA HEEMANDAD. 1487. 93 In Castille his consort had revived an ancient democratic union called the Santa Hermandad ; a leafrue of villaofers and town-folk, like the bands and brotherhoods in the Rhetian Alps ; which, under popular chiefs, had served in times of rapine to protect the weak against marauding nobles and rapacious kings. In her revival of this democratic league, the Queen had grasped the reins, and put the Bishop of Cartagena, one of her most trnsty partisans, in the chair of president. She turned the Santa Hermandad against the upper ranks ; so that a league which had been framed to check the royal power, was changed into the firmest bulwark of her throne. Though hating leagues, Fernando saw in such a brotherhood the means of checking knight and count, who lived on crested heights away from towns and royal fortresses. A league of peasants, governed by the brethren of St. Francis and St. Dominic, oftered him, without expense, a troop of friends in front and rear of every castle in his realm. That league, as in Castille, could be directed from the royal chanceries. In brief, the Santa Hermandad was necessary to the Inquisition, and Fernando asked his broken and dispirited parliament to revive that ancient and forgotten league. 5. The Casa Blanca was in no condition to resist the Aljaferia. Fernando was a victor, flushed with fame and rich with spoil. He only needed to pro- nounce his will. His palace was a fort ; his army 94 BOOK II. — CATHARINES CHILDHOOD. 1-185-7. lay about his gates ; and no one doubted that his soldiers would obey their chief. In arming him against the Moor, his people had been arming him against themselves. A sword will cut with edge and point, and with the backward like the forward sweep. A regiment can wheel to either left or right, and face to either front or rear. One year of war transmutes an army into a machine of brass and steel ^hard, bright, unreasoning, irresistible — and his battalions had been many years at war. The Moors were not subdued ; yet he who should have been the magistrate of a republic with the name of King, was fast becoming through his army a despotic prince. Such councillors as might have held him back were either dead or ruined, either exiled or imprisoned ; and the liberal benches in the Casa Blanca were too weak in number and in spirit to insist on standing by their fundamental law. Fer- nando had no need to press them much. Averse by instinct to such unions as the Santa Herman- dad, he only meant to use that league of monks and rustics for a little while. When they had served his purpose, they would have to go. He asked his Cortes to revive the union for a term of years, and, after some debate, that term of years was limited to five. His brother, Don Alonzo, Duke of Villahormosa, had been already named by Isabel her Captain General of the Santa Hermandad. 95 CHAPTER V. MATRIMONIAL SCHEMES. 1487. 1. Don Juan, Prince of the Asturias, now nine years old, was heir to more than twenty crowns and coronets ; to the kingdoms of Castillo, Leon, Aragon, Sicily, Toledo, Valencia, Galicia, Majorca, Seville, Sardinia, Cordova, Corsica, Murcia, Jaen, Algarve, Algesiras, and Gibraltar ; to the duchies of Athens, Neopatri, Rossillon, and Cerdana ; to the marquisates of Oristan and Goceano ; to the earldoms of Barcelona ; and the lordships of Biscaya and Molina, This inheritor of crowns was in the market as a marrying man. In order to impi'ove liis vahie as a match in foreign courts, his father wished to have him recog-nised as heir in Araofon and her dependent states. It was a form, and nothing but a form. No question as to title could exist in Aragon, whatever doubts might linger in the minds of men about his mother's title in Castille. In foreign countries he was known as Prince of Aragon, ro.ther than as Prince of the Asturias. As Prince of Aragon he had been offered in marriage to Lady Catharine of York. He was the only heir, 96 BOOK II. — Catharine's childhood. 1485-7. and so his right iii blood and law, as Prince of Aragon, was solemnly proclaimed. 2, Don Jnan was heir to every part of Spain, except the caliphate of Granada, and the kingdom of Navarre. Granada, as an enemy's country, might be won by force of arms. Navarre, a friendly country, governed by his cousin, might be gained by marriage. To a king who meant to play a leading part in general politics, Navarre was more important than Granada. She commanded every pass into his kingdom on the western side ; the pass of Ronces- valles, the path of Maya, and the road through Irun ; so that he who was the master of Navarre could pour his legions into either France or Spain. Navarre, a mountain fortress, was the key to either realm. To France she was the counter-part of what Rossillon was to Spain — an outwork, pushed beyond the mountain crests, from which an army could deploy. A Spanish prince, not master of Pamplona, was like a Frenchman who had lost his hold of Pcrpignan. He had to check a foe en- trenched within his lines. 3. Catharine of Navarre was young and lovely, but her youth and loveliness were little in her kinsman's eyes. She was a liberal, and she lield the mountain roads. By law and riglit she was his heiress, should bis cliildrcn fiil liini ; it was good for both that tliey should keep on terms ; and lie desired her to regard him as her nearest friend, lie meant to get her states by either love CHAP. V. — MATRIMONIAL SCHEMES. 1487. 97 or law, by either force or fraud. Navarre, he said, was part of Spain, and he must j:)ush forward his frontier to the Pyrenees. While Phoebus was alive he had proposed to give him Juana, his second daughter, for a wife. But Madeleine of France had put his suit aside. A sister of Louis the Eleventh, Madeleine had brought into the Pyrenees a soul de- voted to her native land. All questions took with her one form, 'Is this the thing to do for France?' Navarre was little in her eyes ; Castillo and Aragon were less. The house of Valois — Louis — France; these were to her the first and last. She had re- fused Fernando's suit because her brother wished to see Navarre and Aragon at feud. An embassy from Madeleine and Phoebus had been sent to Lis- bon with an offer for the royal Nun ; but in the midst of his alluring projects, Phoebus, like so many who had crossed Fernando's path, had died a sudden and mysterious death. When Catharine rose, Fer- nando's course seemed easier. If the Queen would marry Juan, all that he required was won : — Navarre would be united to the rest of Spain. If she had asked her country, Catharine would have married for the love of Spain. She asked her mother, and her mother, Madeleine, rejected peace and union for the sake of France. In place of Juan and his twenty crowns, she took Jean d'Albret, son of Alain dAl- bret, one of the petty seigneurs in the Pyrenees. Jean d'Albret, now King-Consort of Navarre, was liegeman to the King of France. VOL. I. H 98 BOOK II. — CA.THAR1XE's childhood. 1485-7. 4. If he \veve left alone, Fernando felt that he could reach Granada ; but he had to ask how- many of his neighbours would be glad to see him there 1 Would France, w^ould Portugal, would Austria ? France was anxious for her safety on the Catalan coast. Unless she w^ere a partner in his conquests, Portugal would note them wdth regret and fear. Austria, which had every reason to dislike Fernando, w^ould be weakened in her chief Italian states. As King of Sicily and the Sardinian Isles, Fernando w^as a dangerous neighbour to Itahan princes and republics ; and the King of Naples, as a mem- ber of his house, might die at any hour and leave him heir. No Kaiser could have wished to see Fernando grow in strength, and Kaiser Friedrich's family hated him with burninof bitterness of heart. A leacfue of neighbours was a thing which any w^eek might bring about. To keep the duchies, France would venture much. Being mistress in Navarre, she could attack him by the w^estern passes while she took him in the rear by w^ay of Perpignan. If either France or Germany could move the court of Lisbon to renounce the treaty and proclaim the Exile, his otfensive war against the Moors would have to cease, the Caliphs might have time to stay their feuds, and all his forces might be found too weak to hold in check the anns of Austria, P(jrtugal, and France. 5. His bargain with tlic Portuguese, by which the Exile was to be seciu'cil, was ten years old ; the cliild was grov/n into a woman : yet the years CHAP. V. MATRIMONIAI^ SCHEMES. 1437. 99 had failed to soothe his anger at the way in which his idUes carried out the peace, Fernando had pro- posed to use the Portuguese, and found the Portuguese were using and abusing him. If more than half the shame was theirs, they took good care that more than half the profit should be also theirs. No sooner had Fernando signed the articles, than he felt himself a slave ; a slave to what his country, in her pride and passion, called a paltry court and despicable race. No man in Lisbon paused to think of Spanish pique. The Portuguese could now be haughty and exacting in their turn. They held the key, and could unlock the gates. In every squabble over frontiers, water rights, and trade, the weaker party had compelled the stronger one to yield. By each afiiair Fernando had to wound the pride of Spain. In dealing with the outer world, in Paris, Augsburg, Ghent, and Pome, he had been bound to ask what Lisbon would approve. The Portuguese had never been content. As soon as John the Perfect had been crowned, he talked of tearing up the articles, renouncing Isabel for his son, espousing the royal Exile, and restoring her by force of arms. These insults galled Fernando sorely. No man likes to have his child refused, his treaties cast into his teeth. Fernando was too great for such an insult to be borne. 6. He turned his eyes towards France; and thought of making her a friend. Could he destroy the Austro-French alliance ? France and Austria 100 BOOK 11. — Catharine's chtldhood. 1485-7. were his enemies, and a connexion of their princes would perpetuate a line of foes. Could France be tempted to forswear the Austrian match ? His eldest girl was pledged to Portugal ; but pledges were to him a form of words. As Portuo^al could only injure him through the French, he would not need to fear her malice after he had made his game with France. A treaty with the House of Valois would secure his dynasty from all attacks. If Charles the Eighth, who had succeeded to his father, Louis the Eleventh, could be induced to marry Isabel, and call his troops from Perpignan, all Spain might soon be at his feet ; but he was careful not to lose his hold on John till he was sure of Charles, A clever agent, Ruy de Pina, was despatched to Lisbon, where he was to hear objections to the articles, and offer Isabel's younger sister. Dona Juana, to the Prince of Portugal. Juana was a lovely girl, the pride and darling of her race. Yet Pina was to offer a great sum of money, if the Portuguese would only take the younger and more lovely for the elder and more homely girl. 101 CHAPTER VI. CROSS-PROPOSALS. 1487. 1. Charles the Eighth, of France, had been engaged for many years to marry Marguerite, a daughter of Max, Archduke of Austria and King of the Komans. Louis, his sagacious fatlier, had ar- ranged this match, by which the French and German courts were to be bound by family ties, and France was to divide the sway and empire of the world with Germany. Charles was bound to Marguerite by many ties ; his father's pledge, his own assent, the custody of his betrothed, a treaty with the Flemish towns, an understanding with the King, her father, and a clear advantage to his crown. For Marguerite had the dowry of a princess in her lap ; two provinces, and many lordships, on the frontiers of his kingdom. Yet Fernando thought the youth, a son of Louis the Eleventh, would look to nothing but his gain, and therefore might be brought to cast off Marguerite in favour of his daughter Isabel and her contingent claims in Italy and Spain. 2. Fray Bernard Boyl, Prior of Monserrat, a famous shrine in Cataluila, was intrusted with the task of showing Charles, and Charles' sister, Madame Anne, how nmch they had to gain by 102 BOOK II. — Catharine's childhood. 1485-7. breaking faith with Max. Fernando's daughter Isabel would have, a royal do wiy, and in case her brother w.cre ta die siTe .woujd be Queen of Spain, and Queen of no smaU part of Italy. Of course, the French must give up Rossillon ; but after peace was signed that duchy would have less importance in the eyes of France. As Charles was governed by his sister, Fray Bernard addressed her secretly ; but Madame Anne, who knew her father's secret purpose, was in favour of the Austrian match, not only as a thing decided by her father, in his wisdom, but as being the best for Charles as well as France. The girl he was to wed was fair and young. Her father was a Kmg and would in time be Kaiser. She was then at school in Paris ; and if only eight years old, she was already French in wit and style, and showed some dawning of the talents that in after seasons were to crown her queen of epigram and song. But more than all to Madame Anne, this young Archduchess was to bring the provinces of Artois and Franche Comtd to her husband ; dis- tricts which would carry France some marches nearer to the German Rhine and Flemish Scheldt. No claims of a contingent sort outweighed with Madame ' Anne such clear and instant gains. If Juan lived, liis sister would have nothing but her dowry and her dubious birth ; and yet a main con- dition of the league with S])ain must be surrender of th(! fort of SalsMH and the town of Perpignan. Fray Bernard used his elu(pience in vain. 3. Fernando having failed with Madame Anne, CHAP. VI. — CROSS PROPOSALS. 14S7. 103 his consort seized her pen. Tf there were any word to say and any deed to do of special darkness, Isabel's pen was sure to be employed. She told Fray Bernard he must wait on Madame Anne ; present her with a purse of money ; ask her if she wished to seize the regency ; and offer her, in case she had a mind to rule alone, the whole support of Spain. But nothing came of this attemj^t on Madame Anne. Fray Bernard found that princess quick to take his j)urse and slow to enter on a plot against the King, her brother. As a pious lady, ripe in years and rich in faith, she knew that Dona Isabel had been 'born in sin,' and that her birth had been denounced in legal acts. She knew that Charles, her uncle, had jDroposed to wed the Exile, and that Louis, her congenial father, had sustained that Exile from a feeling that to help her w^as the safest thing for France. She would not change her course. Alliance with the empire, and retention of the frontier, were her corner-stones of policy. When Fray Bernard came back to the Aljaferia with news of his repulse, the King took up his former game in Lisbon, settled every point with John the Perfect, and rejoiced to find the Exile changed into a prisoner of the Portuguese crown. 4. But John, though useful as * a jailor of the exiled Queen, was not an ally who could help Fernando in a contest with the French. A prince whose blows would draw the French from Perpignan towards Paris was required, and only two such princes could be found alive. Max, King of the Komans, lying on 104 BOOK II. —Catharine's CHILDHOOD, 1485-7. tlie north, of France, could scare her by his lancers from Namnr and Metz, while Henry, King of Eng- land, lying on the west, could harry her by his fleets at any harbour from Boulogne to Brest. If he could make these kings his allies, and procure a triple league of England, Flanders and Castillo against the French, he might regain his duchies in the Pyrenees and yet complete his war against the Moor. But such a league would be a difficult work. The passions of all parties were against it. Max detested him, and he detested Max. Fray Bernard had been recently emploj^ed in trying to inflict on Max a personal insult and a public wrong. Nor was the feeling better in the north. Max hated Henry : Henry hated Max. All evil things were said, all evil deeds were done, by Max against the Tudor prince, whom he regarded as no better than the Queen of Spain. Each had seized a cousin's crown. Connected with the House of York by marriage. Max coald see that Henry's rise cut off his children's claim to what their birth had seemed to give them ; an immediate place in order of succession to the Eng- lish throne. 5. This fair-luiircd Austrian, known in sonir as Last of the Hitters, and in sarcasm as a maii * more Knight t]i;m Eulperor,' thougli as brave as a poetic war-god, \v'as a comic politician, teased by turbulent' burgliers and ;in em])ty pocket. Husl)and to the Duel less Marie ck^ Bourgogne, the only child of Charles the Bold and Lady Margaret of England, he was left, at twenty-three, a widower, and the guardian CHAP. VI. — CROSS PROPOSALS. 1487. 105 of his children, Phihp called the Fair, and Marguerite the Sprightly ; but the task of guiding two such heirs had been beyond his strength. Though Max could take a lady by his condor nose and golden locks, he was unfit to rule the burghers of her Flemish towns. He joined one party in these towns against another, and had entered into every brawl of Cod-fish mobs with Fish-hook mobs. The Fleminofs claimed a right to train their duke, his son, and pledged the sister of that duke, his daughter, to the King of France. This contract gave the French an interest in his states which they were but too swift to press. If Cod-fish gained a battle. Fish-hook called upon the French for help ; and Marechal de Querdes, their captain in the border counties, marched on St. Omer, and pushed their fortunes at Bethune, while Max was wrangling with the citizens of Bruges and Ghent. In spite of their engagement. Max and Charles were usually at strife ; but Max, instead of helping others, was in need of help himself. 6. No ally seemed of use except the prince who fought at Bosworth Field. But how could Henry be induced to draw the sword ? This ruler was the nearest friend of Charles ; the prince who helped him in his voyage and hailed him as a king when he had won his crown. He had no motive for a war with France. Before he sailed from Honfleur he had pledged his honour to re- nounce all claims on Normandie and Maine. Since his accession, Charles had kept on the most friendly terms with him, while Spain had held aloof and 106 BOOK II. — Catharine's CHILDHOOD. 14S5-7. Germany had treated lilm Avith scorn. Could any bait induce him to revoke his pledge and draw his sword ? Yes ; playing in the chambers of the Aljaferia there was such a bait. Fernando glanced at Catalina. Some obscure and nameless agent had been whispermg in his ear that Henry would be proud to have that young infanta for his son. Fer- nando seized the hint. Might not a step be taken towards a match, and under cover of that match a treaty of defence be urged and signed ? 7. Fernando would not venture far. As yet the Tudor reign was hardly two years old, and anything might come to pass in England. Such a scheme was sure to please the Queen, his wife, who bore a personal grudge against the House of York. While she was lodging in the convent of Arevalo, Edward, King of England, had proposed to her, and after asking her in marriage, had rejected her in favour of a subject and a widov,', the poetic Lady^ Grey. Their dynasty was also touched. A sister of the man who had insulted Isabel in her youth, the Lady Margaret of England, had bestowed her daughter, Marie de Bourgogne, in marriage on the son of Empress Leonor. Philip, grandson of these women, would be Emperor, and it was easy to believe that boy would be an enemy of Spain. Isabel would con- sent to any step that would annoy the House of York. TIk! English crown was always in the dust. Events would guide Fernando ; but a promise which iu' iiiid not keep unless he liked, might bring an English army into France. 107 CHAPTER VII. THE SECRET AGENT. 1487. 1. Fernando cast about him for an agfent who CD could go to London, see the King and Queen, in- quire about the Prince their son, observe the humours of the people, and prepare in silence the conditions of a league against the French. He was to speak about a treaty of alliance first, and only in the case of need to back that hint by reference to a match between the royal houses. Any agent he might send to London must proceed with prudence ; France being on her guard, and Henry on the friendhest terms with Charles. The object of his mission must be kept a secret, and if Madame Anne should find it out, the agent must be one who could be censured and disowned. It was no easy thing to 'keep such matters secret in a place like London, where the public policy was free to public comment, and a topic of the day in Council was a topic of the morrow at St. Paul's. The Spanish agent to be used must, therefore, be a man obscure, adroit, and close ; a priest, a lawyer, and a man of business ; who might claim the help of 108 BOOK II. — Catharine's childhood. 1485-7. monk and prelate, who might bandy terms with doctors and attorneys, who might hope to hold his own, on points of detail, with experienced men. He ought to be a man so little known that he could travel unperceived, and labour unsuspected, by the outer world. He must be one who would submit to serve for scanty pay, to take his orders like a trooper and a monk, to ask no question as to means employed, and in the case of either failure or detection, to become a willing scape-goat for his Prince. 2. In riding through those border towns which had no rights, Fernando met the man he wanted in a lean and learned cripple, Kodrigo de Puebla, mayor of Ecija, on the river Xenil, some few leagues from Seville. Puebla was a canon, out of orders, and a doctor not unlearned in the civil law. The man was gaunt and svvarth, a scare-crow in appearance, and a pedagogue in style ; but he was full of quips and wiles, a careless Christian, and a zealous servant of the Crown, What else he was — what else he might become when tempted by the sight of gain — Fernando, having neither sympathy nor humour, and observing men Avith cold, mechanical eyes — could hardly guess. How far the cripple suited him, he saw ; how far he also suited Puebla he could only learn in time. The man was very poor and frail ; so po(jr that he would serve on easy terms, so frail that he could raise no scruple as to means. His craving was to grow with time and chance, CHAP. VII. — THE SECRET AGENT. 1487. 109 but even when his master called him out, he knew some tricks by which a mission into England could be made to pay. Corn, tin, and cloth were dear in Seville and Toledo ; raisins, leather, oil, and wine were dear in London. Trade was cramped by laws and customs, which a royal license only could re- move. A man with friends at court might get a hcense now and then, and there were merchants from Coruna and Bilboa in London who would buy his favours at the market price. 3. On many grounds Fernando thought his offer would be well received. The change of dynasty had broken up all former treaties with the English crown. In neither country had the merchants of the other any legal rights. The risks of trade were much increased at sea, and almost every port was closed on their respective flags. No week passed by without some deed of violence being done, for which the innocent victim sought redress in vain. 4. A treaty that should open out the English ports and markets was desired on every hand in Spain. That country wanted corn and tin, which England had to spare. She also lacked the finer kinds of wool ; her fibre being too short in staple and too coarse in grain to weave. She had her dates, figs, raisins, leather, goat-fell, soap and wine to sell. Large works and factories had been built by her in Bruges and Ghent, and some of her adventurers had already crossed the Straits. Such merchants as Dieofo de Castro and Pedro de Miranda 110 BOOK II. — Catharine's CHILDHOOD. 14^.5-7. found a mine of wealth in London. Li\dng with the men of Cheape and Fleet Street, they became aware that English palates, though they liked the Spanish wine called bastard, had a wdiolesome craving for the vintage of Guienne. These men had houses at Bilbao, and ran their barks, the Santa Maria and San- tiago, from the Garonne to the Sluys and Thames. De Castro knew Machado, one of the foreign heralds, Nanfan, one of the King's body-guard, and Savage, one of the King's advisers in affairs of law. Through friends at court he got a license for himself and others to import from France no less than five ship- loads of claret. At a later date, about the time when Puebla was about to start, he had procured a license for himself and partners to dispose of cargoes brought from Spain ; no doubt of raisins, leather, Seville oil, and goat-hair ; all of ^^'llich were in de- mand at London Bridge. De Castro was a man of family, who lived in princely style at Burgos ; and the younger sons of many gentle houses in Castille were tempted by success to seek then- fortune in the northern isle. 5. The fame of Catharine of Lancaster was fresh in every mind. Her name and presence were the themes of popular songs ; her name and presence having been to Spain a flag of union and a pledge III' ]tcace. Her going into Spain had been connected ill tlir mind of every one witli slioep and ships; good mutton, l)etter woul, fresh cuslumers for raisins, leather, goat-hair, dates and Seville oil. In olden CHAP. VII. — THE SECRET AGENT. 1487. Ill time the families of England and Castille had been allied in marriage. Edward the First had married Elinor of Castille. Two sons of Edward the Third had married daughters of Pedro of Castille. Ed- mund of Langley had married Isabel, and John of Gaunt had married Constanza. Thus the blood of Lancaster was in the veins alike of Enrique the Liberal, Isabel the Catholic, and Juana the Ex- cellenta ; every party, therefore, in the land might find their hope and interest in a royal match. 6. No nation but the English offered them un- bought support against the Moors. Peer, knight, and man at arms repaired to Spain, as soldiers of the Cross, and fought for the recovery of Granada with the valour which their sires had shown at Azincour. Lord Pivers and his troop of horse, all men of gentle blood and richly dight, were seen in front of every charge, until the Queen, amazed at so much will to serve her cause, had sent the English peer twelve horses and an almost royal tent. Some pilgrims from this country were observed at Santiago and Monserrat, and the land they sailed from was itself an Island of the Saints. Canterbury was as great a shrine as San- tiago, and St. David's more than matched Monser- rat. Every county in the island had a holy well and tutelary saint. A Spaniard, therefore, looked on England as a field in which he might improve his fortune and refresh his soul. A daughter of Castille, descendinof from the House of Lancaster, 112 BOOK II. — Catharine's CHILDHOOD. 1485-7. the young Infanta was an English rose. She came from John of Gaunt by no concealed and crooked line ; the links connecting her with John being reignmg kings and queens. A bride for Arthur who had known no taint of blood was much to be desired by Henry ; and the King was sure to see this merit in the girl proposed. It was his wisdom to supply his own defects of title by a marriage with Elizabeth of York ; and in allying Arthur with a Spanish princess, he would be giving his issue the security of a second claim derived from John of Gaunt. 7. 'Induce the King of England to engage in war with France ; induce him, if you can, by promises of aid and friendship on our part ; if promises of aid and friendship fail you, oifer an Infanta for his son ; at any cost, induce him to engage in war.' Such, briefly stated, were the cripple's orders from his master's lip and pen. Puebla was never to forget that what Fernando wanted from an English treaty were his duchies in the Pyrenees. He had himself no means of wresting them from France, nor could he offer much assistance to an ally who was fighting for him while the Moorish war was on his hands. He wanted England to incur the largest cost and run the highest risk. In drawing up the articles, Portugal must ])e excepted from the clause which treated friends as friends and foes as foes. On no account could Spain admit a quarrel with the court of Lisbon. Even for the sake of winning back CHAP. VII. — THE SECRET AGENT. 1487. 113 Kosslllon and Cerdaiia, she could take no step that might offend the Portuguese and liberate the rojal Nun. Alone, in secret, and without his papers, Puebla started for Coruna ; carrying, in a sealed message from his King and Queen, the germ of treaties and events that were to change the maps of Europe and divide the streams of Western thought. VOJ. 1. ENGLAND. CHAPTER I. AFTER THE ROSES. 1487-8. 1. How stood the land which Puebla was to drag into a foreign war ? Between the empire left by Henry tlie Fifth in Paris and the fragments of that empire found by Henry the Seventh on Bosworth Field, there was the difference of a first-rate and a fifth-rate power. The ancient pomp of words was left ; but men and means to back this pomp of words were gone. As King of England, France, and Ireland, with his seat in Paris, Henry the Fifth had been as strong as either Kaiser Sigismund or Sultan Amurath. As King of England, France, and Ireland, with his seat at Windsor, Henry the Seventh was not much stronger than a Doge of Venice or a King of Scots. In thirty years of civil strife, extending from the 116 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 1487-8. onset in the streets of St. Albans to the clash of s-worcis on E-edland marsh, the country had been wastinof all her stores of strength. No one had time to think of Normandie and Maine, except as duchies lost for ever. Save the March of Calais, not a rood of soil remained to her in France. In fact, the tides of war were rolling back. A French and Breton fleet was cruising off her coasts, and hardly any of her ports were safe from Margate to Penzance. 2. Through these unhappy years the country had been burning in a never-dying fire. The French were either left alone in France, or called by York " and Lancaster to throw fresh fuel on the flames. From year to year these broils had been renewed, and eveiy spring-time with a deeper hate and fiercer ire. St. Albans, Towton, Wakefield, Barnet, were but samples of a hundred fields on which the noblest blood had soaked into the earth. Battles were fought of which the names are lost. Whole shires w^ere ravaged by contending troops ; for vic- tory had passed from red to white, from white to red, and every chieftain liad been able to enjoy his day of sweet revenge?. If York killed Somerset, ]\Inr<:aret li;id in tui-ii killed York. If Edward (Inive out Henry, Henry had also driven out Edward. Each had been by turns a sii])pliant, X)risoner, exile, despot. In that reign of violence, two kings were niunhM-t-d in the Tower, ten princes uf the royal house were slain, mihI half tiie peers CHAP. I. — AFTER THE ROSES. 1487-8. 117 of Enc^land swept away. Wlien Leo von Eozmital came to London, in tlie reign of Edward the Fourth, he saw the Queen, Elizabeth Woodville, seated in the midst of eight duchesses and more than thirty countesses and other great ladies. Nearly all these families had been broken by the civil war. Large towns had fallen to decjiy, and lands, which in the reign of Edward the Third were sold for twenty-five years' purchase, would hardly sell for ten in that of Edward the Fourth. With every change of prince the price had fallen. If a man had money, like an abbot, he could buy up manors and manorial rights, and get in every case a shilling for his groat. A man with wood to sell could hardly find a buyer. Every one had wood to sell. This wood was used for makinor beams and shafts, but while the torch of war was burning through the shires, what man had heart to build him house and barn? Land almost went a-begging. One who asked for largess from the King was better pleased to get two hundred pounds in money than a hundred pounds a-year in land. All men could tell how mucli a hundred pounds in gold would buy ; no man coald tell how little an estate in land might fetch. The 'com was sure ; the field might suffer from the tramp of man. Great tracks were often left untilled ; for no one felt assured that he who ploughed the soil v/ould live to bind the sheaves. Loose gangs, witli pike and fire-lock, wandered up and down, in search of captains ; willing to engage their arms in any 118 BOOK HI. — ENGLAND. 1487-8. cause ; infesting every yard and inn, and when their wants were pressing every glebe and hall. A thousand crimes, unnamed and nameless, were com- mitted bv these rovino^ bands. 3. Amidst this general ^^^.'eck, the martial spirit of the isle had all but died. In the unruly gangs who vexed the public roads, here robbing hedges, there abusing women, it was hard to see the sons of yeomen who had drawn their bows at Azincour. The warlike virtues are the last to go ; but as the nobler spirits of the country fell, their ranks were filled by rogues and scare-crows from the styes and stews. At Wakefield and Northampton there was something of the iwr^ which had swept the fields of France. At Bosworth there was hardly any fight at all. Some companies would not lift a pike ; some archers shot their arrows into empty air ; some captains turned against their flag. Two thousand strangers marcl^ed into the midland shires un- checked ; and with a band of uncouth allies gathered from the mines of Pembroke, seized the crown in ■^^•hat Avas liardly other than a country brawl. 4. Wlien Henry called his peers, one duke, nine earls, tw® viscounts, and fifteen barons, answered to his writs. Not one of the great dukes of Edward's reign was present. Buckingham had been put to deatli at Sahsbury. Bedford had been degraded from liis rank because of poverty. Suffolk had been butchered on his way to Calais ; and his son, now duke, being married to a sister of King llichard, CHAP. I. — AFTER THE ROSES. 1487-8. 119 was a fugitive. Exeter had been attainted and his honours lost. Norfolk had been out at Red- land marsh. The only duke who met the King was one whom he had made; his uncle, Jasper Tudor, whom he had created Duke of Bedford. Of the earls who answered Henry's summons — Arundel, Oxford, Kent, Nottingham, Wiltshire, Kivers, Derby, Huntingdon, and Devon — two had been created by himself; Thomas Stanley, Earl of Derby, and Edward Courtney, Earl of Devon. One, the Earl of Oxford, he had purged in blood. A Viscount, William Beaumont, and a Baron, Henry Cliiford, he had also purged in blood. The Earls of Warwick, Surrey, and Northumberland, had not been sum- moned to attend the King. Warwick, a Planta- genet, was under guard. Surrey was a traitor ; and Northumberland, who had refused to fight on either side, was in the north. Zouch, Lovel, Ferrars, had to answer for their necks. Of all the Neviils, only one, Lord Abergavenny, came into the House of Lords. In brief, the temporal peers were so reduced in wealth and numbers that the spiritual peers were found to have the mastery of vote and voice. 5. Letters and science had suffered even more than the temporal peerage by these years of war- fare. Art and song were dead. Tlie convents which were wont to pour out poems, chronicles, illuminated hours, and golden missals in a copious stream, had now become the homes of wounded 120 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 1487-8. men, the centres of political life. No Avork of note in letters had been written in those barren years. Such versifiers as Adam of Cobsam and Kichard of Hampole, only served to show that art Avas stag- gering under loads too great to bear. The race of poets who had followed Chaucer was no more ; the race which was to herald Shakespeare had not come. Lydgate was dead, and Surrey was unborn. If English maid or matron pined for song, she had to read the chansons of the Prince of Orleans. If a king desired to grace his court with laureates, he must call them to his side from Italy and France. All Henry's poets were of foreign bu'th. Andre was from Toulouse, Giglis from Lucca, Car- meliano from Brescia. Where could Henry seek for native song ? Skelton, the coming bard, had still his earliest rhymes to Avrite. G. Even popular quip and stave — those old and pleasant strains, in which our language is so rich — liad all but ceased to drop from unknown pens. A scrap of dolorous verse on ' civil war,' a chant on the ' recovery of the throne,' and a political tract in rhyme on our 'commercial policy,' are nearly all that English thought and humour gave the world in thirty years. Nor was the country richer in respect of prose. Walsingham was gone. Capgrave, Elm- liam, Ottcrborne, were gone. The muse of history, driven from her cloister at St. Albans, had to seek asylum in a city ward. liobert Fabyan, of tlie Drapers' company, an aldeiman of Farringdon- CHAP. I. — AFTER THE ROSES. 1487-8. 121 without, was chief of those who chronicled events in prose. He kept a ledger of events, in which he noted, as of equal mark, the fighting of a battle, and the selling of a cask of fish. 7. Not a single work on mathematics, not a single work on astronomy, saw the light in England in this troubled time. John Kous of Warwick feebly represented antiquarian study. Lyttleton and Fortesque, the early lights of English law, were dead, and no one had presumed to hold the torch of law. Two peers, indeed, had graced this period by their genius ; Tip toft, Earl of Worcester, and Woodville, Earl of Rivers ; but the axe that was beheading England cut them down. 1 OQ CHAPTEE 11. CHURCH AND CLOISTER. 1487-8. 1. But while tlie country was a prey to fire and sword, tlie Church stood high above the wrack and waste. A state within the state, she claimed to live in virtue of an older gift and higher rule than those of ordinary men. A king was but an agent of her will ; a code was but an accent of her grace. She claimed a power to bind and loose at pleasure ; nay, a power to make a wrong thing right, a right thing wrong, by simple scratch of pen and press of seal. Nor were the faithful peo- ple slow to take her word. When Edward, Duke of York, had risen against the reigning prince, all men accounted him a traitor till they heard that an Italian priest whom they had never seen, whose tongue they could not speak, had granted him a dispensation from the penalties of his violated oath. As England fell, Rome rose. From year to year the pontiffs had assumed a loftier tone ; and Sixtus iised a lanfrviatrc which P]uj]fenius had not dared to hold. The Roman court had come to look on England as a patrimony of the Church. CHAP. II. — CHURCH AND CLOISTER. 1437-8. 123 2. This change of tone was but an index to the change of fact. The miseries which had weakened other classes had increased the strength of priest and monk. A people harassed and opprest will seek the nearest help, and in our civil broils this help was found at convent doors, and taken from the hands of holy men. A fugitive from battle ran into the nearest sanctuary. A hedger wanting bread would seek it at the abbey gate. A dying soldier, fainting for a drink of water, caught the cup and blessing from a monk, and thanked with dying eyes the man who had not fled from scenes of woe. A family bereaved by sudden death could look for comfort only to their priest. If any one went out to face the fury of contending troops, he was some aged abbot, who, like Father John, the abbot of St. Albans, stept into the street, with cross in hand, to stop the slaughter and protect the town. What wonder that a people, urged by fear, and worn by fasting, should have turned towards mother Church with confidence that she could feed and save them Avhen all other help was gone ? In that long night of trial she had always been in sight — a rock above the wave, a star beyond the cloud, a port within the storm. 3. Her fanes were guarded by a host of saints. A castle might be sacked and burnt, and the ad- jacent chapel left untouched. Amidst the wildest fury of the war, it had been rare for either convent, cell, or shrine, to be profaned. The shrines were 124 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 1487-8. rich in gold and precious stones, and every wastrel in the land beheved them richer than they were in fact ; yet they were safe from men whose hands were black with fire and red with blood. A shrine was shielded by the saints whose relics it contained, and in a spot like Canterbury, these saints were of the mightiest in the heavens above and in the earth below, Rozmital saw at Canter- bury a fragment of the robe of Christ ; three splinters from the crown of thorns ; a lock of Mary's hair ; a shoulder-blade of Simeon; a tooth of John the Baptist ; blood of John the Evangelist and Thomas the Apostle ; bones of James and Philip ; part of the cross of Peter and Andrew ; tooth and finger of the proto-martyr Stephen ; hair of Mary Magdalene ; a lip of one of the innocents slain by Herod the Great ; and heaps of minor relics, such as a head of Thomas a Becket, a leg of St. George, the bowels of St. Lawrence, a finger of St. Urban, a tooth of St. Benedict, bones of St. Clement, bones of St. Vincent, bones of Catherine the Virgin, a leg of Mildred the Virgin, and a leg of Ilecordia the Virgin. That the saints were present near their shrines was proved by miracles. Bozmital saw a fountain in the cloister brimming with a fluid which was sometimes water, sometimes milk, and some- times blood. Five times the water had been changed to blood, and just before Ilozmital's visit to the cell, it had l)een changed to milk. A lay- man while engaged in holy things was under care CHAP. II. — CHURCH AND CLOISTER. 1487-8. 125 of these all-potent saints. When every road in Kent and Norfolk was beset by roving bands, a pilgrim wending to the chapel of St. Thomas of Can- terbury, to the altar of Our Lady of Walsingham, might trudge along in peace. A rogue who stript the hedges would have doffed his cap to one who was returning from Our Lady's shrine. 4. Wliile every other corporation in the land was losing ground, the clerical body had been gaining ground. As duke and baron fell on tented field and prison block, the abbot waxed in riches, and the prelate rose in power. A prelate was a man of peace, who seldom took a side so long as there were actual sides to choose. His precept was obedience to the power ordained of God, and in his spiritual eyes success was God. All princes suited him. Hence, every year of civil strife had seen more bishops at the council-board, more abbots in the ante-room, and more confessors in the privy-chamber. Every year had found more legates going to and fro, and higher pomp and glory in the service at St. Paul's. More cardinals had come to London ; more ambassadors had been sent to Home. More foreign monks had been employed in offices of trust ; more papal ' nephews ' had been stalled and mitred in the English Church. An abbot, through the right of sanctuary, might easily become the host of kings and queens. All parties had to seek the Church and make that Church their friend and judge. A king might offer terms ; but a pretender 126 BOOK III. — EXGLAXD. 1487-8. had to take her at a price. The Church had some- times favoured York ; but York was Hberal, Lan- caster conservative ; and she had oftener set her face against the elder branch. Her pohcy in Spain had been her poHcy in England ; for a ruler who was weak in law would have to pay her any price she chose to ask for help. While he was yet in exile, Henry had proposed to hold his crown in fealty to the Pope ; and Kome, wliich had not often found an English prince so meek, had armed hun with her hosts and sent him forth to conquer in her name. 5. When he had won the crown, he caused his Papal title to be read in public at St. Paid's, not by a simple herald and his men in cap and tabard, but by the Lord Primate of England, with the Bishops of London, Winchester, Ely, Worcester, and Exeter, standing at his side, arrayed in full pontificals. These prelates cursed with bell, and book, and candle every one, who should presume to doubt if he who had become the King in fact was King in law and right. Thus clothed with ban and curse, he held the crown ; held it, as he conceived, of Rome and God. G. A few days after Lincoln fell at Stoke, he wrote to Innocent, his patron, some account of an event in which he traced the liand of lieaven. Some })artisanH of the House of York, who liad been moving in the city, Ik-d for sanctuary to St. Peter's, Westminster, in whicli tliey stayed till CHAP. II. — CHURCH AND CLOISTER. 1487-8. 127 news — false news — arrived in town, that Henry had been worsted in the field. Distracted by the papal ban and curse, these fugitives were in a painful plight. But one of them stood up and spoke. ' A certain John Swit,' wrote Henry, 'who was rather rash than brave, cried out, when all the rest were dumb, " What force is there in such ecclesiastical and pontifical censures ? You see that these decrees are idle, since you have before your eyes the very men w^ho hurl them at you put to rout and shame!" No sooner had he spoken than he reeled and fell ; his face becoming black as midnight, and his corpse so foul that no one dared go near it. So, most holy Father, fell this matter, which we should not write unless we knew it for a truth. We give our ample thanks to God, who in His own inefiable mercy, has given in this our realm, this great miracle for the Christian faith. We also give your Holiness our grateful thanks.' 128 CHAPTEK III. HENRY TUDOR. 1487-8. 1. Henry, King of England, and Fernando, King of Spain, were men well mated for a game of high poHtical craft. Both kings were in their early prime : Fernando thirty-five, and Henry thirty years of age ; with time in front of them, through which they conld afford to plot, and wait the harvest of their toils. Each prince was short in stature, closely knit in frame. Each wore a frank expres- sion in his eyes, and threw a coaxing tone into his voice ; yet neither let his left hand guess the object that his right was raised to strike. Each came into the levels from a poor and hilly country, and was counted as a stranger in the land he ruled. Each found a title in his sword, yet made a show of justice in the birthright of his wife. Each fought his way to rank and fame ; liut Henry, having no such helper as the beautiful and wicked queen, had won his way through greater hardships and in later years. In neither prince li;id Spain and England crowned their types. Fernando was not nuicli a Spaniard ; Henry was not much an Englishman. CHAP. III. — HENHY TUDOR. 1487. 129 In gazing at their portraits as they hang at AVind- sor side by side, a stranger to their faces miglit mistake them for each other. Henry, who was spare and sallow, had a rather Spanish face ; Fer- nando, who was sleek and rosy, had a rather English face. Ayala, the acutest judge of men whom Spain sent out to London, told his master there was nothing ' purely English ' in the English king. 2. Yet in the higher grades of character no princes could be more unlike. Beside Fernando, Henry seemed a child of nature, nay, a cliild of grace. By birth a Celt and prone to superstition from his youth, the English King believed in signs and acted on the promptings of an unseen spirit. A rose-bush growing in the Temple Gardens put out buds, which blossomed into red and white. Men ran into the grounds to see the wonder ; and a people who were sick of civil warfare blessed tliat bush, and said it was a type of peace. A red rose and a wdiite rose on a single stem must surely mean a union of the Earl of Bichmond and Eliza- beth of York. In strivinsf for his crown the Kino- obeyed a cry of nature, and expected to receive the help of heaven. No Spaniard put more trust in Santiago than the Earl of Bichmond vested in St. George. ' God will aid me,' he had cried to his companions as they sailed from Harfleur in the scantiest craft that ever ventured for a crown. Of other help there seemed no chance. But Henry VOL. I. K 130 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 14S7-8. had not paused to covin t his forces, like Fernando ■when Affonzo, King of Portugal, had crossed the frontier of his states. ' Let God, the giver of A'ictory, judge ! ' He looked upon himself as one appointed to fulfil the purposes of heaven. ' In the name of God and of St. George, advance ! ' and in the name of God and of St. George he won his crown. 3. The bards and monks who had been near him from his birth had fired him with two mystic and unselfish yearnings ; yearnings which became a part of him, and helped to govern him through life ; a passion for the legends of his native land, as sung by Cymric bards ; a passion for the cross of Christ, as monks and friars conceived the cross of Christ. By birth a Celt, and trained among a Celtic people, ,Henry had a feeling for those border bards who sang — Onr lands first Icp^ends, love and knightly deeds, And -wondrous ^Merlin and his wandering king. At Pembroke Castle and at Begar Abbey he had toyed with these Arthurian myths, which in their Cymric form present the jiicture of a happy and romantic court, and not that drama of a doting lord and guilty wife M'liicli tlic Provencal troubadours liad wrought from tliem in France. To Henry's fancy, Artliur was a light, a beacon, and a guiding star. If not an actual .saint, be was a pattern prince and perfect knight. The King regarded Artluu- CUAP. III. — HENRY TUDOR. 1487-8. 131 as the glory of a line of princes older than the Saxon times. Even more than what St. Louis was to Charles, and San Fernando was to Isabel, King- Arthur seemed to Henry. In his mythic ancestor he saw a Christian knight and national hero, who had spent his life in fighting with a foreign and idolatrous foe. To him, this warrior was the noblest hero of the British soil. In spite of history, he told Italian agents that the Order of the Garter was King Arthur's work and badge. A knowledge of this mystic side of Henry's genius is the key to many of the secrets of his life. 4. His passion for the cross was no less ardent than his passion for the legendary court. In truth, these passions fused and centred in one radiant point. King Arthur fought with paynims for the cross of Christ, and Henry set this glory of the cross before him as his own peculiar star. He was the last great prince in whom the spirit of a Templar raged. A crusade was his daily dream ; a crusade to regain the Holy Sepulchre, and hberate the host of Chris- tian slaves. To gain these ends, he strove to stir up popes and kings ; he wrote to the religious orders ; and he oftered to conduct the liberating force. He wished to measure swords with Bajazet as Richard of the Lion Heart had measured swords with Saladin. He would have risked his life, and even lost his crown, in order to regain that sacred tomb and liberate those Christian slaves. Nor was his zeal the fury of a day. It burned 132 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 1487-8. in him through many years, and only died at length in the cold prudence of an honest Pope. The Knights of Rhodes elected him Protector of their Order ; and the King of Portugal proposed that if a crusade were attempted, Henry should be marshal of the Christian troops. And even when his dream of winning back the Sepulchre was past, he clung to what had been the better part of his design, the hope of freeing Christian slaves. Unable to release them by his sword, he could and would relieve them by his purse. He set apart some por- tion of his income as a sacred fund ; which fund was yearly spent in ransoming unhappy captives from the various Moslem ports. 5. Yet Henry was as fond of money as Fer- nando. Poor and pinched in youth, he set a store on gold beyond its natural worth. He too could feed a hunger of the eye with coin. He liked to count his pieces, weigh his plate, and note the value of Ills cups and rings. He learned to prize the cup beyond the M'ine ; and yet he seldom put the weight of dross before the chaser's art. Fernando looked no higher than his personal gain ; a gain that he could see and touch ; wliile Henry, though he looked to have his groat in either meal or malt, could take some part of liis retuni in tilings unseen. Each sank a fortune in a slirine ; but Henry was an artist; and ]iis wealth was lavished witli nn eye for beauty rather than for pomp and sliow. He loved to l)uil(l a liouse, to })lant a licld, to decorate a church, lletiring from CHAP. III. — HENRY TUDOR, 1487-8. 133 his council-boards, he strayed to chat with monk and priest, and watch the progress of their favourite works. His monks were mostly artists. Father John, of Westminster, afterwards known as Abbot IsHp, copied hours and missals for the Queen, with borders twined through painted puns and happy marriages of leaves and flowers. Sir Reginald Bray was drawing plans for the King's new chapel in the abbey. Father Christopher was an architect. Poets, who were also monks and priests, enjoyed his friend- ship and received his pay. Andre held the office of his laureate and historiographer. Carmeliano, who liad now become a denizen, was his Latin secretary. Giglis was his bishop of Worcester and his minister in Rome. 6. Unlike Fernando, who was fond of war for war's own pastime, Henry was a man of peace. Unless to fight for Zion, he would never of his own free choice have drawn his sword. Though young in power, he laboured to acquire the title of a Friend of Peace ; and when his people urged him to the field, he strove to put them off with what he called a show of war ; a squeak of fife and roll of drum, in place of ghastly wounds, of ruined trade, and desolated homes. The Roman poet wrote to Innocent, ' The King is so pacific and so prudent that we have the promise of a general peace.' Another day that poet wrote, ' This prince prefers a fair peace to a just war.' Sancho de Londono summed up Henry's temper in the words, ' He is a man of 134 BOOK III. — ^ENGLAND. 1487-8. peace.' No cause less pressing than a danger to his crown and hfe could make him face the miseries of actual war. His heart was sick of strife. ' When Christ was born,' he said, 'peace was sung on earth, and when He died, peace on earth was what He left.' To him the name of a pacificator seemed a nobler heritage than that of either prince or pope. 135 CHAPTER IV. THE ENGLISH COURT. 1487-8. 1. The English court was pure ; the royal home a model of domestic peace. Three ladies who had each been chastened by her sorrows, ruled in Henry's house ; the Queen, Ehzabeth the Good ; the Queen's mother, Queen Elizabeth Woodville, widow of Ed- ward the Fourth ; the King's mother, ^largaret of Richmond, widow of the Tudor Earl from whom the King derived his Celtic blood. The Queen, a bride of twenty -one, and of surpassing beauty, was of shy and homely temper, fonder of her husband and her child than of that pomp of state, to wliich, as eldest daughter of a king, she had been born. The virtues of denial and obedience flourished on her heai;th. Elizabeth was the soul of charity. She portioned good and penniless girls. She paid the fees of novices too poor to take the veil. She liberated debtors from the London jails, and gave a decent burial to penitent rogues and thieves. She liked to keep old servants in her house, and had a sepa- rate purse for the support of orphan boys and girls. As well became a daughter of the House 136 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 14S7-8. of York, her tastes were liberal and refined. She kept her poets and reciters ; her singing men and singing boys ; her minstrels who could phiy on kite and pipe. The greeting of her bridal morn- mg was a poem from the pen of Giovanni de Giglis, her Italian laureate, whom the King rewarded for his sei-vice by a prebendary stall in York. One present she received from Henry was a book of noble verse ; the chansons of that Prince of Orleans who had sung in exile and imprisonment his passion for an absent wife. 2. Her mother. Queen Elizabeth Woodville, was the tender and poetic woman for whose lovely face Kino' Edward had incurred the wrath of Isabel. This Queen had borne her share of tragic sorrows. Gray, the husband of her youth, had perished in the field. Her boys by him had been deprived of their estates. Her union with the King, although he loved her well, had brought misfortune to them both. She had been separated from the King ; she had been forced to enter sanctuary ; she had suffered siege and stress. Her father had been put to death ; her motlier had been charged with sorcery ; her brother had been also imt to death. Slie lost her royal partner at the early age of f )rty-two ; and in that year of woe, liad taken sanctuary with her sons, liad seen the |)rinces torn from her embrace, and learnt that they were murdered in tlie Tower. Forced to <|nit licr lodgings in Westminster Abbey, she had suffered every agony of restraint until the CHAP. IV. — THE ENGLISH COURT. 1487-8. 137 victory of Bosworth set her free. Since Bosworth, she had been at court, except when she retired to Bermondsey Abbey for repose, acknowledged as Queen-Dowager, and pensioned as became her rank. 3. Lady Margaret, the King's mother, was the most commanding figure in his court. Tall, stern, and proud, she moved about the palace, where she held a lodging near her son, like some pale pro- phetess of ancient days. To her all ears were bent, and most of all her son's ; for he had proved her love, her courage, and her wisdom when his fortunes had been dark and low. Her chaplain. Father Chris- topher, was his almoner and agent. In his early days, she had directed all his movements, but since Bosworth had enthroned him, she had kept herself to the domestic side of life ; arranging for his union with Elizabeth of York, and fixing on a residence for the future Prince of Wales. She was a scholar and a friend of scholars. Fisher owed to her his first pro- motion in the Church. Caxton was indebted to her kindness. Pynson printed several works which she translated from the French. These works were books of piety ; for Lady Margaret was rapt and fired with holy zeal. She wore a shirt of hair, like Isabel. She fasted long and often, and her body seemed to waste in prayer and vigils. Learning and piety were objects of her care, and Lady Margaret's name is warmly cherished on the Isis and the Cam. 4. The Queen had four sisters, who were also in her court ; Lady Cecily of York, Lady Anne of York, 138 BOOK III.- — ENGLAND. 1487-8. Lady Catharine of York, and Lady Bridget of York. These girls were younger than herself. Lady Cecily had just been married to the King's uncle of the half-blood, John, Lord Welles. Lady Anne had been engaged to Philip, son of Max ; but tliis en- gagement had been broken off by Edward's death. Lady Catharine had been pledged to Don Juan of Aragon, and afterwards to James, a younger son of the King of Scots. Lady Bridget, who was only eight years old, preferred to lead a holy life, and took the veil at Dartford when she came of asfe. 5. When Henry found his Queen was near the time when she might hope to bear a son, he had removed her from the Tower, in which the kinofs of England had been mostly born, to Winchester, the legendary seat of Arthur ; that the future ruler might be born in Camelot, and breathe the very air from down and sea which Arthur breathed. The Queen took up her room and kept her state, according to the rules drawn up by Lady Margaret, wlio was more of a religious mystic even than her son. The infant had been chnstened Artluir, and a pair of ancient Britons stood beside the font. The King felt proud that Ar- tlnn- of Winchester was Ixnii to be a Prince of Wales. A seven months' child (like Catalina), he was small and comely, needing every care from Stephen Bere- worth, his physician, wIkj was pensioned to attend oil him. Tlie King anaiigcd his cradle so that wlien his eyes should open to receive the images of uutw.ird tilings, th'j objects to salute him first CHAP. IV. — THE ENGLISH COURT. 14S7-8. 139 should be tlie mystic dragon and the sacred leek. The King had fixed his heart on a revival of the ancient names and ancient ways. A second Arthur should renew the first, and live a perfect hero in a court of perfect knights and dames. This hero must be consecrated from his cradle, and in after years he should be sent to live among his ancient kith. A castle on the Teme should be arranged for him ; a house less wild and stern than Pem- broke ; yet a place of border name and fame. In royal and romantic state, the second Arthur was to emulate the first. 6. As yet the English people hardly knew this hero's name. Pendragon was to them an ogre, and his leek the symbol of a thief. King Arthur was a Celt, whose arms had been arrayed against their Saxon sires. At best, he was a foe whom they had crushed. The Paris press had long been scattering tales about him and his deeds ; in London, not a single legend had been printed till the year of Bosworth Field. Malory had been gathering out of French romances an account of Arthur and his knights ; that work which Eoger Ascham was in after days to scout. It is not known who this Malory was ; but from his love of these old tales it has been commonly inferred that he was Welsh. No man of Enoflish birth was likelv to have cared about a knight who fought against his fathers, till the advent of a British sovereign taught him to regard with sympathy the legends of a friendly 140 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 1487-S. and poetic race. No less than fifteen years elapsed before Malory's version could be put to press ; but while the Tudor prince was hii'ing troops in Nor- mandie, some knights and gentlemen had gone to Caxton and requested him to set Malory's book in type. The sheets were on his blocks when Rich- mond was at Harfleur ; when the victor came to London they were in the public hands. In Henry's advent, ancient prophecies appeared to be fulfilled, and some of Henry's bards affirmed that he — the wandering knight and prince — was Arthur in the livinof flesh. 141 CHAPTER V. THE SPIRITUAL POWER. 1487-8. 1. A MYSTIC and usurper, Henry felt the need of ghostly help in his affairs, and wished his country to become what she had been in olden times, an Island of the Saints. He envied France St. Louis, and desired to have a saint of his own name and blood. England had given a host of martyrs to the Church, but no one of the name of Henry ; so he begged the Popes to canonise his uncle, Henry the Sixth. St. Henry would have been a great supporter of the House of Lancaster. He also asked the Pope to grant a privilege to a tomb which Lady Margaret, his mother, was preparing for herself Outside the walls of Pome, there was a chapel of the Virgin called the Stair of Heaven. This chapel had been favoured by a line of Popes ; a prayer recited at the altar took away a load of sin ; and Henry asked the Pope to grant him patents for his mother's tomb as rich in virtue as the bulls which had been granted to the Stair of Heaven. 2. In doinPf homag^e for his crown, he told the Pope that all the kings, his predecessors on the 142 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 1437-8. throne, had rendered reverence and obedience to the reigning pontiff. Henrj was deceived. No king- had done so, even in appearance, since the days of Henry the Third ; no king had done so in reality since the days of John. A hundred times the popes had striven to make the Enghsh yield ; but neither Peers nor Commons would consent to such an act. ' I will not do it,' said the second Henry to a papal legate. ' Neither do we, nor will we, nor can we, nor ought we, to permit our lord the King to do so,' said the Parliament of Edward the First. When Urban the Fifth was seeking to revive these papal claims, tlie peers replied, ' That act of John was done without consent of the estates, and con- trary to his oath.' The commons added, ' If the Pope appeals to force, we will gainstand him to the utmost of our power.' Edward had already struck the note. ' If both the Emperor and the King of France should take the Pope's part, I am ready to give battle to them in defence of the liberties of my crown.' All England stood behind the prince who spoke these words. But after Bos- worth, England was no longer what slie had been after Crcci, and the King who ruled her was not Harry the Fifth. 3. Heniy had only reigned two years, and in his second year he liad been forced to fight for crown and life. I'he sword l)ad given, and what the sword had given the sword miglit take way. If he had failed at Stoke, he must have been a fugitive or a CHAP. V. — THE SPIRITUAL POWER. 14S7-8. 143 corpse. The S]:)anisli sovereigns had a royal nun to fear ; but Henry had a dozen rivals like that royal nun. The Perfect Prince being dead, Fer- nando s title to the crown of Aragon was free from doubt, and if the exiled Queen could ever be induced to take the veil at Santa Clara, Isabel's title in Cas- tille would stand beyond tlie reach of doubt. But no removal of a prince and princess here or there from Henry's path would make the English ruler's title good in law. 4. He traced his lineage back to John of Gaunt ; but every step in his descent gave way beneath his weight. A doubt had long ago been raised about the birth of John of Gaunt ; his mother, Philippa, having told her priest that she had changed a girl for him at birth. John's elder brother, Lionel, had issue still alive ; the princes of the House of York. So long as any of these princes lived, the King could have no legal right to reign. Nor were these ob- stacles the whole. John Beaufort, son of John of Gaunt, was basely born, and though a papal brief had made him pure of blood, a papal brief could not create for him a right denied by English law. When Henry the Fourth confirmed that papal brief, he carefully denied this house of Beaufort's claim upon the crown. In Pichard's days this bastardy and this exclusion of the line of Beaufort had been openly proclaimed. If even these great obstacles had been removed, the King would still have had no lawful claim. His mother would have been the 144 BOOK III. — ENGLAXD. 1487-8. Queen, and he no other than a Prince of Wales. On every side his title failed. The house of Lancaster was a younger branch ; and he was not the head of even that younger branch. So conscious was the Kinof of these defects of title, that he made no reference to his bii'th and lineage in the act of settlement. ' The crown shall be, rest, remain, and abide,' in Henry and his heirs at law, — so runs this famous act. No pedigree is cited ; he is king in right of war ; and will be king while he can hold his seat. The law was silent ; for his sword had set aside the law. His only title, other than the sword, was that derived from Rome. 5. Having laid his crown before the Pope, the King had placed his highest offices in clerical hands. His foremost ministers were Primate Morton and Bishop Fox. John Morton was Archbishop of Can- terbury, Lord Chancellor, and first minister of the crown. Richard Fox was Bishop of Exeter, privy councillor, Lord Privy Seal, and second minister of the crown. Their power was only shared by monks and priests who hung about tlie royal closet, and were sometimes asked to give advice ; such men as Father Christoplier, the royal almoner. Prior John of Clerkenwell and Rhodes, William Smith, Arch- deacon of Surrey, and Thomas Savage, priest and doctoi" of tlie canon law. The primate, Morton, was the greatest ]>luralist alive. This man liad been appointed viear ol" Blowvorth, sub-dean of Lincoln, prebendary of Sali.sljury, principal of Peck- CHAP. V. THE SPIRITUAL POWER. 1487-8. 145 water Inn, prebendary of Lincoln, privy councillor, Chancellor of the Duchy of Cornwall, Master of the Rolls, rector of St. Dunstan's in the East, prebendary of St. Paul's, archdeacon of Huntingdon, prebendary of Wells, prebendary of York, archdeacon of Berk- shire, archdeacon of Leicester, bishop of Ely, Lord Chancellor of England, and archbishop of Canter- bury. Some of these rich offices had been yielded out of shame — not many of them — and the grasping prelate was not yet content. He hungered for a cardinal's hat, and Henry was beseeching Rome to gratify his servant's pride. The primate was a stout supporter of the Holy See. 6. One other step the Church had gained. For close upon four hundred years, the Church had claimed a place outside the statute-book. A court for clerks, in which the bishop was to sit as judge, had been created by the Conqueror as the price of clerical support against the people and their laws. This court had been resisted and renewed from reign to reign : — the people asking to be judged according to theii' native laws ; the clergy wishing to condemn them by a foreign code. A man like Arundel might sweep both prince and judge along with liim by force of will. But priests like Arundel had set the country in a blaze. To see a man licked up in fire for saying that he could not under- stand how bread was actual flesh and wine was actual blood, drove many wild with rage. A secular judge could hardly help some pity towards a prisoner of VOL. I. . L 146 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 1487-8. the Church ; and when that prisoner came before him, by attorney, he would grant his habeas corjyus, have the man brought up, peruse the warrants and the pleas, and if he found him wrongly seized, dis- charge him on the spot. A judge could only go upon the statute-book. This claim of bishops and their ordinaries to be the sole intei'preters of law for clerks, had never been admitted by the crown. A case is given by Coke. The crown referred this question to the bench ; the bench reported that the law could only be interpreted by the ordinary courts. A civil court could scan the sentence of a spiritual court ; a common judge reverse the sentence of a clerical judge. Such acts had always pleased the English people, whether gentry in the shh'es, or craftsmen in the towns ; for people liked to know that rich and poor, that clerk and layman, had the benefit and protection of his English law. 7. But if the clergy could not gain their point, they never ceased to urge their plea. At every change of dynasty they tried to make their terms. When Bolingbroke murdered Richard and usurped his throne, they had procured the act for burning here- tics. When York defeated Henry the Sixth, they had obtained a charter giving them immunity from the charge of civil courts. When Ilichmond struck down itichard, tliey luul asked to have that charter strengthened by an Act of Parliament. Being masters in the closet, in the council, in the upper liouse, and being backed l)y Henry as their part- CHAP. V. — THE SPIRITUAL POWER. 1487-8. 147 ner, they had passed their bill ; a hill which had conferred on bishops and their ordinaries that power beyond the law which they had always claimed and sometimes won ; a power to seize suspected clerks, to lock them under ward, and hold them in restraint. All rio-ht to scan their acts was done away. A clerk arrested by his bishop was with- out appeal. All pleas of wrongful verdict were annulled ; redress for false imprisonment was de- nied. For every man who could be called a clerk — the bishops and their ordinaries being the judges as to who was properly a clerk — the guarantees of English law were SAvept away. The King and kingdom were committed to the Church ; com- mitted to her teaching, her pretensions, and her fortunes. Each enjoyed the gain and bore the bur- then of this close connexion with the Papal court ; for if the King was mighty in the strength of Rome, his realm was feeble with the feebleness of cardinal and pope. 148 CHAPTER VI. rUEBLA IN LONDON. 1487-8. . 1. While he was waiting in Coruna for a ship to carry him across the sea, two EngUsh barks arrived in port. As Spain had signed no treaty with the Eno-Ush crown, these barks were held to be fair prize, and Pedro de Segura, captain of a Spanish ship of war, compelled these barks to strike their flag. The canon saw this act of piracy with his own eyes ; and though some forty ships were lying in the harbour, not a hand was raised to check Segura's deed. All articles of peace, the Spaniards of Coruna said, were held to die with those who signed them. If the English wanted peace and trade, anotlicr treaty must be drawn and signed; and Pueb)*i crossed the sea to study how that treaty could be x, irned to good account. 2. For weeks he had to labour in the dark. When he arrived in London, every one was busy Avitli the young Queen's coronation, wliich the King had ordered after tlie events at Stoke. lie had to CHAP. VI. — PUEBLA IN LONDON. 1487-8. 149 see his traders, to collect his facts, and learn to tread on English ground. By choice, he lived in slums and taverns ; herding with the poor, and even Avith the vile ; and selling all tlie favour he could win. His habit of consort! ntr with the low and profligate never left him, even when he might have lived in mansions in the Strand and kept a barge and boatmen on the Thames. A mason took him in, and lodged him in his house at twopence a day for bed and board. This mason kept a small and dirty inn ; a house of call for shameless women and apprentice lads ; and Puebla, canonist and cripple, took his seat at table with these dollies and their mates. But though he lodged in cheap and nasty dens, of which the rough and ready skippers of Bilbao were heartily ashamed, his cloth enabled him to seek those monks and priests who formed an innermost circle round the King. 3. Of those who held no secular ofiice, yet were always heard and oftentimes employed on public business, Father Christopher stood the first. This father had been near the sovereign from his boyish days ; he was his mother's chaplain and confessor; and his own most constant friend. When Henry lodged at Begar Abbey, Father Christopher was always flitting from the mother to her son. They had no secrets from him. To his faithful hands Avas given that message from Elizabeth of York wdiich led to union of the red rose and the white. He followed Henry to the palace, where a lodging had been found 150 BOOK III. ENGLAND. 1487-S. fur him. The highest offices lay within his reach, but he would only take such posts as* left him near the King ; the place of almoner, the rectory of Hackney, and a prebendary stall in London. As the royal almoner, and as Lady Margaret's con- fessor, he had greater power to make and mar than any other priest. Beside this Father stood John Weston, Knight and Prior of St. John in Clerkenwell. This knio-ht was called the Prior of St. John of England, and in virtue of his rank was premier baron of the English ^ Parliament. He was a link between the west and east. No man could tell so soon as he what Bajazet was doing in the Grecian waters and the Holy City. He inspired the King with a crusading spirit, and supplied a channel of communication with the Grand Master in Rhodes. Of hiiiher reach than tliese advisers of the King was Thomas Savage, doctor of the canon law ; a man of learning and ability, and silent as the grave itself On every point of law, the King consulted Savage, and in matters needing special secresy the silent doctor was em- ployed. 4. At first tlic Spaniard spoke of peace and trade between the states, and only liinted at a plan for giving aid and comfort to each other in tlie day of need. As Ileury's ministers were alive to the atl\;iiit;iges of peace and trade, they listened tt) his talus in hope that good might come of them. Since Boswoi-tli ncitlicr peace nor trade had boon secure CHAP. VI. — PUEBLA IN LONDON. 1427-8. 151 with Spain. A league of peace would stop sucli acts as those of Pedro de Segura, and might bring a profit- able fleet into the western ports. The Spaniards wanted corn and cloth ; the English wanted wine and oil ; and most of all they wanted Bordeaux wine. An act had just been passed forbidding any other than an English ship to bring this wine to England, save on special license granted by the King himself. To favour an exchange of what his people had in plenty for the things they needed — corn for wine, cloth for oil, and tin for soap — the King was granting letters somewhat freely to the Bilboa merchants then in Cheape. Nor was the King averse to framing articles of peace. The country needed peace, even more than she was willing to confess. He, there- fore, on the Spanish case being put before him, named the Prior of St. John, Father Christopher, and Thomas Savage, his commissioners, to settle matters in dispute between the crowns of Spain and England, and confer with Puebla on articles of mutual aid and comfort to be given on either side in case of war. 5. On hearing how his agent sped, and careless how and where that agent lived, Fernando sent a letter properly conceived, appointing Puebla his ambassador at the English court, with full authority to treat of peace and to conclude a match. When sending out these powers, he also sent a spy, one Juan de Sepulveda, knight and trooper, to observe the cripple and report to him how things went on. The canon and the trooper were to pusli the treaty 152 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 1487-8. rather than the match. Their object was to draw the Enghsh into war with France. While Max was pounding in the north, Fernando wished the Enghsh to be thundering at the gates of Brest. If that desisfn could be achieved without coininittino; him to give the English prince his daughter Catalina, he preferred to leave his daughter free. 1.j:3 CHAPTER VII. FIRST PROPOSALS. 1488. 1. Though Henry was annoyed to see a name- less cripple sent to him instead of bishop, count, or councillor of state, he still received the Spanish agent with his winsome smile. ' They do not know me yet in Spain,' he said to those about him, with the spirit of a man who means that they shall know him. Keeping Puebla at his side, as though he were a friend like Father Christopher and Prior John, the King observed him in and out. Ill bred, ill fed, ill dressed, the King soon learned to read the man he had to deal with, and he took good care to feed his hunger and indulge his love of praise. He asked the agent to his palace ; when he came to court, the King invited him to stay and dine. A dinner at the royal table suited Puebla's taste far better than a penny mess with drabs and prentice boys. He came so often that the pages laughed, and Henry, quaint of humour, sometimes joined these pages in their sport. ' Look you, my masters,' cried the King, as Puebla hobbled up an avenue, 'here is the Spanish ambassador — what does he 154 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 14S7-8. want V At once the merry voices rang, ' To eat ; he wants to eat 1 ' The Kmg took care that he should have his fill. He lodged his servants in a convent, and the bursar was instructed not to charge him for their food. When dining at the court, he sometimes asked, on leaving, for a loaf of bread and jug of wine for supper ; and having got these damties from a servant, carried them away beneath his cloak. One day, when Lady Margaret heard him begging this and that, she asked him if the King and Queen of Spain could not afford their minister meat and drink ? 2. But Henry held his course of favour to the cripple ; glad to find that for a royal smile, a loaf of bread, and now and then a pardon or a license, he could buy Fernando's agent; nay, convert him, as the Spanish traders said, into a minister of his own affairs. To put some coin into that agents purse he granted him a license for a merchant, Juan de Scover, to import two hundred tuns of claret free of charge. To tickle his conceit, and raise his credit in the pool, he called him in the license his * beloved Doctor de Puebla.' Wliat- ever they might tliink of him as priest and man, the Spanish traders from Bilbao and Seville soon had solid proof that this ungainly priest could serve them at the English court. ;3. For Henry saw his gain in such a match, and even such a ])eace, as Spain proposed to him. He had become aware that even in the face of CHAP. VII. FIRST PROPOSALS. U88. 155 Isabel's dislike to Edward, articles of peace and trade had been arranged in 1481, which were to be in force ten years. Those years had not expired ; and Henry held that while those articles were in force, the seizure of a ship with English goods on board was piracy. A case had just arisen. A Spanish ship, the San Stephano, sailed from Bristol for a port of Spain. When she arrived, one Martin de Miranda, who had letters of marque in his possession, got her seized by the provincial governor, and held to ransom for two thousand crowns of gold. A cry arose in Bristol, where the goods were owned ; and Henry wrote an angry letter to the King and Queen of Spain. But there were doubts about his case, since many of the Spaniards held that with tlie change of dynasty those articles of peace had lapsed. 4. Nor were these trading interests all. In many ways it might be well for Henry to be sure that Spain was at his back. As two usurping kings, supporting and supported by the Church, Fernando and himself had common enemies in the liberal ranks. As yet, this name of Liberal was not used in English speech. The odious word was Lay. ' Lay-men ' and ' Bible-men ' were Bishop Pecock's terms of menace and reproach ; by which he stigma- tized those Wycliffites and Lollards who desired to read the Scriptures and uphold the English law. A century later ShakesjDeare caught the word in a transition stage. Lord Say, in speaking of the state of England in the days of Cade, describes the 15G BOOK III. ENGLAND. 1487-8. men of* Kent as 'liberal, valiant, active, wealthy.' Say had been a Liberal, for he founded schools and setup presses. Many of the King's opponents were suspected of a liberal mood, and if the Inquisition had been introduced from Seville into Canterbiuy many of these enemies might have perished in the flames in- stead of on the block. John Swit was not alone in laughing at the thunders as they rolled from Rome. Though many of the people were extremely pious, many were disposed to smile at such impostures as the winking saints and pools of milk and blood. Some people put no trust in saints ; some passed an image with an unbent knee ; some mocked the wandering friars ; some trolled their staves and cracked their jests against the parish priest. Some people spurned the temporal verdicts of the Holy See. In most affairs of conscience they were with those Bible-men whom Bishop Pecock had denounced as lost for say- ing — that Scripture is the only rule of life ; that every man should read and judge ; that those who live a goodly life may hope to understand the word ; that image-worship is idolatry ; that pilgrimages have no merit ; that the Church should own no property in ];md ; tliat calling on the saints for help is useless; that the monkish brotherhoods are vicious ; and that laws decreed by papal and prelatical authority are mil] nnd void. These scorners of the bishop and the pontirt' made the strength and glory of the House of York, and hence the court of Home was swift to put thcni under ban and curse. CHAP. VII. — FIRST PROPOSALS. 148S. 157 5. A singular event beyond the straits induced the King to draw near Spain. King Max had so incensed the popular party that a mob had hustled him in the streets of Bruges, arrested him in a shop, and borne him to a lonely tower, where the Last of the Kitters was kept a prisoner, while his councillors were spiked and headed in the market-place below. All Europe shook with rage and merriment at his mishaps. Kunz von der Rosen, the imperial Fool, had tried to swim across the moat to him. A flock of swans and geese had set on Kunz and driven him back in rage and pain. The burghers were as savage with the King as geese and swans had been with the imperial fool. Before they let him go, they raised a scaffold in the market-place ; they made him mount that scaffold with a paper in his hand ; they made him read that paper ; and they made him swear on. his salvation to observe the terms laid down. He w^as to yield the government of his son to them ; he was to keep the peace to- wards France ; he was to recognize the liberal rule in Bruges and Ghent ; he was to separate the duchy from the empire, and to send liis German troops across the Rhine. Ashamed and angry. Max had gone mto tlie Tyrol, while the Emperor, his father, broke into the duchy with a great array. All kings and dukes were called upon for aid, and some who owed the man no love were angry at the insult offered to a prince of his exalted rank. Even Henry melted towards a fugitive who still refused to recog- 158 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 1437-8. nize him as a reigning king. The Kaiser, though he broke his son's most sacred pledges, could not batter down the walls of Ghent, and when he turned away in rage, no king in Europe felt his person safe from outrage. If an insult could be offered to a King of Kome, what might not happen to a sovereign less august ? 6. To tickle and delight the canon, Henry named as his commissioners a famous prelate and a still more famous peer ; Richard Fox, privy councillor, King's secretary, and Bishop of Exeter ; Giles, Lord Daubeney, privy councillor, and Heutenant of the fort and town of Calais. The provincial mayor, whom Henry never treated otherwise than as a great ecclesiastic, was beside himself with joy. The King invited him and his companion down to Sheen, pre- sented them to his consort, carried them to his nursery, and let them gaze in wonder at his infant son. 7. They saw Prince Arthur in his cot asleep ; they saw him naked in his bath ; they saw him in his royal robes and state. In every form they liked the round and rosy child. ' We find in him,' they wrote to Catharine's parents, ' so many excellent qualities as no one would believe.' But they were still more taken by tlie Queen and her attending maids : the young and lovely queen, now twenty-two years old, being served * by two-and-thirty ladies, each of whom is ol' angcHc l)cauty.' llciiiy wished the Sj)a,iHards to inform tlie King and Queen, their lord and lady. CHAP. VII. — FIRST PROPOSALS. 1488. 159 that if the match went forward, he should like the Princess CataHna to be sent, to England early, as Archduchess Marguerite of Austria had been sent to France. It would be well for Catalina to acquire some use of French, the language of his court and household, in her youth, as well as get accustomed to the island mist and rain. It would, be wise, he added afterwards, if the Princess were allowed to drink some wine. The Spanish agent was already Henry's man. IGO CHAPTER VIII. ARTICLES OF MARRIAGE. 1488. 1. Although an advocate for the Spanish mar- riage, Fox would willingly have dropt all question of a league. A match would give him peace with Spain and with the friends of Spain. A match would check such corsairs as Segura and Miranda, and would open Cadiz and Coruiia to the outer trade. Beyond these points he had no boon to ask from Spain. All thought of war was absent from his mind. His countrymen were restless, and would shout for war on anybody's call ; but Fox was well aware how much his country needed rest. In twenty years they might be strong again ; but even those who burned to win new Crecies in the plains of France, could see that they must first endure some years <»f peaceful growth. * There is no need to talk about the treaty ; let us go at once upon the match,' he said, as soon as tlie connnissioners met. The Spanish priest was taken by surprise. His orders were t(j juish tlie treaty and postpone the match; and Fox proposed to j)usli the marriage and post- pone the league. As liis ecclesiiistical superior, Fox CHAP. VIII. ARTICLES OF MARRIAGE. 1488. IGl had some advantage in the contest over Puebla. After praising heartily the King and Queen of Spain, lie came abruptly on his point : ' What sum will the Infanta have V 2. ' It would be seemly/ answered Puebla, ' if you were to name the fortune you expect.' Fox named a sum so large that Puebla started to his feet. ' We must refer this matter to our masters/ he observed in wonder. 'No/ said Fox, 'that course will never do ; the King and Queen of Spain will not con- sent.' 'You ask for things beyond the scope of reason/ answered Puebla, losing temper ; ' if one only bears in mind what happens every day to English kings, it is surprising that our royal masters should consent to give their daughter to the Prince of Wales.' These words were hardly out of Puebla's mouth before he felt that he had gone too far. The stately prelate and the dashing soldier were not men whom he could flout in that Castillian style. 3. Fox brought the Spaniards to their senses by a hint that Enrique the Liberal had offered to give his daughter (now the royal ' Nun'), to an English prince— who was not even Prince of Wales — together with a dowry of two hundred thouband ducats. Fox was satisfied with throwing out this hint. He wished the Spanish agents to perceive how well he knew the state of things ; how much the Exile weighed in any bargain to be made with Spain. Fox had no thought of starting her as a pretender, but he kept the fact of her existence in VOL. I. M 162 BOOK III. ENGLAND. 1487-8. his mind. If Puebla had replied by asking where that English prince now was, he might have heard some hint, far off, and yet too near, about the Perfect Prince. He felt it would be wiser to withdraw his speech. He had to recollect that though the Enghsh King might be defeated in a year or so, he could immediately despatch an army into France. 4. ' It was a jest,' said Puebla, harking back. In his report to Spain, he boasted of his skill in fence. He let the English know, he said, the state of things, but in a form so courteous that they could not take alarm. His hint was fruitful in results ; ' the English lowered theii' terms one-third.' The sum required ■ by Fox was still too high. ' Since there is time enough to think of details,' Puebla urged, ' let us refer this point to umpires ; two or four, as you shall judge.' ' No, no,' the English councillor said ; * that course will never do. We are the umpires. If we cannot settle the amount, no other persons can.' They felt that he was right. * Then name your price at once,' said Puebla. Fox set down his price ; two hundred thousand crowns. The Spaniards offered liira a lumdred tliousand crowns. 'Why should your masters not be liberal?' asked tlie Biaho]) ; 'they will not liave to pay the money ; tliey will raise it from their subjects ; why this haggling over wliat will cost them nothing ?' From a drawer he took some marriage treaties ; Scottish treaties, French treaties, Flemish treaties ; and in every one he showed them that CHAP. VITI. — ARTICLES OF MARRIAGE. 1488. 1G3 a larger dowry had been paid. The country was a dear one, he insisted, and an English penny was as much as thirty-two Spanish maravedies. People spent vast sums in keeping house. An English duke was rich. When Catharme came to London she would have a third part of the revenues of Chester, Wales, and Cornwall for her separate use ; not less in all than eighty thousand crowns of gold a-year. The county, principahty, and duchy had some thirty thousand vassals ; hundreds of villages and castles, many forts and harbours, and a few con- siderable towns. All these would be her own. 5. Fox held his point ; two hundred thousand crowns ; if less were offered him, be had no more to say. At length, the Spaniards yielded. ' Here/ said Fox and Daubeney, ' is a memorandum of agree- ment — sign it.' Richard^ Bishop of Exeter, and Daubeney of Dau- beney, in their quality of Commissioners of Henry the Seventh, declare to Rodrigo de Puehla and Juan de Sepidveda, ambassadors of Fernando and Isabel, that the dowry of the Princess Catharine is expected to be two hundred thousand gold crowns, each crown ivorth fifty English pence. ' Add one word more,' said Puebla, ' that we only sign in order to consult our masters.' Puebla's words were added to the clause, and then the Spaniards signed. 164 CHAPTER IX. ARTICLES OF PEACE. 1488. 1. Next came the articles of peace. The case was ticklish, hardly less so in respect of Portugal than in respect of France. The King of Portugal could scarcely be omitted from a treaty which engaged the Kings of Spain and England to regard each other's friends as friends, each other's foes as foes, since Spain, on no accomit whatever could expose herself to risk of quarrel- ling with John the Perfect, while the Excellenta was alive and in his power. Yet Puebla saw that John would be exasperated by the treaty, let it take what name and shape it might. A treaty with the English monarch would diminish John's authority in the councils of Castille. It was a blow at France, and Jolm's importance in Castille was measured by his means of stirring up the French. The English, too, had something to reserve. Their friendship for the Portuguese was one of ancient date. They could not lightly cast away old friends, nor would they treat the Portuguese as friends and foes to suit Fernando's politics. In everything that touched the CHAP. IX. — ARTICLES OF PEACE, 1488. 165 Exile, Fox and Daubeney wished to keep their hands unbound. If Spain should go to war with Portugal, they meant to hold a neutral course. Beyond this point they would not move. ' It is sufficient,' Puebla WTote to his employers, ' better even than if more had been obtained. The friendship of both countries may be so secured. It will be wise to say no more about it. If the King of Portugal were to hear of what is going on, he would be -wild with rage.' But neither Fox nor Daubeney would give this clause about the Portuguese in writing, as a portion of the articles of peace. 2. More delicate still was the affair of France ; for Henry was at peace with Charles, and had no motive, like Fernando, to engage in war. No state in Europe showed so wonderful a power of grow^th as France. The land of wine, of oil, of silk, of corn, no folly in her rulers, no misfortune of her armies, could depress her long. Not more than fifty years had passed since English dukes had reigned in Paris ; yet withm these fifty years the French had entered Rouen and Bordeaux as masters ; had acquired possession of Provence ; had re-annexed the province of Bourgogne ; and got a footing in the frontier duchies of the Pyrenees. What they had gained they kept ; and only foes who smote them as the English smote at Azincour, had ever forced them to disgorge their prey. One province of the France of Charles the Great resisted their attacks ; the sea- washed Duchy of Bretagne. But though the Breton 166 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 1487-8. folk were Celtic, and had never learnt the language of their neighbours, France had partizans among their nobles, such as Rohan and Laval, who thought it finer to be counts and dukes in Paris than in Rennes. That prize was tempting to a king of France ; as tempting as Granada to a king of Spain, as Scot- land to a king of England ; for a province that would round off France by sea, and give her all the ports from Bayonne to Boulogne, might make her mistress of the narrow seas, enable her to strike the^ Spanish trade, and give her what she had been striving to obtain — a virtual primacy in the West. No prince in Europe liked this growing power in Paris, but Fernando liked it least of all. On every side the French were knocking at his gates ; disput- ing the possession of his duchies, stirring up his kinsfolk in Navarre, intriguing with the royal Nun, exciting the nobility of Naples to dispute his rights. Of all these burning questions, that of Bossillon and Cerdana touched him nearest to the quick. For five-and-twenty years, since they were pledged to France for crushing the republicans of Cataluiia, these two districts had been subjects of dispute between the crowns ; each party to the bargain striving to deceive and cheat the other; France to keep the duchies in defiance of lier ])ledgc, and Spain to get them back witlioTit tlic payment of her debt. The tract had been restored, invaded, and reduced by turns. No Frcnclnnan, looking: at tlic ridire of mountain as his natural frontier and defence, could CHAP. IX. — ARTICLES OF PEACE. 1488. 1G7 bear the thouglit of yielding up a fort like Salsas and a town like Perpignan into his adversary's power. Salsas was the key of Languedoc. Perpignan was a Calais in the south ; an open gate by which an active foe could push* his legions into France. The people, Catalan by race and speech, were ardently attached to Cataluna. Charles was only master in his actual camp ; but while he held a sword, and while the royal Nun maintained her right, he was not likely to relax his grip on these important border lands. 3. To Henry, too, this growth was matter for regret and fear, though French support had helped him to obtain his crown. What France had done for him she might be tempted to repeat for others after him. Yet he was slow to cause her just offence, and loth to think of goading her to war. * My orders are,' said Puebla, ' to msert an article in the treaty binding either party to wage war on France when France makes war upon the other.' What he wanted was a mutual guarantee. ' Why name the Kmg of France at all?' asked Fox; 'when marriages and treaties are concluded, other things come after. England will be glad to act with Spain, especially as English friendship for Spain is of old standing.' ' If the friendship is so great,' said Puebla, ' it is easy to do what is now asked.' If Puebla gave a true report of this important con- ference, Fox replied, 'It is not well to put such things in writing; first, because a treaty signed and sealed remains, and nothing should be signed 168 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 1487-9. and sealed but what is just ; next, because the in- sertion of such an article is unusual ; and, third, because the balance of advantages will He with Spain.' Fox and Daubeney had consulted jurists who re- plied, that the insertion 6f a clause engaging Henry to make war on Charles was contrary to conscience, honesty, and God. ' I showed them,' Puebla wrote, ' from books, that both by canon law and civil law, it was according to conscience, honesty, and God, that Enofland should make war on France.' The Spaniard said the French had robbed their neigh- bours north and south ; had stolen Guienne and Normandie from the King of England, just as they had stolen Rossillon and Cerdana from the King of Spain. ' It is notorious,' answered Fox and Daubeney, ' that the King of England is indebted to the King of France for many services, and it would not be honest to insert an article against him.' So the article about the King of France was laid aside. 4. The articles were drafted into form and signed. Prince Arthur was to marry Princess Catharine when he came of age ; the dowry was to be two hun- dred thousand crowns ; one half the money was to be paid on landing, a second on the bridal day. All S|)aniards then in England were to be security for this sum. Fernando was to send the princess over, in a decent manner, at his own ex- pense. Her parents were to give her dress and jewels suitable to her rank. She was to own all property that came to her in vu'tue of her bu'th. CHAP. IX. — ARTICLES OF PEACE. 1488. 1 G9 All articles of peace and commerce were to be the same as they had been for thirty years. Each party was to help the other when attacked ; the party asking the assistance to defray the cost. The rebels of one prince were not to be received by the other. If either of the high contracting parties made a treaty with another prince, his ally was to be included in the league. The commissioners were to meet again at Easter in the following year. 5. Fernando read these articles in no easy mood. He scanned the letters brought from Puebla, and he read the articles drawn up and signed. They seemed to him like papers on two different matters. * How is this ? ' he called to Sepulveda, who had carried the despatches over. Sepulveda could not tell him. ' How is this ? ' Fernando wrote to Puebla ; ' the English ask two hundred thousand crowns, because Enrique had proposed to give that fortune. Puebla must reply that Enrique had one daughter only to endow.' At most, he would con- sent to pay one hundred thousand ducats in the money of Castille. He would not hear of ducats being taken at fifty pence ; if that were in the treaty they would cheat him in the weight. Nor would he pay this money do^vn, as stipulated in the draft. He would consent to pay one half his daughter's portion when her marriage was con- summated, not a day before that time ; a second half in two years after that event was certified by officers of his own. He would not give security ; 170 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 1487-8. his word must satisfy the King. Nor would he give his daughter ornaments and plate, unless he were allowed to count them as a portion of her hundred thousand crowns. He thought it wise to say no more about the cost of sending Catharine to an English port. As to her rights in Spain, no other property could be secured to her than what she held by birth — her claim in order of succession to the throne. 6. But more than in these details of the match the English seemed to have outwitted Puebla in the articles of peace. These articles gave Fernando scarcely any of the things on which his heart was fixed. He wished to have a treaty covermg all his friends, uncovering all his foes. He hoped to isolate John the Perfect ; but the di'aft said nothing of the Portuguese. Fox would not enter into any league agamst the King of Portugal ; but Puebla had assured Fernando that the English would agree to take a neutral course. Yet, nothmg in the articles bound the English to abstam from war. More cu- rious were the articles touching France. Fernando's purpose in the treaty was to act on Paris from the line of Normandie and Maine ; but in the draft of treaty there was not a word implying that the EnLdish would attack his enemies in the rear. A show of war ' would only serve his foes. On turn- ing back to Puebla's letter, he observed a statement that the English agents, holding a mass-book in their hands, had sworn on oath, that Henry, when CHAP. IX. — ARTICLES OF PEACE. 1488. 171 the marriage was concluded, would be ready to make war against the French. Fernando wished to have that oath recorded in the draft. ' If Henry does not like/ he wrote, ' to put into the treaty all that he has promised, let the marriage treaty be concluded without it ; but cause him to sign and swear a separate treaty, he and his servants, to this effect, that, after the alliance and marriage of our children shall have been concluded, he will bind himself, if asked by us, within (a blank number of) days, to call upon the King of France to give us back our provinces of Rossillon and Cer- daiia, which he now keeps from us ; and if within (a blank number of) days after that demand the King of France has not restored to us those provinces, he will at our request make war upon the King of France.* If Henry should agree to sign this separate article Fernando said the treaty might proceed. His motive, he again repeated to his agent, was to get Kossillon and Cerdana from the French. 7. When Puebla read these orders he was much perplexed. He wished to serve two masters, and obtain from both his meed of praise and pay. ' I dare not mention some of these conditions,' he replied. He begged for time, and his arrear of pay. If time were given him, all would yet be, w^ell. Wliat need was there for haste, when the commis- sioners would not sit again till Easter in the ensuing year ? By nature Henry was averse to war ; by policy he was averse to a renewal of the fierce and 172 BOOK III. — ENGLAND. 1487-8. bloody war with France. The hope which had dis- turbed so many Kings, of wearing both the French and English crowns, was gone from him for ever. What he had to gain lay nearer home, and Henry's thoughts were given to the immediate duty in his front. He had to soothe the partisans of York. He had to reconcile the Welsh to English rule. He had to plant an EngKsh government on Irish soil. He had to manage and conciliate the Scots. These thmgs would give him unity and strength. His policy was peace at home, not war abroad ; peace, order, growth and piety, within the round and compass of his isles; not rapine, slaughter, and confusion on his neighbour's soil. What chance had Puebla of per- suading one who held this policy of peace to draw the sword? But while the cripple's words were tossmg on the seas, events were doing for him what he never could have done without their help. BEETON WAR CHAPTEH I. BRETAGNE. 1488. 1. The day on which the articles fixing Catharine's dower were signed by Puebla, Henry sent his Hail, all hail ! to Catharine's parents on their victories against the Moors. These Moors were Saracens in blood, and Henry, with his fancies kindled by the prowess of Sir Gawaine, wrote about Fernando smiting enemies of the Christian faith, as that poetic champion smote his Saracens of the South ; but having paid his compHment, he turned to other things ; the union of his states, the building of his palace, the improvement of his coinage, the repres- sion of his barons, and the settlement of his Irish towns. All details of the marriage could be left to Bishop Fox and Father Christopher. At Easter, tvhen they were to meet again, his boy woidd be 174 BOOK IV. — BRETON WiR. 1488-92. a little man — two years and seven months old. What Henry needed he had gained ; a pledge of peace by sea and land, an entry into the fraternity of reigning kings, and a return to regular course of trade. Wlien Puebla came to London, no one but the Pope and King of France had recognised the Tudor prince. That mission turned the scale ; and of the greater princes who denied his title. Max, the fugitive from Flanders, stood alone. His wisdom was to watch and wait. Some years must pass before his son would be of age to marry. If the Princess could be got to England, as the young Archduchess had been got to France, his objects would be gained. He saw how much the French were gaining from the fact of Mar- guerite being in Paris ; but he dared not press this point too soon in Spain. 2. But he was not to watch and wait in peace. Events were coming on him which he could not meet alone. He, too, was forced to look for aUies ; and in place of waiting for the Spanish princess to be flung into his lap, he had to send in search of her, thougli well aware that by this sending into Spain, he would be throwing his master suit into Fernando's hands. 3. A warlike fury had arisen among his people ; and Henry was not strong enough to ride the tem- pest and divert tlic ll:isli. On every side, his peers and citizens were raging at tlic French, for what was called their selfish dealing with the duchy of Bretagne. For Cliark's, who had been lately bat- CHAP. I. — BRETAGNE. 1488. 175 tering at the walls of Nantes, was occupying every post that he could seize, and threatening to annex the province to his crown. Of all the feudal duchies into which the Frankish kingdom had been split, the duchy of Bretagne alone retained her semi-sovereign state ; but with the growth of royal power in France, a time was coming when the duchy of Bretagne would have to follow in the wake of Normandie, Provence, and Maine. By force, if Charles could win by force, — by fraud, if he must stoop to fraud, — he was resolved on reuniting her to France. His j)retext mattered little ; yet, the pretext he had published was defensible in law ; his right as feudal lord to follow up a rebel into any part of his domain. His cousin Louis, Duke of Orleans, son of the poet, and first prince of the blood, had risen against the regent, Madame Anne, and having failed to drive her out, had fled to Bennes, where he was joyously received by Francois the Second, Duke of Bretagne, as an enemy of Charles. Duke Francois was a worn and feeble man, without a son to bear his name, and ruled by favourites and women. Orleans soon became his master. Charles had asked the Duke to send his cousin Orleans back to Paris, and on this command being disobeyed, the French had poured their troops into his wild and lonely dales. These troops had occupied some towns before the Bretons, roused to action by their imminent danger, could despatch ambassadors to Max, to Henry, and to Alain 176 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. d'Albret, begging for immediate help in ships and men. 4. Friendship for Duke Francois, who had shel- tered him in exile, urged the King of England to assist the Bretons in repelling Charles ; the more so, as a King of France who held the Breton ports, would be a dangerous foe to England in a time of war. But Charles had also been his friend, and Henry was a man of peace. He hoped that matters might be smoothed at Bennes and Paris ; for the King of France professed to have no ends in view beyond the seizure of his rebel on the Duke's estate. Charles swore he had no eye on the estate itself. If Louis could be reconciled to Charles, there seemed good reason to believe the French might turn aside. Affairs were not going well with them. If they had carried Vitrd and St. Aubin, they had failed before the walls of Nantes. A bare and hilly district, with impenetrable woods, deep rivers, and innumer- able castles, was the kind of obstacle which liinders and disgusts a soldiery like the French. Though sweeping eveiything before them m the open field, the French were tiring of a hard, inglorious task, where men were starved to death in lonely woods, and drowned in fording nameless streams. Charles spoke of peace, and begged his English ally to employ some man of trust who could arrange the terms between Duke Francois and himself 5. Father Christopher had been going to and fro ; at first in secret and alone ; but afterwards in CHAP. I. BRETAGNE. 1488. 177 public form and with a fitting train. He had been charged to see the King of France, and if he found that sovereign in pacific mood, he was to go from Nantes to Eennes and sound the ducal court. A holy man, he seemed the proper agent for a work of peace. A priest, his cloth was likely to impress the Duke ; an aged man, his beard was likely to impress the King. 6. Charles, seventeen years of age, was small in person, weak of eye, and flat of face ; a mean and .ugly lad, with head too big and neck too short, with lanky legs and crooked knees, and mind as dwarfed and twisted as his bodily frame. He had been trained to lie and cheat, as ordinary boys are taught to speak the truth and pay their honest debts. But higher learning he had none. ' He needs no grammar,' said his father, who detested books ; ' he knows enough if he has learned to hide his thoughts.' The youth had learnt this art of hiding thought, for he could fawn and yield when he was lifting up his hand to strike. A boy of seventeen years misled the aged and experienced priest; for Father Chris- topher, in all his dealings with the world, had never met a lad like Charles. 7. Having wormed from Father Christopher the secret that on finding grounds for hope he was to make for Rennes, the King took care that he shoidd find a reasonable hope. It suited Charles that Father Christopher should go to Rennes ; because he knew that Orleans would dictate the Duke's VOL. I. N 178 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. reply ; and he was certain that his cousin Orleans would not yield. The odium of rejecting terms ■would lie at Kennes ; the Enghsh monk would form a bad opinion of the ducal coiu^t ; and Henry, vexed at the rejection of his offers, would con- clude that France was acting in her lawful right. Charles told the Father he was all for peace ; he had no hidden purpose in his mind ; he loved the Duke, who was his kinsman, and the duchy, which was part of France. He only wanted Orleans to submit. At Rennes the monk had met a franker mood than in the royal camp near Nantes. What messacre had he brouo-ht ? The Duke had sent for help and not advice ; for General Brooke, not Father Christopher ; and he was vexed to find a messenger of peace had been with Charles. ' The Duke,' said Orleans, speaking for the helpless man, ' having been a kind host and parent to the English King in other days, expected from him soldiers to defend his rights, not monks to talk of articles of peace. Let Henry, if he can, forget the past. Yet in his wisdom he must see how much he has to risk in future, if this duchy is annexed, and all her harbours fall into an enemy's grasp.' Duke Francois, moping in his chau', . allowed the prince to speak, and Father Christopher quitted Rennes in rage against the ducal cause. Near Nantes, by which he passed on his re- turn, the King received liim witli a doleful face. Tlioy had not hstenod to liis w^ords of peace ! He begged tlie father to report the language lie liad CHAP. I. — BRETAGNE. 1488. 179 heard ; his ally ought to know the men with whom they had to deal. Charles wanted nothing for himself. He only asked for law and justice. Louis was his heir, and being in arms against him, could not claim protection at a vassal's court. The thing was now in Henry s hands, to deal with as his wis- dom should suggest. That Henry might be free to speak and act, said Charles, the French would raise the siege of Nantes and re-ascend the Loire, Chris- topher was enjoined to add, from Charles, that rebels would not Hsten to advice, however sound, unless the friendly argument were backed by force. That force the King of France was ready to apply, in aid of any course his English ally should propose. 8. Though wary as to phrases, Henry was no less deceived than Christopher ; for Charles with- drew his troops from Nantes and crossed his fron- tiers, so that Henry might appear to act in perfect liberty. A second embassy was therefore sent to Rennes ; a stronger tone was taken with the Duke ; and Henry was induced to pledge his word for Charles. Being pressed on every side, the Duke gave way ; a truce was made between the parties ; and the English ruler was appointed arbiter of the dispute. The King was in his glory as a friend of peace. Father Christopher came merrily back, and Henry had the happiness of countersigning articles by which the French and Bretons were to keep tlie peace for eighteen months. Thus, truce was made on every side, and Henry the Pacificator 180 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. rode to Windsor with liis Queen to spend the summer days. But he was rudely wakened from his dream. Before his ink was dry, the French were set in motion. Breaking through the Breton Hnes, they captured Ancenis, Chateaubriand, and Fougeres, and pushed their vanguard rapidly towards Bennes. Amazed by this return, the Bretons ran to meet them with a mongrel army and divided chiefs. Twelve hundred lancers sent by Max, four hundred archers under Woodville, showed themselves in front, and fought against the French like men ; but every leader in the Breton army had some separate purpose of his own to serve. DAlbret hojDcd to see Orleans captured. Orleans wished to hear that D'AIbret had been killed. The Bretons were dispersed. By help of DAlbret, Orleans was a prisoner. Rivers fell among his archers, who were cut to pieces. Bennes was occupied. Duke Francois crept into his bed and died ; and as he left no son, his duchy fell to Anne, his eldest girl. But Charles was now her master, and tlie little Duchess had to sign an article that she would never marry, save with the consent of Charles. As salt on fire, tlie news of this astounding act of treacliery and invasion feU on English towns and shires, ah-eady burning to renew the fight ; and Henry, seeing that 'a sliow of war' at least must now be made, began to arm in haste, and seek what allies he mii^ht find n