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 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<cainst the French.
 
 181 
 
 CHAPTER IT. 
 
 EMBASSY TO SPAIN. 
 
 1488-9. 
 
 1. An agent wlio could sail for Spain, procure an 
 audience of the King, and get him to adopt the 
 articles which Fox and Daubeney had signed, was 
 wanted. Father Christopher was busy with the work 
 at Rennes ; and Savage, who as priest and doctor 
 of the canon law was like an English Puebla, seemed 
 the fittest man. He was adroit and nameless. If 
 he failed, he could be disavowed. A mate was found 
 for him in Nanfan, one of the King's body-guard, an 
 English counterpart of Sepulveda. But as neither 
 Savage nor Nanfan spoke Castillian, Ruy Machado, 
 one of Henrys foreign heralds, was to help them 
 with his tongue and pen. The day they left, Nanfan, 
 riding near the King, was told to kneel, and Henry 
 laid a sword across his back. The embassies were 
 now of equal rank. A Spanish doctor and a Spanish 
 knight were balanced by an English doctor and an 
 English knight. ' They do not know me yet in 
 Spain.' 
 
 2. Puebla and Sepulveda took their leave of King 
 and Queen, and travelling to the coast with Savage, 
 Nanfan, and Machado, sailed with them for Bilbao
 
 182 BOOK IV. BRETON WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 in two SjDanish ships. They hoped to make that 
 harbour in a week ; but winter blew them into Ply- 
 mouth, where they lost ten days, and afterwards 
 into Falmouth, where they lost nine more. Their 
 vessels, squat in build, with heavy hamper and a 
 flowing sail, were rudely handled by the crews. 
 Fan" breezes set them free from Falmouth roads ; 
 but as they rolled past Ushant into the Bay of 
 Biscay, these breezes freshened into gusts and 
 squalls. All day and night they drove before the 
 gale, and in the storm they parted company. The 
 Enghsh were amused to hear the Spaniards shout- 
 ing to their saints for help. The sailors' saint was 
 San Vicente, on whose shrine they swore to light 
 innumerable dips of wax. ' By God's grace, and by 
 the prayers and pilgrimages promised to the good 
 saints, they Avere comforted and saved.' A sailor 
 sighted land ; a hill m the Asturias ; and drifting 
 up the coast, they made the port of Laredo, in Old 
 Castille. The greeting w^hich the pious English 
 heard on landing was a vesper-bell. 
 
 3. By short and early stages they ascended from 
 the sea Hne to the ridges leading into central Spain. 
 A road no better than a trail ran up through oak 
 and chestnut woods ; now climbing over rocky 
 ground, here lost in snow, there floundering into 
 ooze and swamp. Tn three days, cold and hungry, 
 they arrived in Burgos, city of the Cid. De Castro 
 took them in, and cheered them up with food and 
 wine. All three were lodging with Diego's uncle,
 
 CHAP. II. — EMBASSY TO SPAIN. 1488-9. 183 
 
 when Puebla, who had made Bilbao, came up to 
 join them. Feasts and junkets were provided by the 
 traders, who remembered Cheape and Wapping ; and 
 the men of Burgos sent them flesh of roebucks, 
 capons, conies, spices, and confectionary, with a 
 skin of wine. When the mayor and judges heard 
 of their arrival, they despatched an officer to the 
 tavern where their servants lodged, to tell the 
 host he was to make no charge. At length a 
 message from Fernando came. The King and 
 Queen were at Medina del Campo, where the Queen 
 had built a castle of defence among the ruins 
 of a Boman camp, and thither Henry's agents for 
 the peace and match were asked to ride. In spite 
 of trouble in the Pyrenees, affairs were going on 
 well. Theu' last assaults upon the Moors, delivered 
 on the eastern line, had given them Vera, Yelez 
 Blanco, Huescar, and some other towns ; and they 
 were wintering in Medina as a post from which 
 they could observe the French. 
 
 4. One mile from Burgos the ambassadors took 
 their leave of Castro, and theii' personal woes began. 
 From Burgos to Valladolid, the road ran through 
 a string of villages, with neither inn nor convent, 
 and in which the food was scant, the lodging bad, 
 the custom of the country rude. Valladolid, when 
 they came to it, was empty, for the court had 
 gone away in anger at the people having raised their 
 voice against the new and holy office, which the 
 Queen had planted in a house adjoining that in
 
 184 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 wliicli she lodofed. Savao-e and Nanfan were con- 
 ducted to a fine, but empty house, the residence 
 of Ruy de Portillo, a wealthy merchant, who 
 had been arrested on suspicion of heresy, and flung 
 into a dismal vault. The Queen . and her inqui- 
 sitors had stript his house of everything ; his chair 
 and stool, his bed and bench, his food and wine*; 
 not having left enough, as Savage found, to feed 
 a rat. Some beds and chairs were fetched from 
 magazines ; the Mayor sent in some lard and sweet- 
 meats, with a couple of skins of wine ; so that the 
 English ate and drank, and made them merry in 
 the ruined heretic's house. They were not yet aware 
 how many houses had been lately emptied in the 
 Spanish towns. 
 
 5. On drawing near Medina, they were met by 
 three processions : first, by the Bishop of Malaga, 
 Secretary Alvarez, and other gentlemen ; next, by 
 the Bishop of Palencia, the Bishop of Segovia, the 
 Grand Commander of Leon, and a train of knights 
 and priests ; and at the city gates, by the Duke de 
 Alboquerque, the Count de Haro, the Constable of 
 Castille, and hosts of bishops, counts, and knights, 
 who led thorn to their lodgings in the town. Me- 
 dina was a Moorish town, with massy walls and 
 gates, and narrow streets and houses built on granite 
 shafts, with open squares, and fountains nestling in 
 the sliade of trees. One side of the great square 
 was occupied by a pile which had been cliurcli, and 
 mosque, and churcli in turn ; a strong and gloomy
 
 CHAP. 11. — EMBASSY TO SPAIN. 1488-9. 185 
 
 pile, inscribed to Antolin, a saint of high repute in 
 Spain, although unrecognised by Eome. The Queen 
 had made this church collegiate ; had adorned the 
 angle with a belfry ; had supplied a chime of beUs, 
 with two bronze men to fling the midnight cadence 
 far and wide. On coming to their lodgings, Savage 
 saw that care was taken to impress them with the 
 wealth of Spain. Their rooms were hung with 
 tapestry, their beds were bright with coverlets, and 
 everything about was snug and warm. 
 
 6. Three days elapsed before they were received. 
 At seven o'clock at night, a crowd of officers came 
 into the square with lighted torches, to convey them 
 to the royal palace, called Castillo de la Mota, for 
 an audience of the King and Queen. This castle 
 stood a mile beyond the city wall. A wide and windy 
 plain was broken and commanded by a mount, on 
 which, in ancient times, the Romans had erected a 
 colossal camp. Vast fragments of this stronghold still 
 remained ; huge gateways, roadside temples, solid 
 towers, and far-extending walls. Among these ruins 
 Juan had commenced, and Isabel completed, a feudal 
 castle, with a tower which swept the corn-fields, 
 dusty roads, and many a distant town. The air 
 was damp, the water bad, the site unhealthy ; but 
 the Queen had found her parliament hi Toledo 
 an unpleasant neighbour, and proposed to make 
 this Castle on the Mount her ordinary home. 
 The district of Medina was the country of her 
 youth, the stronghold of her cause. Arevalo was
 
 186 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 near. Segovia, Valladolid, and Avila were the out- 
 works and defences of Medina. In the lofty turret 
 of her castle she was safe, and in the lofty turret 
 of her castle she proposed to live and die.
 
 187 
 
 CHAPTEH III. 
 
 CATHARINE PLEDGED. 
 
 1489. 
 
 1. Within this Castle of the Mount a comedy- 
 had been prepared. The Kmg and Queen were 
 dressed m cloth of gold, with puff of silk and 
 edge of fur, and belts about their waists ablaze 
 with precious stones. Mendoza, who was next 
 the Queen, and on the same seat with her, sat 
 superb in liis attire ; nor were the lords and 
 ladies in attendance far behind the King and Queen. 
 Fernando's usual dress was that of any Moorish 
 prince ; a cap, a scimitar, a breast-plate, and a 
 flowing robe ; but in this evening pageant at Medina, 
 he was decked m stiff brocade and cloth of gold. 
 The Queen, who commonly affected poor attune — 
 the gown and fillet of a nun — was richer than her 
 lord. Machado, with a herald's eye for clothes 
 and jewels, priced the dress she wore that night as 
 worth the whole of Catahna's dower — two hundred 
 thousand crowns of gold. 
 
 2. On kissing hands, the English agents made a 
 Latm speech, and then the Bishop of Ciudad Rodrigo 
 was commanded to reply in phrases which should
 
 188 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 sound polite, and yet mean nothing to tlie point. 
 Before he spoke the word, Fernando wished to learn 
 how far these agents were empowered to go. A weak 
 old man, with neither lungs nor teeth, the Bishop of 
 Ciudad Eodrigo rose, and mumbled something to the 
 guests, which Savage tried to catch, but could not. 
 When the priest had done, the English agents bowed 
 and took their leave, suspecting they had heard as 
 much as they were meant to hear ; but it was long 
 past midnight when with torch and guard they left 
 the Castle on the Mount. 
 
 3. The family at Medina were the King and 
 Queen ; Don Juan, Prince of the Asturias ; Doila 
 Isabel, Dofia Juana, Dona Maria, and that baby 
 Catalina, whom the English agents were to see. 
 Don Juan was eleven years old, a pallid and ascetic 
 boy, with sweet and j^ iffering face, and tastes which 
 rather fitted him for the trade of minstrel than for 
 that of king. Although a child, he liked to be alone, 
 to ponder over books, to sit in church and cloister, 
 and to trifle with the strings of his guitar. He 
 studied Latin, and he played on pipe and reed. His 
 tutor was Diego de Deza, secretaiy and successor 
 of the Grand Inf[uisitor of Spain. Like all the 
 members of his house, he entered a religious 
 order, wore a penitential sack beneath his silk and 
 gold, and thought no man was safe unless he wore a 
 monkish hood. His sister Isabel, the ' cliild of sin,' 
 now eighteen years of age, was frail in liealtli and 
 weak in mind. Her lungs were luirt ; her temper
 
 CHAP. III. — CATHARINE PLEDGED. 1489. 189 
 
 was desponding ; and the Queen had fears about her 
 Hfe. A girl of feeble frame, and. yet more feeble 
 will, she was the slave of a confessor who had power 
 to bind and loose, to save and damn her soul. 
 Juana, close on ten years old, was deemed the beauty 
 of her house. Her mother called her Suegra (mother- 
 in-law), from her personal resemblance to the beau- 
 tifid and wicked Queen. She was so bright and 
 quick, so fuU of flash and fire, that it was hard for 
 any one to guide her steps. Her tutor, Fray 
 Andreas, a Franciscan, had the task of curbing her 
 unruly flights ; but Fray Andi-eas found this task 
 beyond his strength. A something of her uncle, 
 Enrique the Liberal, seemed to live again in her. 
 Maria, seven years old, was yet too young for any 
 one to say what she would hve to be in after days ; 
 and Catalina was an infant three years old. 
 
 4. A second audience being arranged, the English 
 agents asked to see Don Juan and his sisters ; but 
 Fernando, who had set his spies to listen and inquire, 
 contrived to put them off" from day to day. Don 
 Juan they might see, and Doiia Isabel they might 
 see ; but for the younger children they must wait 
 awhile. At last he yielded to their earnest wish. 
 A time was fixed when they were introduced with 
 much ado, and saw the baby Catalina richly 
 dressed with seven young maidens waiting on 
 her. All the family were present. Don Juan sat 
 on the ground beside his father; Doiia Isabel 
 danced with a young Portuguese. Maria also danced.
 
 190 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 Fernando gave a biill-figlit at Medina ; fii'st, that 
 brutal sport in which the horse is ripped and gored 
 to death, and then the bull is fired and stabbed ; 
 and afterwards that Moorish game in which a troop 
 of dogs is chased in festive war. The Queen was 
 in her box, and held the baby Catalina in her 
 arms to see the horses gored and ripped, the bulls 
 tormented and despatched. Mendoza sat beside her 
 in the royal stand. * Well, it was beautiful to see 
 the Queen hold up her daughter, the Infanta Catha- 
 rine, Princess of Wales,' Machado wrote ; at which 
 time she was three years old. The fight being done, 
 the King and Queen retired into their castle, where 
 the ladies danced with knight and picador, and 
 Isabel's iron men beat out the midniglit chimes 
 before the Ensflish ao-ents marched with torch and 
 banner through the city gates. 
 
 5. Amidst those frolics of the bull-ring and the 
 dance, Fernando kept an eye on Kennes and 
 Brest, which Charles was threatening to attack. 
 Against that danger he must be prepared ; for he 
 had projects of his o\vn, as yet untold, which Charles 
 would cross if he were master of that ducliy. When 
 he learnt from spies how far the English agents 
 were empowered to yield, he signed, in presence 
 of Savage and Nanfan, that * Project of Medina del 
 Cam po,' which was dated March 28, 1489. 
 
 C). Tlie Kin ITS a^rreed tliat Artluu- Prince of 
 Wales, sliould many Catalina when he came of nge ; 
 and that the Kings of Sjiain and England should
 
 CHAP. III. — CATHARINE PLEDGED. 1489. 191 
 
 assist each other in defence of their estates. It was 
 agreed between them that if either Spain or England 
 were at war with France, the other should attack 
 the French ; and neither kingdom should con- 
 chide a separate peace, unless the King of France 
 had first restored the provinces he held. Kossillon 
 and Cerdana were noted as the Spanish provinces 
 held by France ; Guienne and Normandie were noted 
 as the English provinces held by France. If France 
 should give Kossillon and Cerdana to the Spaniards, 
 they might sign a separate peace ; if France should 
 give Guienne and Normandie to the English, they 
 might sign a separate peace. By this arrange- 
 ment of his terms Fernando thought he had out- 
 witted and deceived the English ; for if Henry and 
 Fernando were to march on France from opposite 
 points — the English landing on her coasts, the 
 Spaniards pouring through the Pyrenees — the French 
 would be compelled to buy off either one or other of 
 theu^ foes. Which would they buy ? No doubt, the 
 cheaper of the two. Fernando was this cheaper of 
 the two. To give up Perpignan and Salsas was a 
 trifle ; but to give up Pouen and Bordeaux would 
 be to mangle France. If, therefore, after two or 
 three defeats, the French should try to square 
 accounts with either, they were sure to square 
 accounts with Spain. Possillon and Cerdana cost 
 them nothino- and were not their own. Guienne 
 and Normandie were necessary parts of France. 
 Fernando thought the treaty so arranged that he
 
 192 BOOK IV, — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 could get his duchies at a trifling cost, and leave 
 his English ally to the burthen of a war. Before 
 a shot was fired, he fancied he had won his prize. 
 But he forgot that Henry, whom he hoped to 
 cheat, might have his own reserves and purposes. 
 That Prince had no intention to observe the 
 articles. He meant to use them, as Fernando 
 meant to use them, for the purpose of controlling- 
 friends and foes. The Spanish girl was only three 
 years and four months old ; her lover ten months 
 younger than herself. 
 
 7. Of this alliance Catharine was the price. 
 Fernando was to send his child to England at his own 
 expense, with store of plate and jewels, such as might 
 beseem her royal birth. One point the gamesters 
 had to leave in doubt — how far the cups and orna- 
 ments were to be treated as her property. Were 
 they to be her own — her own apart from public 
 dower, her own to hold and keep, her own to use 
 and wear ; her own to give and sell "? Savage had 
 understood they were to be so. Puebla, on the 
 other side, declared that Fox had counted them 
 as portions of the dowry, reckoning them at 
 fifty thousand crowns. No hint of sucli agreement 
 had been given to Savage. Fox was not a man 
 to overlook a sum of fifty thousand crowns, nor 
 was it like the King to take a woman's ornaments 
 in payment of a public debt. Would it be possible 
 for Catharine's cui).4 and trinkets to be taken from 
 her ? If not, how could they be inserted in the
 
 CHAP. III. — CATHARINE PLEDGED. 1489. 193 
 
 treasurer's accounts ? Unless they were received as 
 public property, they could not stand as dowry. 
 Dowry was a public matter, and a counter-part of 
 settlements on the other side. A lady who became 
 Princess of Wales in England was entitled to her 
 settlements by law ; but personal ornaments and 
 plate were not esteemed a portion of those settle- 
 ments. Fernando stood on what was called the 
 Bishop's word. As Savage could not yield, it was 
 agreed that Fox should say and swear, if such a 
 bargain had been made or not. 
 
 VOL. L
 
 194 
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 DUCHESS ANNE. 
 
 1489. 
 
 1. Ere Savage could return from Spain with 
 news that articles of peace were sealed, the English 
 King was forced to arm. He had been hoping 
 that the French, since they had taken Orleans 
 prisoner, would retire on Tours and Blois ; but week 
 was following week, and not a sign was shown 
 of their intention to retire. Instead of falling back, 
 they were advancing to the front. St. Malo fell. 
 Guincamp was occupied. Dinan was surprised. 
 Some remnants of the English volunteers were hold- 
 ing out at several points, and striving to avenge 
 their leader's death ; but they were pressed by 
 heavy odds, and calling on their countrymen for 
 help. The English garrisons in Jersey heard by 
 every boat that towns and forts were falling to 
 the Frencli. 'I'lie capital was lost, and Brest and 
 Vannes were menaced from the sea. Tiio town of 
 Nantes seemed safe ; but tliere were parties in the 
 council-room, where Alain d'Albret had a voice above 
 the power of Duchess Anne. 
 
 2. With slow and halting steps the King was
 
 CHAP, IV. — DUCHESS ANNE. 1489. 195 
 
 draoforecl alono- this road of war. At first his 'show' 
 was all ; but he was borne along the rolling tide. 
 The clergy and the nobles in his council were as hot 
 for fighting as the archers at his gate. To learn 
 what men were saying in the shires, he called a 
 Council of his realm, which Council was so strong 
 in favour of the duchy, and so ready to supply him 
 with the means of acting, that he found himself 
 constrained to move. He sent ambassadors to Max. 
 Once more, his almoner went to Paris, and was 
 welcomed with a laughing eye and l3^ing lip by 
 Charles. Recruiting agents marched through every 
 shire. A Parliament was summoned for an early 
 day ; yet Henry paused at every step, and caught 
 at every pretext for delay. He spoke to Puebla 
 in a dubious tone. He felt, he said, how much he 
 owed to France ; how many of his friends would 
 fall from him the moment he desesrted Charles ; 
 yet he would fight, if, after all his efforts, he should 
 fail to bring about a general peace. 
 
 3. When Parliament met, all doubts of what the 
 country wanted were dispelled. The country wanted 
 war, and Henry could not hold his country back. 
 Supplies were granted for the war ; a hundred 
 thousand pounds a-year ; a tax for three years next 
 to come. Some trouble rose about the share of 
 clerk and layman ; for the commons wished to lay 
 two-thirds of the amount on Church and Abbey ; 
 while the monks and prelates held that Church 
 and Abbey were not liable to the tax. At length the
 
 196 BOOK IV. BRETON WAR. 14S8-92. 
 
 several sliares were fixed ; a fourth part bj the 
 clergy and the other three parts by the laity. The 
 commons could not stand against the upper house, 
 and in that upper chamber Morton reigned supreme. 
 Some bills were passed in favour of the troops. A 
 person serving m Bretagne was to enjoy the benefit 
 of his public spirit. He could make a will without 
 a fine ; by his attorney he could plead his absence 
 as a bar to suits ; and he could claim protection 
 from the courts of law. 
 
 4. While Parliament was sitting, several knights 
 and gentlemen, Su" Richard Edgecombe of the royal 
 household with them, sailed for Morlaix. Edgecombe 
 gained the toAvn ; but all the rest fell back, and 
 spread reports through England that the French 
 were masters of the land. These stories whet the 
 English appetite for war. In no long time, ten 
 thousand men were under arms : a fleet was ridiiior 
 off the southern coast ; and every ear was listening 
 for an order to embark. 
 
 ."). Three thousand men were sent to Calais and 
 adjoining ports ; three thousand to the fleets in 
 Portsmouth and the Down ; four thousand to the 
 menaced Breton towns. As Max had not yet come 
 to terms, some companies of English marclicd from 
 Calais to assist him, and tlie world soon heard 
 what sort of war-dogs Henry held in l(\aRli. Tlie 
 Englisli phunos were always seen in front, and in 
 a desperate cliarg(% some English pikemen cut a line 
 of steel from which a regiment of Flemings had
 
 CIIAr. IV. — DUCHESS ANNE. 1489. 197 
 
 recoiled. Mareclial de Qiierdes, the Frencli com- 
 mander, stormed against these new assailants, but 
 Daubeney j)roved a stubborn foe, and by his timely 
 succour Max was able to recover St. Omers. Max 
 held his old opinion of* the English prince, wliom he 
 regarded as a rebel and assassin ; but this rebel and 
 assassin was the only man in Europe who could help 
 him to regain his towns. He signed a treaty with 
 the prosperous monarch ; hoping to renounce his 
 friendship at an early date. Imperial agents came to 
 London, which they made a centre of intrigues 
 against the French. All hearts were soon on fire. 
 Even Henry caught the martial glow ; and when, in 
 early spring, the court left London for the ports of 
 embarkation, he inspired liis army to go forward 
 and protect the youthful Duchess from the rage 
 of Charles. 
 
 G. A child with full blue eye, pink cheek, 
 and tender mouth, the Duchess was a shy and 
 pious thing, whom Era Bartolommeo might have 
 painted for a young Madonna. She was followed 
 by a host of lovers, hardly one of whom bestowed 
 a thought upon her charms of person and her 
 gifts of mind. As yet she was too 3^oung for 
 love, though writers of romantic history, like 
 Abbe Irail, fmcy she had given away her heait 
 at ten. If she had not yet learned to love, it 
 could not be for Avant of practice in that science. 
 At her cradle there were sighs and hopes ; her 
 father, being without a son. As Bretagne passed
 
 198 BOOK IV. — BEETOX WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 to female heirs, the man who married Duchess Anne 
 would be the Duke. 
 
 7. The Sire de Leon, eldest son of Viscount de 
 Hohan, was her earhest swain, and almost in her 
 cradle Anne was pledged to marry him. Heniy of 
 Kichmond, while at Begar Abbey, had bestowed his 
 thoughts on Anne : but Henry was a man in years 
 when she was nestling in her nurse's arms ; and long 
 before she reached her teens, his fortunes led him 
 to Elizabeth of York. A little later he suo^orested 
 Edward, third Duke of Buckingham and Constable 
 of England, as a fitting match for Anne, and tried 
 to make this marriage with an English subject a 
 condition of his helping to expel the French. The 
 Duke was young and winning, but the Duchess was a 
 semi-sovereign lady, and her councillors could hardly 
 be expected to consent. Another lover was the 
 Archduke, Pliilip tlie Fair, a son of Max, and heir 
 of the imperial crown ; but Philip was too young 
 to act alone, and no one thought the offer which 
 was made for him would stand. A fifth was Charles 
 d'Egmont, Duke of Gueldres, one of the many 
 paupers of imperial stock who hung about the 
 Kaiser's court. The claim of d'Egmont, who had 
 lived in Max's household, was supported by those 
 friends of Duchess Anne who looked on Pliilip as 
 a, prince bcynnd their reach. A sixth aspirant to 
 her hand was Alain D'Albret, father of Jean, 
 king-consort vi' Navarre. Ilia mother was a Bre-
 
 CHAP. IV. — DUCHESS ANNE. 1489. 199 
 
 tonne ; his lialf-sister was the Countess of Laval ; 
 and this intriguing woman was the governess of 
 Anne. Each lover had his faction in the court 
 of Kennes. De Rieux supported Leon, as the match 
 already made. Comminges took the part of D'Albret. 
 Edgecombe stood for Buckingham. Orange was 
 for Gueldres. D'Albret, who was forty-nine, had 
 eight children by a former wife, was ready to 
 settle all his lands and monies on his offspring by 
 the Duchess. Anne would never listen to his suit. 
 * A convent if you like,' she said, * but DAlbret — 
 never !' 
 
 8. Orleans had fluttered these pretenders to her 
 smiles. When Anne first saw the man who was 
 to be her second husband he was twenty -three 
 years old. If Charles should die and leave no heir, 
 Orleans would be king. That Louis fell in love with 
 Anne is not to be supposed, although as heir of 
 France he saw his great advantage in the match. He 
 thought of the advantage, not the woman ; and was 
 only eager that her husband should be kmg of 
 France. D'Albret, on finding Orleans in his way, 
 had crossed that prince at every turn, and made the 
 Duchess suffer by his passions. In the battle of St. 
 Aubin, where they should have joined their forces, 
 D'Albret would not act w4th Orleans ; and the 
 English archers had been cut to pieces through 
 the wish of these excited men to brmg each other 
 to a shameful end. When Orleans was removed by
 
 200 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 Charles, D'Albret imagined he had won his game. 
 But while these fools were plotting in their tents, 
 a still more dazzling lover came upon the scene. 
 This man was Maximilian of the golden locks and 
 condor nose.
 
 201 
 
 CHAPTER V, 
 
 anne's lovers. 
 
 1489. 
 
 1. In Max — a man of thirty, bronzed and hand- 
 some, with the light of an imperial crown about his 
 face — the courts of Europe recognised their chief. 
 He was a soldier and a student, like the princes of 
 his line ; a man of books and pictures, and a patron 
 of the singer's and the graver's art ; and yet so 
 poor he often hacji to pawn his books and sell his 
 pictures to prevent a mutiny of his troops. Like all 
 the princes of his house, he dreamt of marrying 
 duchies, provinces, and kingdoms. Marie, only child 
 of Charles the Bold, had given him Flanders 
 and Bourgogne in trustship for his son. A second 
 wife, who had a similar fortune, would be welcome ; 
 and Bretagne, though hardly to be named with Flan- 
 ders and Bourgogne, was still the amplest dower of 
 any princess then alive. A marrying man, he kept 
 an eye on every court in Europe where the males 
 were sickly, and the sceptres could descend through 
 female heirs. If Isabel of Spain had lost her son, 
 he would have wooed the ' child of sin,' oblivious of 
 his mother's passions and his cousin's \vi'ongs. She
 
 202 BOOK lY. — BRETON WAR. 1483-92. 
 
 was the eldest -born. In search of provinces to 
 marry, he was led in thought to Rennes. No sooner 
 was he heard than answered ; for a council wrang- 
 ling over such poor claims as those of D'Albret, 
 Buckingham, and Gu€ Idres, was elated at the coming 
 of a prince who could impose his will on France, and 
 raise his wife to an imperial throne. 
 
 2. Fernando tried to keep on terms with all these 
 rivals, who were fighting for his duchies in the Pyre- 
 nees as much as if they had been storming Salsas in 
 his name. In London he professed to think the most 
 of Buckingham. At Ghent and Frankfurt he was 
 happy to support the claims of Max. At Nantes, 
 which D'Albret held, his agents were instructed to 
 support the Navarrese. The shrewdest of his minis- 
 ters, Francisco de Kojas, was despatched to Bennes, 
 where he was told to watcli events, and turn tliem 
 to account in dealing with the court of Charles. 
 Fernando had a purpose of his own to serve. Of 
 all the men who had been named for Duchess 
 Anne, not one was to his mind. No EngHsh, 
 French, or Austrian husband suited Spain ; for 
 Spain liad no desire to see an English, French, or 
 Austrian f)rince at Bennes, and master of the ports 
 fnjm Nantes to Brest. Nor were the canditlates of 
 equal weight. Fernando hiokod on Leon as a fool, on 
 D'Egmont as a dupe, on Philip as a child. As yet, 
 he had not licard of Max. Buckingham was only 
 strong in Henry's grace. DAlbret was ol' greater 
 weight, from his connexion with the duchy ; but,
 
 CHAP. V. — ANNE S LOVERS. 14^9. 203 
 
 the father of Jean, King-con sort of Navarre, was in 
 the last degree obnoxious to the Spanish court. 
 D'Albret in Rennes would strengthen Jean and 
 Catharine in Pamplona, out of which Fernando had 
 a mind to drive them when his time should come. 
 No ; D'Albret must not wed the Duchess Anne. 
 
 3. The matter needed to be touched with skilful 
 hands, for Henry was a jealous prince, and England 
 had a gallant fleet at sea. Fernando opened the 
 affair by offering to suj)port the Duke of Bucking- 
 ham if Henry were inclined to press his suit ; but 
 he submitted whether Buckmgham was the fittest 
 man for Henr}^ to propose. Was not his object 
 to secure the Duchess on her throne ? If so, 
 what did he think of D'Albret ? D'Albret was a 
 Soldier of repute. The town of Nantes was in his 
 hands. Madame Laval was on his side ; De Rieux 
 was also on his side. If D'Albret and De Rieux 
 were driven into the arms of France, the duchy 
 might be lost for ever. As a friend of Anne, the 
 King should weigh these points, and let Fernando 
 know his thoughts. What they had most to fear 
 were French 'fine words.' They must beware of 
 Charles, and of his sister, Madame Anne. Let 
 every one be armed. If Henry were not ready in 
 the spring, the French would burst into the duchy 
 and surprise the forts. Let Max and Henry take 
 the field, and Spain would follow in their wake. If 
 Henry thought that Max would be a better match, 
 Fernando would support his choice. Spain simply
 
 204 BOOK IV.-;-BRETON tVAR. 1489-92. 
 
 wished to please the English prmce, and find a firm 
 support for Duchess Anne. These words were framed 
 to cloak two secret schemes. Fernando meant to let 
 his allies fight, and afterwards secure the duchy for 
 his son. 
 
 4. In spring an English force, eight thousand 
 strong, was ready to embark. Lord Willoughby de 
 Brooke was to command these troops, but their 
 confederates showed no signs of life. Fernando was 
 too busy with his war against the Moors to think 
 of Charles ; and Max, who had returned to Ghent 
 an older, not a wiser man, could hardly spare a 
 lance from his unruly towns. The Pope, incited 
 by the French, was working to prevent a war. 
 His eyes were bent on Naples, and the King of 
 France announced his readiness to avenge the Holy 
 See. Fernando was a kinsman of the King of 
 Naples ; nay, the Pope suspected him, as the eventual 
 heir, of stirring up his cousin to reject the Papal 
 yoke. A war to weaken France and strengthen 
 Spain was greatly to be feared by Pome. The 
 French were friends, the Spaniards foes. In Paris, 
 said the Papal legate, evei-y one was busy with the 
 Pope's affairs. The Prince of Salerno was providing 
 maps of Naples ; Madame Anne was sending for 
 Mar(jchal de Qucrdcs ; and Cliarles was studying plans 
 of a campaign. But all tliis ardour in llie cause of 
 Pome had been suddenly arrested by the din of coming 
 w:ir. If English regiments Inndod (n his coasts, the 
 King of France could iuiidly send a man across the
 
 CHAP, v.— anne's lovers. 1489. 205 
 
 Alps. The Pope must interfere. A Papal chamber- 
 lain, Perseo Malvezzi, left for London with a money- 
 box, a parcel of indulgences, a cap of state, a 
 consecrated sword, and a request that Henry- 
 would turn his arms ao^ainst the Moslems rather 
 than against tlie French. 
 
 5. Though Henry met Malvezzi with a cheerful 
 smile, and gave him leave to shake his money-box 
 and sell his indults and indulo^ences in church, he 
 was obliged to hold with him a language hostile to 
 the French. He took the consecrated sword and 
 cap with joy, and caused a solemn service to be held 
 in honour of these Papal gifts ; but he replied 
 to Innocent, that while he wished to satisfy the 
 Pope, he was obliged to help the Duchess Anne. 
 He had no wish to fight the French, and eveiy 
 wish to fight the Turks ; but Charles was ravaging 
 a district near the English coasts. If any crusade 
 was prepared against the infidel, he should be ready 
 to embark ; but for the moment Charles of France 
 was the offender, and his course of violence must 
 be stayed. A holy man was gone to Paris in the 
 name of peace. If Charles would listen to his 
 almoner all would soon be well ; if not, he must 
 defend the orplian giid with all his strength. 
 
 6. Malvezzi brought from Pome a promise of the 
 Cardinal's hat for Morton, and in turn this pluralist 
 stood beside the Papal chamberlain in council, 
 church, and market-place. The primate had a gift for 
 raising money, and his genius for extortion was a
 
 206 BOOK IV. — BRETOX WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 by-word in the town. His chief device was knowai 
 as Morton's Fork. When sending out collectors, he 
 instructed them to set aside excuses. ' If a man 
 lives sparely, say he must have saved and can 
 afford to pay ; if lavishly, declare he must be rich 
 and can afford to pay.' But Morton could not make 
 the people, who had given a war-tax eagerly, subscribe 
 their money for indulgences and crusades. Folk 
 were mad against the French, and in the push and 
 clang of warfare, Morton's voice was drowned by 
 that of Brooke. Impose another tax ! The King 
 would nail a money-box to his door, and ask his 
 peers and ladies to subscribe ; but he could do no 
 more, he told the Papal chamberlain, without excit- 
 ing hatred of the Holy See. When peace was made 
 with France, he could accede to Innocent's wish, and 
 lay a crusade-tax. He added, with his touch of 
 humour, that the Pope should wi'ite to Charles 
 and other kings, exhorting them to grant a 
 tax, in order that the burthen of defending Holy 
 Church miglit not be borne by him alone. 
 
 7. Malvezzi came to London fired with pfolden 
 dreams. In Pome these islands were supposed 
 to be a mine of gold and silver, much of which 
 Malvezzi hoped to sweep into the papal chests. On 
 landing he was liurt ])y liearing fife and drum, and 
 still more linrt by learning that a war-tax liad been 
 laid. He thought the Pope as worthy of assistance as 
 the Breton DuchesH, If flu; Englisli could afford to 
 fight the French, they could ail'ord to pay for the
 
 CHAP. V. — ANNE's lovers. 1489. 207 
 
 salvation of their souls. He showed his bag of papers, 
 and inquired how much his holy wares would fetch. 
 ' Not more than twenty thousand ducats,' some one 
 answered, 'Twenty thousand ducats!' He had 
 counted, in his fancy, many times that sum, and 
 he was fit to cry with rage. ' If I had only heard 
 of this in time,' he wrote to Innocent, ' I should 
 not have published the bull till you had heard 
 about the case. For such a sum it was not wise 
 to lay yourself under obligation to the King of 
 England. Since the bull is out, I cannot call it 
 back ; but I refuse to hear these tales, and try to 
 show that they are false.' Malvezzi found the King 
 a servant of the Pope, and fancied all the English 
 peers and knights were like the King ; but he was 
 slowly undeceived by his attempt to sell these holy 
 wares. In six months after his arrival, he had sold 
 no more twenty-seven dispensations, and received no 
 more than forty-nine pounds in English money. 
 Even the twenty thousand ducats he had flouted 
 seemed a long way off. But he had still the King 
 and court ; the opening of his box would be the 
 test. This box was hung by Henry to a door at 
 court, where every one could see it, and his peers 
 and knights, his dames and abigails, were asked to 
 drop their gifts into a coffer which the King himself 
 would open with a royal show. The gifts were 
 understood as peace-offerings, and the sum subscribed 
 would represent the feeling of the court in favour of 
 the policy of Rome. A day was fixed for this august
 
 208 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 affair. Malvezzi was invited to receive the courtly 
 gift in presence of the chiefest dignitaries of Church 
 and State. The King and Queen, the King's mother, 
 the Queen's mother. Archbishop Morton, and a press 
 of prelates, dukes, earls, marquises, and knights, 
 were present. The ambassadors of foreign powers 
 were asked to witness the imposing scene, and 
 note how lavish of her money England could be 
 when the object — only half concealed — was to divert 
 her from a war with France. Malvezzi took the 
 box, and, lifting up the lid, displayed the royal 
 sum — eleven pounds and eleven shillings in the cur- 
 rent coin ! ' Our hearts sank within our breasts,' 
 Malvezzi wrote to Innocent ; ' for in so great a 
 company we expected to have found much more!'
 
 209 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CHARLES AND ANNE. 
 
 1489-90. 
 
 1. The English troops embarked with Wil- 
 loughby de Brooke, and, having thro-vvn themselves 
 on shore, pushed up into the country, making 
 straight for Guincamp, as the strongest fortress 
 near the sea. In haste the French let down the 
 grille and closed the posterns ; but on seeing Brooke 
 prepare to storm the town, the garrison retired and 
 the inhabitants drew back their gates. Brooke 
 entered in the midst of pealing bells and kindling 
 fires, hailed everywhere as a deliverer of the 
 country from a loathsome yoke. Four days he 
 lodged at Guincamp, where he spent Palm Sunday, 
 and received a message from the Duchess, praying 
 him to march at once for her relief towards 
 Rennes. The fort of Moncontour was in his way ; 
 but when the French who held that fort per- 
 ceived his banners in the distance, they destroyed 
 a portion of the wall and fled. At Moncontour 
 Brooke celebrated Easter with imposing rites, while 
 one of his columns, which had wheeled upon St. 
 Brieu, moved forward on the fort of Chanson, and 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 1 
 
 210 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 compelled the garrison to yield. Meantime an 
 English fleet had doubled Bee du Eaz and thi'own 
 some troops on shore near Vannes. The towns of 
 Vannes and Hennebon were held by strong French 
 ganisons ; yet on a menace of assault a portion of 
 the walls was tumbled down, the garrison fled, and 
 the victorious English entered through the breach. 
 
 2. Rohan, commanding for the French, was forced 
 to stand on his defence, avoid a general action, 
 and secure his hues of passage to Anjou and 
 Maine. He found this task too much. At Brest 
 the people rose upon his troops, and held them 
 prisoners in the citadel. The Duchess was at 
 Rennes, where Edgecombe, as an ofiicer of the Eng- 
 lish household, ruled her court. No day passed by 
 without some Breton noble who had hitherto held 
 aloof from parties, riding to the English camp and 
 giving his adhesion to the Duchess Anne. If Spain 
 and Austria had been equally alert, the French 
 could not have kept a foothold in the duchy ; 
 but Fernando only sent two thousand men from 
 Spain, and Max had not supplied another lance 
 from either Ghent or Worms. 
 
 3. Instead of Max assisting Henry, Henry was 
 compelled to succour Max. Aware that Max was 
 entering into leagues against him, and was seeking 
 to engage the hand of Duchess Anne, Charles sent 
 an order to his gciKMal in the north, Mardchal de 
 Querdes, to cross the frontier with an army, occupy 
 the town of Ypres, and advance into the country, on
 
 CHAP. VI. — CHARLES AND ANNE. 1489-90. 211 
 
 pretence of helping the inhabitants to defend their 
 local rights against the Austrian prince. The town 
 of Dixmunde blocked his way. De Qnerdes required 
 the garrison to yield ; they answered by a challenge 
 to assault. A siege was laid, and guns were mounted 
 for attack. De Querdes himself returned to Ypres, 
 where his main array was lodged, in order when 
 the fort was carried to advance on Bruges. But 
 Daubeney, watching from his lair these movements 
 of the French, drew out of Calais, Guisnes, and 
 Hamme, a thousand pikes and bows. A thousand 
 men were brought unseen from England, when 
 Daubeney sailed for Nieuport in the Sands, 
 pushed tln-ough the narrow streets in sileuce, 
 crossed the level country, entered Dixmunde by 
 the eastern gate, and, picking up a few stout 
 fellows, sallied from the town against the French. 
 A bloody fight ensued; the camp was stormed; 
 eight thousand French were slain ; the guns were 
 captured, and the siege was raised. His work 
 being done, Daubeney marched to Nieuport in the 
 Sands, embarked his men, and sailed for Calais, 
 leaving his sick and wounded in the hospitals of 
 Nieuport with an English guard. 
 
 4. De Querdes, disturbed in his repose at Ypres, 
 took the field with a superior force, and marched on 
 Nieuport to avenge his honour, but the English 
 garrison received him with such ardour that he 
 had to draw his men away, before Daubeney could 
 arrive by sea. The English lay too near at Guisnes
 
 212 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 and Calais, and Mareclial de Querdes fell back, 
 exclaiminof that it never would be well in France 
 while Calais lay in English hands. ' To drive 
 these English out of Calais I would fry seven years 
 in hell,' the Marechal cried. The French now saw 
 they could not fight three enemies at once ; and, since 
 the easiest terms could be arranged with Max — who 
 hated both his allies — Charles despatched an agent 
 with instructions to propose a separate peace. 
 Within a month of the affair at Nieuport, Max 
 was base enough to sign a treaty with the French, 
 by which he undertook to act in concert with the 
 French at Kennes, and made a pact with Charles, 
 that all the Enghsh troops then fighting in the 
 duchy should be driven away. Max urged De 
 Kieux and D'Albret to insist upon this measure with 
 the Duchess Anne, who was at length induced 
 by them to beg her only friends to leave. She 
 signed a treaty with the French, by which she 
 bound herself to send her English and her Spanish 
 troops on board their ships. 
 
 5. A change was taking place in Paris. Louis, 
 now restored to grace, advised his cousin Charles to 
 give up Marguerite and to marry Anne. In losing 
 Marguerite, Charles would lose Franche Comtd and 
 Artois, two wealtliy provinces on his frontier ; but, 
 as Louis thought, of less importance to his kingdom 
 than Bretagne ; a duchy that would round off 
 France by sea and give him the command of all her 
 ports. His sister, Madame Anne, held firmly to
 
 CHAP. VI. — CHARLES AND ANNE. 1489-90. 213 
 
 her former view. To send back Marguerite would 
 offend the Kaiser and provoke a war with princes 
 who invested France from Lille to Dole. Artois 
 and Franche Comtd would be lost ; rich provinces, 
 which her enemies might be able to defend against 
 her arms. What would her brother gain by wedding 
 Duchess Anne ? A poor and barren country in 
 their rear, which Nature must herself restore to 
 France. Madame was right. In fact, a union of 
 Charles and Marguerite was seen to be so much 
 the better policy for France, that serious statesmen 
 paid no heed to rumours that the royal imp might 
 some day break his word, renounce his bride, and 
 challenge Germany to mortal strife. But Charles 
 was a fantastic youth, as weak in head as he 
 was false in heart. To puzzle and surprise his 
 neighbours was his boyish pride, and in this project 
 of his cousin Louis there was every charm to 
 take his flighty soul. There was a secret to conceal, 
 there was a treaty to discard, there was an ally to 
 mislead, there was a neighbour to offend. A girl 
 whom he had courted, and who thought herself 
 his consort, was to be dismissed and outraged, 
 while a girl whom he had injured, and who called 
 herself another man's wife, was to be wooed and 
 carried off. Force, fraud, and frolic, were combined 
 to captivate the mind of Charles. 
 
 6. But Charles was not yet clear that he must 
 lose the duchy if he failed to wed the Duchess. 
 Louis thought so ; but his cousin Louis was a
 
 214 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1483-92. 
 
 book-worm, not a kniglit in mail. Could lie 
 contrive to vdn and hold the duchy by his 
 arms ? He loved the blare and smoke of war, and 
 chose to rule by might where he could easily 
 have ruled by right. Could he expel the leaguers 
 and destroy the league ? Already he had signed 
 a separate peace witli Max. If he could square 
 accounts with either Spain or England, he might 
 hope to hold his ground. He knew the price of 
 peace with Spain. Was he prepared to pay that 
 price ? Not yet. Rossillon was the gateway into 
 France, and while he held it she was covered from 
 attack. Was there no cheaper way ? He thought 
 there was, and threw out feelers to provoke reply. 
 In Rome, in London, and elsewhere, his agents 
 whispered that a treaty could be got by France on 
 other terms than the restoration of Perpignan. He 
 listened for the answer out of Spain. In England it 
 was easy to intrigue for peace ; the war being 
 pressed in England by a turbulent people, and 
 opposed by a sagacious prince. Believing that those 
 turbulent folk Avould listen to the Pope when they 
 would luirdly give an ear to Henry, Charles per- 
 suaded Innocent, whom he deceived as he had 
 cheated Father Christopher, to send his legate, 
 Lionel, Bishop of Concordia, as a messenger of peace 
 to London. Lionel was in Paris on that business 
 of the Pope's dispute with Naples. Iiniocent was 
 told tliat Cliarles could send no troo})s across the 
 Alps wliile war with Henry raged. The pontiff'
 
 CHAP. VI. — CHARLES AND ANNE. 1489-90. 215 
 
 therefore had an interest of his own to serve. The 
 Bishop of Concordia, whose auspicious name was 
 held to be an augury of his success, was ordered to 
 cross the sea, and urge his son, the King of England, 
 to arrange his quarrel with his son, the King of 
 France.
 
 216 
 
 CHAPTER yil. 
 
 A YEAR OF INTRIGUE. 
 1490-1. 
 
 1. Fernando, sitting in his tent before Granada, 
 turned these bruits in Paris, Rome, and London, 
 to his own account. Could Duchess Anne be forced 
 to wed his son, the swsivt and sickly boy of twelve 1 
 If not, how could he put such pressure on the 
 French, as would induce the King to buy him off, as 
 he had done with Max ? At once he fell to work. A 
 sharp and angry message was despatched to Rome. 
 The Bishop of Badajoz, his minister at the Papal 
 court, was told to wait on Innocent, and let him 
 know, ui language strong as he could use, that 
 Spain resented very much his meddling in affairs 
 beyond the Alps. Of course the Pope's intentions 
 had been good. Spain raised no word against a 
 priest proposing peace ; but Innocent's time and 
 agents had been badly chosen, even for the ends he 
 liad in view. The holy father must be told that 
 ])oace between France and England was of no im- 
 portance. War would still disturb the world, thougl 
 Charles and Henry sliould be brought by Innocent's 
 means to sheathe their swords, Rome's first concern, 
 
 li
 
 CHAP. VII. — A YEAR OF INTRIGUE. 1490-1. 217 
 
 the Pontiff must be told, should be to bring about 
 a peace between Castille and France. If Spain were 
 satisfied the English would at once retire. But 
 Innocent must also understand the terms of peace. 
 Rossillon and Cerdafia must return to Spain. This 
 cession of the districts in dispute stood first and 
 last. All other points were open to debate : but 
 France could never be at rest until these counties 
 were restored. 
 
 2. In London he had need to take another tone. 
 Since war began, the English council had been 
 pressing him to change the articles. When Hemy 
 signed the draft prepared by Fox, he fancied he 
 was buying Catharine with a word ; no thought 
 of war with France w^as in his mind ; and he sup- 
 posed the clause about his claim to Normandie had 
 no more meaning than Fernando's claim to be the 
 Duke of Athens. But as war had broken out, 
 and Henry was afield in company with a man who 
 had a separate end to serve, the English council 
 asked to have that clause amended, so that neither 
 Spain nor England could retire unless her ally were 
 included in the terms of peace. Fernando could 
 not yield so much. This clause was nearly all that 
 he had gained by his adroitness at Medina, and 
 to give it up was to abandon for the moment every 
 chance of winning back his duchies in the Pyrenees. 
 Yet he could hardly justify the draft ; and still less 
 could he own his motives for declining to revise it 
 as the English council wished.
 
 218 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 3. The ground was loose beneath his feet, and 
 Puebla was instructed how to feel his way. Fer- 
 nando hoped that England might be led, by her 
 desu-e to mend the articles, into carrying out his 
 larger scheme. Aware that every man in London 
 would object to Juan marrying Duchess Anne, and 
 bringing Spanish fleets into the Channel, Puebla 
 was to choose his words — to hint at dark intrigues 
 — to mystify the council — and to get the English 
 sovereign to suggest a Spanish match. He was to 
 throw out hints that foreign courts were talking 
 of the King of France and Duchess Anne. He 
 was to watch the King, and notice how he took 
 the rumour. Puebla was to urge how much the 
 English would be injured by a union of the duchy 
 and the kingdom, which would follow on a union 
 of the King with Duchess Anne. He was to add 
 that Spain, although she was not menaced so 
 directly, had her coasts, her commerce, and her 
 allies to consider. It was well for Spain and 
 England to repress this growing and aggressive 
 power of France. Could they not see their way 
 to act in common, and engage their honour to 
 oppose all candidates except their own ? If Henry 
 chose to name a suitor, Puebla was empowered to 
 say that Spain would back his suit. Would Henry 
 do the same for Spain ? A common interest ought 
 to lead them to a common action. After what the 
 Kings had done, the Duchess could not criticise a 
 lover of their choice. If Henry listened to these
 
 CHAP. VII. — A YEAR OF IXTRIGUE. 1490-1. 219 
 
 words — but made no further sign of his intention 
 — Puebla might proceed to hint that people had 
 begun to speak of Juan, Prince of the Asturias, 
 as a proper mate for Anne ; but that his parents 
 would not hear of sending him — their only son, the 
 heir of more than twenty crowns — to live in a pro- 
 vincial town, the husband of a subject of the Kings 
 of France. He was to speak of them, however, as 
 of princes who were open to advice. If they 
 were shown that no one else could carry Anne 
 against the French, they might be brought to sac- 
 rifice their son. If Henry were to put Don Juan 
 forward as a rival to the King of France, they 
 would not hold him back. Should Henry listen, 
 Puebla was to add, that if the English council 
 bought out Juan as a candidate, they might amend 
 the articles in any sense they pleased. 
 
 4. At Eennes, the Spanish agent, Eojas, played 
 a bolder game. This able minister induced the 
 Prince of Orange to adopt Don Juan as a can- 
 didate, and got the Duchess to confess that she 
 would like to have the Spanish Prince. Aware 
 that Anne preferred the suit of Max, — a lover who 
 could make her Queen and Empress, Eojas whis- 
 pered in the court of Eennes that Max was trifling 
 with the Bretons, that he never dreamt of marrying 
 Anne, and only made his show of courtship to dis- 
 tract the French. Fernando told him to assert 
 that Max, instead of raising her to the imperial 
 throne, was minded to bestow her on his creature
 
 220 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 D'Egmont. Should the Duchess thiiik of Juan, 
 Rojas was to say that Spain could get the Aus- 
 trians to consent. He was to act ^^^.th seeming 
 fairness, telling her the choice was wholly in her 
 hands, and that the King, his master, would sustain 
 her acts. If she selected Juan, he would answer 
 for the Austrian prince ; if she selected Max, he 
 would support that Austrian prince. The choice 
 must be her own. 
 
 5. Anne took the Spanish agent at his word, and 
 being urged by Rieux, she fixed her maiden eyes 
 on Max. Espousals were arranged in secret, and 
 the Prince of Orange, standing at the altar for his 
 lord, received the Duchess in his name. The rite was 
 done before the Spanish ministers could protest ; 
 and afterwards they thought it prudent to refrain. 
 They spoke of the affair like men who had been 
 badly used. They thought the Duchess should 
 have taken counsel with her friends, the Kings of 
 Spain and England. Spain and England would have 
 put no veto on her choice. So said the ministers. 
 Fernando held his tongue ; but sent an order to 
 recall his troops and ships from Brest. 
 
 G. Tliough Henry had been urged by Parliament 
 to cross the sea, he shrank from taking part in 
 active war. As Morton knew his secret wishes, he 
 was labouring Avith liis clergy in behalf of peace. 
 He sent to Home, Avhere he liad many friends, and 
 stirred the sacred college to go on. A cardinal was 
 coming into England on a mission which concerned
 
 CHAP. VII.— A YEAR OP INTRIGUE. 1490-1. 221 
 
 the Church even more than war with France : 
 the doings of those Bible-men whom Pecock's 
 Repressor had been utterly unable to repress. 
 Malvezzi's failure had alarmed the Roman court. 
 Were English bishops, as alleged, a set of proud 
 and shameless pluralists ? Were English friars, as 
 stated, a fraternity of idle, dissolute and ignorant 
 rogues ? Were English people, as asserted, falling 
 from the Catholic Church ? If so, the pontiff ought 
 to hear the truth, and Adriano de Castello, Car- 
 dinal of Corneto, was proceeding into England to 
 inquire. Castello might be made an instrument of 
 peace. Connected with the highest families in the 
 state, a man of generous tastes and easy manners, 
 he disjjensed his income like a prince. The Roman 
 court was lavish, and, excepting Borgia, hardly 
 any Cardinal in Rome had spent his revenues 
 more freely than Castello. Thus a mission to a 
 country rich in stalls and mitres suited him, and 
 those who could dispose of stalls and mitres could 
 rely on his support. He bore a cardinal's hat to 
 Morton,' and in no long time the Roman cardinal 
 came to see through Morton's eyes. A stall in 
 London, and the rectoiy of St. Dunstan's in the 
 East, . expressed a part of Morton's gratitude ; and 
 Adriano de Castello, while pursuing his more 
 spiritual labours, urged the pontiff to assist that 
 party in the English council which was striving to 
 avert a general war. 
 
 7. But long before the Pope could interfere, the
 
 222 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAK. 1488-92. 
 
 passions of all parties were inflamed by an event in 
 Nantes. So soon as D'Albret learned that Max and 
 Anne were plighted to each other, he renounced his 
 duty, wrote to Charles, threw down his arms, and 
 yielded up his fortress to the French. This act of 
 treachery, by which the Bretons lost their second 
 city, fired the English people into frenzy. Morton 
 was no longer heard. Castello was no longer heard. 
 From Kent to Cumberland the country was aflame, 
 and Henry was compelled to take a leading part. 
 Swift messengers were sent to Spain and Germany, 
 requesting them to arm at once and throw their 
 forces into France. Isabel answered fairly ; but her 
 troops, she wrote, were tented round Granada, where 
 they could not leave a single fort unwatched. She 
 was erecting Santa Fe, a fortress near the Caliph's 
 city ; in a little while that fortress would be built 
 and armed ; and when tlie Moorish capital was 
 masked, she might have men to spare for distant 
 points. The English must be patient with her. 
 Max was more alert in words. He undertook to 
 put ten thousand men afield ; he would be ready 
 in six montlis to march ; and Henry was advised 
 by him to act in concert with his troops, although 
 their blows should be directed on the opposite sides 
 of France. The Duchess Anne, as Max's consort, 
 took the style of Queen of the Romans. Yet 
 the Last of the Ritters was content witli writing 
 notes and biaiidisliijig his sword. A winter and 
 a sj)ring slipt past, l)ut Max's lancers never came
 
 CHAP. VII. — A YEAR OF INTRIGUE. 1490-1. 223 
 
 in sight. Men lost all patience in these long delays, 
 and Henry was so strongly urged by peers and 
 commons to go forward swiftly, that he had to push 
 preparations for attacking France, though he might 
 have to enter on the war alone.
 
 224 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 THE DUCHESS MARRIED. 
 
 1491-2. 
 
 1. At length the King of France perceived tliat 
 he must choose between the ladies and their por- 
 tions. Marguerite or Anne — Franche Comte or 
 Bretagne ; which would he have ? Not caring for 
 the ladies, he referred the business into wiser hands. 
 Orleans told him he should marry Anne. As 
 Charles assented, all the rest was detail ; but the 
 details were not easy to arrange. The King was 
 pledged to marry Marguerite. The Duchess had 
 assumed the name and rank of Max's consort. If 
 the King could cast off Marguerite, how could he 
 wed the wife of Max ? A King of France is 
 potent, l)ut the marriage made at Rennes could 
 only be unmade in Home. Such things required 
 much art and secresy ; but Orleans was a bold 
 intriguer; and a troop of able priests were sent 
 by him to Rome and Rennes. These agents were 
 to hint that Anne was not a lawful wife. She was 
 a ward, wlio could not wed without the license of 
 her feudal lord. 'I'liis doubt Ijcing raised, the Bre- 
 tons wondered wliethcr Anne was married to the
 
 CHAP. VIII. — THE DUCHESS MARRIED. 1491-2. 225 
 
 Austrian prince or not. The girl herself was 
 troubled in her mind. In Rome, another game 
 was played. The nuptial rites could hardly be 
 denied ; but France, as champion of the Papacy, 
 was powerful in the Roman court. Much coin was 
 spent, and many promises were made. What hin- 
 dered Charles, these agents asked, from marching 
 to the Pope's assistance ? Nothing but the Breton 
 war. If that affair could be arranged, the chivalry 
 of France would stream across the Alps. In Borgia, 
 then the leading cardinal, Orleans found the man 
 he needed in his scheme for marrying Duchess Anne 
 to Charles. In secret all the necessary breves were 
 drawn ; in silence they were sent to France ; in secresy 
 and silence they were lodged in readiness at Tours. 
 
 2. Dunois, a favourite of the Duchess-, spoke to 
 her of Charles, whom he described as young 
 and dashing — as a prince who loved her with 
 a virgin heart. He spoke to her of Max, a man 
 growing fat and old, as being a coward, who had 
 married her by proxy, and had never had the 
 pluck to show his face. The heart of Max, lie 
 said, was with his offspring by a former wife ; the 
 children who would be his heirs ; the son who 
 would inherit his imperial crown. If Anne should 
 marry Max, her childien would be younger sons. 
 But if she married Charles, her state would l)e 
 the first in France ; her son and grandson woidd 
 be Kings. Anne, piqued by Max's absence, listened 
 to her favourite's words. Dunois knew all the 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 BOOK lY. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 secrets of his friends in Paris. He con Id tell her 
 when her vow to Max was cancelled by the Roman 
 court, and when her license to accept the King of 
 France was sealed. At length she yielded to his 
 arts. 
 
 3. The King of France might now have ridden 
 doAvn to Rennes and married her in open day, but 
 such a course had no attractions for an imp like 
 Charles. To please the King, there must be mys- 
 tery, deceit, and outrage. So a mock proposal for 
 a truce — a mock arrangement for a peace — was 
 made. The French agreed to let the ' Queen of 
 the Romans' go to join her German husband. 
 They undertook to pay her certain pensions, and 
 to rule her duchy by a separate code, administered 
 by a native judge. And then they let her go. 
 With few but trusty servants, Anne set out to join 
 her Austrian lord, whom she had never seen, and 
 never wished to see. Near Tours the Kinof of 
 France was waiting to receive her as a guest. A 
 bishop was at hand. The Roman breves were read. 
 Tlie youth and maiden started for the halls erected 
 by Pierre de Brosser, barber of St. Louis, where the 
 Bishop of Albi, who was in their secret, read the 
 service and declared them man and wife. No love 
 was made by either boy or girl. The bridegroom 
 got liis ducliy, and the bride obtained her rank 
 of Queen ; but theii' espousals were so much a 
 business and a ])argaiTi, that tlic lady was com- 
 pelled to liind herscir, in case the King should die
 
 CHAP. VIII. — THE DUCHESS MARRIED. 1491-2. 227 
 
 without heirs male, to many his successor on the 
 throne ! In brief, the Duchess married France. 
 
 4, Before he knew how much he had been 
 tricked by Charles and Louis, Henry wi^ote a letter 
 to the Pope, explaining how he had been labouring 
 in the cause of peace. In urging Charles to let his 
 cause be judged by reason, he had done his best. 
 The French had seemed to yield, and even signed a 
 treaty; but while their ministers were signing arti- 
 cles of peace, their troops were cannonading towns. 
 They had usurped and occupied the duchy. Nor 
 was Charles content with having wronged him in 
 the Duchy. He was stirring up the Scots to cross 
 his border lines, and bribing Irish kernes to rise 
 against tlie English rule. Since nothing just and 
 fair could now be hoped from France, the King, 
 though much against his will, might have to enter 
 on a war. If peace could be secured by giving 
 way, he was prepared to yield ; but this importu- 
 nate cravinof of the French for what was not their 
 own, could never be appeased, and must in honour 
 be opposed. This craving threatened every one in 
 turn. He told the Pope that Italy was not safe ; 
 nay, inju^^y might fall on Rome herself To stem 
 this torrent, England was preparing all her strength ; 
 though nothing was so hateful to the King as Chris- 
 tian armies shedding Christian blood. ' We promise 
 your Holiness,' he said, ' that just as we have always 
 been devoted to you in the past, we shall be de- 
 voted to you in the time to come. To our utmost,
 
 228 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 148S-92. 
 
 we shall always guard the freedom of the Church 
 . * . . and we implore you to support our rig:hts 
 and acts.' 
 
 5. At Santa Fe these nuptials of the King and 
 Duchess seemed to open out a new and splendid 
 prospect for the reigning house. As yet, this house 
 was barely recognised by foreign courts. In France 
 and Germany the Excellenta was regarded as the 
 lawful ruler of Castille, and while the French and 
 Austrians were united in the pledge of Charles and 
 Marguerite, Fernando saw no hope of gaining ground 
 with them. The King of France had spurned his 
 offers, and he had not dared to tempt the German 
 prince. But now those courts were finally es- 
 tranged. No prince had ever suffered and forgiven 
 such wrongs as Charles had heaped on Max. That 
 Max would fight, Fernando felt assured ; that even 
 after lighting he would hate and loathe the French, 
 he also felt assured. All allies would be welcome, 
 and au ally such as Spain would be the moment 
 she had won Granada, miMit be stronof enouofh to 
 make her terms. Why not accept the union thrown 
 away by France? A close alliance with the Empire 
 would fiiliance his glory and protect liis dynasty. 
 Wliy sli(Mil(] not Juan marry Marguerite? Nay, 
 more, why slioiiM imt .Inaiia marry Pliihp ? Philip 
 ^voul(l in time l)i' I']inj)ri-or. At once Fernando 
 off<'i-t'(l lirlj( to Max. and entered into aiticles 
 with lOiigland for a joint attack on France. Ilos- 
 bIUoh, lie could see, was in liis grasp. What else
 
 CHAP. VIII. — THE DUCHESS MARRIED. 1491-2. 229 
 
 might come of his alliance with the Austrian court 
 was left for time to show. 
 
 6. Amidst his bridal junkets, Charles was told 
 that three great kingdoms were in league against 
 him, and preparing to invade his realm. A fleet 
 was carrying troops to Calais ; Henry was among 
 his warriors ; and an army such as France had 
 not encountered since the day of Azincour was 
 sallying from the lines of Guisnes. These Eng- 
 lish were the first afield ; twenty -five thousand 
 foot and sixteen hundred horse. If they should 
 fight as troops who bore the banner of St. George 
 had always fought, no force that France might raise 
 in haste could beat them back. Charles saw that 
 he must buy them ofi^ ; and Henry was in mood to 
 treat for peace. The English monarch . had dis- 
 played his power ; his people had been breathed 
 by march and skirmish ; he was tented on the 
 enemy's soil ; and his immediate objects had been 
 gained. Pope Innocent was dead, and Cardinal 
 Borgia reigned in Rome. He had to learn how 
 matters stood in Italy ; and Charles proposed to 
 pay him seven hundred and forty-five thousand 
 crowns of gold, in yearly sums of fifty thousand 
 francs, for peace. That money tempted him to 
 parley. Henry had no thought of conquering Nor- 
 mandie and Maine ; and having gained his point, 
 he signed a separate truce, and left his allies to 
 arrange their own affairs. 
 
 7. But neither of these allies sufiered from tlie
 
 230 BOOK IV. — BRETON WAR. 1488-92. 
 
 wrath, of Cliarles. Fernando pressed liis foes so 
 warmly in the duchies, that the King* began to 
 parley, and his parley ended m a cession of Cerdana 
 and Rossillon to the crowTi of Aragon. Nor was 
 the flighty youth more fortunate in his war with Max. 
 In sending Marguerite home, Charles lost his legal 
 right to Artois and Franche Comte. Fancying he 
 could keep by force what he might have to cede 
 in law, he had refused to yield these provinces ; but 
 he was roused from such a dream by roar of guns ; 
 and after many feints and tricks, he was compelled 
 to render up to Germany his frontier towns. Men, 
 money, provinces, had all been thrown away by 
 Charles. The comedy of his marriage was become 
 a tragic farce. On every side he piled up loss on 
 loss. A yearly tribute had been pledged to Eng- 
 land ; Rossillon and Cerdana had been given to 
 Spain ; Artois and Franche Comtd had returned to 
 Austrian keeping. France was isolated in the 
 world. The Germans had become her mortal ene- 
 mies. What had France to show for all these 
 losses ? Charles was now at hberty to cross the 
 Alps and phuige his country into endless woes.
 
 fm\\ tin iiitlh 
 
 CATHAEINE AT GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FALL OF THE CALIPHATE. 
 
 1492. 
 
 1. Fernando was on guard within his tent 
 before the Moorish hnes ; the scene before him 
 taxing all his strength, and drawing out his mili- 
 tary skill. The Moors still fought like lions ; yet 
 the day for which he had been toiling more than 
 twenty years was nigh. In looking back on every 
 step by which he had secured a point, Fernando 
 felt the pride of one who has been left to fight 
 and win alone. 
 
 2. Those knights and friars who swarmed around 
 his tent and choked his court, so far from being the 
 whole of Spain, were not even types and servants 
 of the whole of Spain. Some warriors of the highest 
 order were encamped around his tent ; such warriors 
 as Ponce de Leon and Gonsalvo de Cordova ; but
 
 232 BOOK Y. — CATHAEIXE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 his ranks were filled by denizens of every clime 
 and followers of every creed. From far and near 
 the men of broken fortunes flocked to Spain, as 
 kites come fluttering towards a field of blood. 
 Not many came hke Rivers and his English 
 troopers, out of pious zeal. They fought for pay, 
 and pillaged every farm they passed. No blessing 
 of a liberated people rested on their heads. Some 
 natives were a little better than these strangers ; 
 yet the best of even these natives were but samples 
 of two classes m a country rich in races, creeds, 
 and callings ; an unlettered gentry, who could ride 
 and stab, and make a profitable trade of war ; a 
 brutal peasantry, who could push a pike and grovel 
 in the dust before a monk. If blue in blood and 
 rich in quarterings, many of those gentry wanted 
 bread, and looked in hunger and despair to feed- 
 ing on the more industrious Moor. When Don 
 Alonzo de Gusman, Knight of St. Santiago, and 
 a distant cousin of the King, grew sick of waiting 
 in tlie court i'ny place and play, he seized a pike, 
 enlisted in the rank and file, and turned liis point 
 against the Moors. ' I am of gentle blood,' he 
 said, ill liis unconscious liumour, 'and I claim the 
 dress of Santiago for tlic diH'ds T am about to do.' 
 Alonzo a,f](l(Hl, witl) a touch tliat made all Si)a.nish 
 knights liis kin ; '1 scorn to work, and yet I dread 
 ])eing ])0()r.' Too ])roud to labour. h(^ was not too 
 proud lo lK!g. When hungci- pinched him, he "was 
 not' afraid to steal. The throng of knights who lay
 
 CHAP. I. — FALL OF THE CALIPHATE. 1492. 233 
 
 about Fernando's tent were faithful copies of this 
 knight of Santiago. 
 
 3. Lettered and industrious men had no such 
 feehng as inspired these lean and noble knights. To 
 drive the Caliphs out of Spain appeared the settled 
 purpose of Fernando's war, and with those Caliphs 
 all the Arabic schools of science, art, and trade. 
 How could a man who loved his country join in 
 such a crusade ? Every one engaged in either art 
 or industry was looking to those schools for light. 
 A Moor was better tauofht and better fed than almost 
 any Goth in Spain. A chemist, farmer, chronicler, 
 he read more books, and books of a more liberal 
 kind. He was a higher judge of courtesy. If two 
 Castillian nobles had a quarrel, they preferred to 
 state it in Granada, with the Caliph for an umpire, 
 rather than submit their points of honour to a 
 native prince. A Spanish cavaher who wished to 
 gain renown in war, repaired to the Alhambra, 
 where he entered as a student in the Moorish 
 school of arms. Ponce de Leon and Gonsalvo de 
 Cordova had formed themselves on Moorish models. 
 A Castillian smith who wrought and tempered 
 swords employed a Moorish artist in his forge. An 
 Aragonese builder who had public work to do, 
 applied to Moorish architects for help. A Spanish 
 silversmith copied arabesques and damascenes. 
 Moors had founded the great workshops of 
 Toledo and Zaragoza ; and the finest blades of 
 Spain were stamped with Moorish marks. When
 
 234 BOOK v. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 Zarao-oza wished to build a tower tliat should 
 excel the campaniles of Venice and Bologna, she 
 employed Ballabar and Monferriz, famous Moorish 
 builders, to construct for her that splendid pile. 
 
 4. All Spaniards borrowed from the Moors, as 
 Russians borrowed from the Tartars of Kazan. A 
 gentleman of Toledo looked to Moorish sources for 
 the fashion of his coat, the plumage of his hat, the 
 science which preserved his health, the story which 
 beguiled his pain, the music which enchanted him 
 to sleep. He hung a Moorish hanjar on his thigh, 
 and strapped a Moorish saddle to his steed. A poet 
 visited Granada for the subject of his muse, and 
 found among the pomegranates and vines an atmo- 
 sphere of song. A writer who would sell his 
 romance, had to choose a Moorish knight as hero of 
 his tale. Maza and Sarife were the popular idols. 
 If a man grew famous for his valour, wisdom, and 
 success, he was considered worthy to have been a 
 Moor. The greatest name in ballad lore was that 
 of Dias, who was known to common people only by 
 his Moorish rank of Seid or Cid. Gonsalvo, the 
 most perfect knight in Spain, the Bayard of his 
 country, })huned himself on l)eing, at every point, 
 a Moorisli gentleman. Tlie arms he wore were 
 Mijorish work. The songs he sang were Moorish 
 verse. He was so perfect in the Moorish speech 
 and style, that he could pass in tlu^ Alhambra 
 fill- ;i Moor. The King and C^ueen were no less 
 ready than their subjects to obey this general rule.
 
 CHAP. I, — FALL OF THE CALIPHATE. 1492. 235 
 
 Fernando wore the same red velvet cloak as Abd- 
 allah, and Isabel donned the same mantilla as 
 Zoraya. In a Moorish house, the rooms were 
 brighter, cooler, healthier, than in any Spanish 
 house. In building, husbandry, and literature, the 
 Gotlns had everything to learn fi'om tlieir more bril- 
 liant neighbours of the south. What church in 
 Gothic Spain was equal to the Mosque of Cordova ? 
 What tower was equal to the Tower of Seville ? 
 Where, in Gothic Spain, was garden like the Gene- 
 ralife ? The Alhambra was the finest palace in the 
 west ; the libraries of Granada were the richest in 
 the world. 
 
 5. No one felt sure that if the Moors were 
 driven from Spain, the Jews would not be forced to 
 follow them. . A Goth could hardly see in what a 
 Jew was different to a Moor. They had the same 
 dark eyes, lithe frames, and swarthy skins. They 
 had the same quick senses, and the same capacities 
 of speech. Each turned his back on Catholic wor- 
 ship ; each retired into his synagogue and mosque ; 
 and it was hard to say in what a synagogue differed 
 from a mosque. If Jew and Moor were gone, what 
 schools of learning, poetry, and science, would re- 
 main ? In art and industry the Jews were equal to 
 the Moors ; in song and science, they were more 
 than equal to the Moors. Ince de Gali was a worthy 
 peer of Ballabar. Zacuto had no rival in astronomy 
 and mathematics. Alonzo de Zamora, Pablo de 
 Heridia, and Pedro de Cartagena, ranked among the
 
 236 BOOK Y. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 leading writers of the age. Abravanel M^as a master 
 in philosophy as well as in finance. To drive away 
 these Moors and Jews from Spain w^as to deprive 
 the country of her excellence in all the arts ; yet 
 every one suspected that the King and Queen, in- 
 cited by their friars, were bent on driving every 
 Moor and Jew from Spain. 
 
 G. Fernando pushed his trenches to the city 
 walls, destroyed the water ducts, and intercepted 
 the supplies of corn. At length the Caliph yielded 
 to his fate ; but even then he yielded more to guile 
 than force. Gonsalvo stole by night into the city, 
 every lane and court of which were as familiar to 
 his sight as the arcades of Cordova, and with his 
 Moorish garb and accent passed in safety through 
 the gates and streets. A Moor in spirit, he was able 
 to address the Caliph in the only language he Avould 
 deign to hear. The war was represented as a sort 
 of tournament in wliich tlie Moorish and Castillian 
 kniglits liad jousted for Granada. The Castillian 
 kniglits had won the prize ; but notliing else was 
 changed. Al)d-allali still remained a Kinjr. His 
 capital was lost; but in tlio mountains of the Alpu- 
 jarras he had still an independent kingdom left. 
 That kingdom was secured to liiiii ior ever. He was 
 free to mai-cli, and free to take with him his harem 
 and liis wcaltli. 11' any citizen of Granada wished 
 to fjuit the city he was free to go ; but nothing in 
 a citizen's life w<»nM be affected by the change of 
 rulers. Eveiy one would be j)rotected in his person,
 
 CHAP. I. — FALL OF THE CALIPHxVTE, 1492. 237 
 
 in his property, and in his creed. The Spanish 
 knights had won their prize, but they were knights 
 and gentlemen, and treaties made with knights and 
 gentlemen are sacred things. A contract was ar- 
 ranged between ' the Moors ' and ' the CastilJian 
 knights.' Not knowing those with whom he had 
 to deal, the Caliph yielded, with a sigh, and the 
 Sultana covered him with her immortal scorn : ' Yes, 
 sigh for what is lost like a woman, since thou couldst 
 not defend it like a man 1 ' 
 
 7. No stroke of fortune ever stirred men's minds 
 more deeply than Fernando's victories against the 
 Moors. Not forty years had passed since Constanti- 
 nople fell before an Asiatic horde. A Moslem host 
 was storming up the Danube, overflowing Greece, 
 disturbing Sicily and Venice, and extending every 
 year their frontiers towards the west. Vienna was 
 not safe by land, Palermo was not safe by sea. All 
 Europe was amazed by this advance. A holy war 
 was preached ; a sacred fund was raised ; and 
 princes were enjoined to imitate the virtues of St. 
 Louis and the Lion Heart. A Holy League was 
 formed. YIt nothing had been done to stop the 
 Moslem hosts. What cared a King of France 
 about the safety of Belgrade ? Why should a 
 Kaiser send his pikes to Cyprus ? Innocent and 
 Alexander tried to rouse the faithful ; but the money 
 paid into their hands was spent on other things 
 than ships and guns. So far from fighting for 
 the Cross, the French had made a treaty with the
 
 238 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 Turks. All simple Christians, therefore, heard with 
 throbbing pulse and flashing eye of the assault of 
 Baza, of the blazing tents of Santa Fe, and of the 
 final sorties of the Moors ; a sense of danger quicken- 
 ing their delight in this great feat of arms. 
 
 8. Rome gave the signal for rejoicmg when 
 Granada fell ; for in no other city was this vic- 
 tory of Spain so welcome as in Rome. As King 
 of Sicily, Fernando had a motive for repellmg the 
 Mohammedans, not shared by any ruler in the 
 west, and Sicily, his sea-girt island, was an outwork 
 of the Papal States. A pasha in Palermo would 
 have been an awkward neighbour to a Pope in 
 Rome. The downfall of Granada, therefore, was a 
 triumph for the Churcli, and Rome, in honour of 
 that great event, proclaimed a festival of the Cross. 
 In London, where the Saracens were chiefly known 
 from song and legend, their defeat was judged more 
 soberly than in Rome ; yet even in London, Car- 
 dinal Morton told the people at St. Paul's that 
 while the Church, unhappily, was losing ground 
 elsewhere, that liigli and mighty captain, Don 
 Fernando, King of Spain, and father of the young 
 Princess of Wales, had won a kingdom for the 
 Cross ; for which high victoiy of the faith all 
 Christian men and women were enjoined by him 
 to thank Almighty God.
 
 2;J9 
 
 CHAPTER TI. 
 
 GRANADA. 
 
 1492-3. 
 
 1. When Savage left the baby Catalina clap- 
 ping hands at dog and bidl in the arena, she 
 had been carried from the Castle on the Mount to 
 Jaen, where Isabel fixed her court and kept her 
 children, while Fernando rode afield and spent 
 his fiery days in camp. When Baza fell, and 
 the great siege began, Isabel had broken up her 
 house, and with her boy and girls had ridden into 
 the field, and never left her troops till they had 
 won the highest turrets of the Moor. Her tent 
 was pitched before the city wall ; the Moors came 
 out ; the camp was set on fire ; and Catharine lay 
 among the burning sheets and poles. She saw that 
 camp of canvas grow into a camp of stone. Her 
 window gave upon a lovely landscape ; and she 
 looked across that landscape to a massive tower 
 from which the crescent glittered like a moon. 
 She saw the crimson walls of the Alhambra, topped 
 with cypresses and hung with vines ; and hailed 
 the fairy palace on the mountain side. She was 
 a girl of seven when Christopher Columbus came
 
 240 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. M92-6. 
 
 to Santa Fe and begged her mother's leave to 
 add an empu'e to her states. AVhen the observant 
 friars were sent into Granada, where they ravaged 
 through the mosques, and smeared the marble floors 
 and golden shafts with wash and dirt, she rode from 
 Santa Fe into the wrecked, yet lovely and myste- 
 rious palace of the Moor. 
 
 2. Her home was ravisliing. The city at her 
 feet sprang proudly from a nest of groves and vine- 
 yards, over which the towers and shafts of the 
 Alhambra shot into the air, and showed in lines 
 of ligiit against the brown and sunburnt hills. 
 Around her lay a hundred slopes of orchard, planted 
 walk, and cypress grove. A balmy air flowed down 
 into her chambers and arcades. A flood of sunshine 
 bathed the pavement of her garden all the year, 
 yet snow was always in her sight on the sierra 
 tops. ' Granada,' sang the native poets — and 
 Granada was a school of poets, male and female — 
 ' is a palace for the eye, a place of contemplation 
 for the soul ; she is a watch-tower on the hills ; 
 a place of beauty and a place of strength ; high 
 walls secure her from a foe, and rivers intersect her 
 houses, mills, and markets, and supply her baths 
 with an abundant stn^ain of jmrest water ; down 
 her meadows, and among her cypresses, these rivers 
 flow like streams of gold between her emerald 
 banks ; the soil is rich enough to bring forth every- 
 tliing that feeds the body and enchants the mind.' 
 Art, trade, and learnijig, found a refuge in Granada.
 
 CHAP. II. — GRANADA. 1492-3. 241 
 
 Though the pearl of earthly beauty, she was held 
 to be more famous for her men and women than 
 her graceful towers, her shady groves, and smiling 
 fields. A home of scholars, heroes, and physi- 
 cians, her especial pride was a poetic crown. ' The 
 seat of science, empire, and religion, God has 
 blessed her most,' the Caliphs said, ' in making her 
 the birthplace of a school of poets, male and female, 
 whose productions are the dowry of mankind.' 
 Within her walls were born those female singers, 
 Nazhim, Zeynab, and Hamdah ; women whom the 
 Mcfors respected as the Miriams of their race. 
 
 3. Catalina saw this city harried and opj^rest, and 
 many of those poets, artists, and physicians, driven 
 away. Against the letter and the spirit of her 
 treaty with the Moors, her mother sent inquisitors 
 into house and mosque. In vain the citizens appealed 
 to ' the Castillian knights.' In vain they cited article 
 and text, which guaranteed the freedom of their 
 mosques and houses. Isabel was stiff. She had a 
 duty to fulfil. Her pledge had long ago been given 
 to tlie Dominicans that she would pluck out heresy 
 from the soil of Spain. Granada was a part of 
 Spain. The honour of Castillian knighthood was not 
 sacred in her eyes, though she had gladly pledged 
 that honour when she had a Caliph to deceive. 
 Her spies went up and down the city, seeking whom 
 they could betray. Their victims were the rich, the 
 noble, the renowned in name. Some left their 
 homes ; some put away their riches ; some defied 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 lier officers. It was a dano-erous thincr to stir tlie 
 passion of a quick and ardent race, accustomed to 
 the use of arms, and fired witli an idea that their 
 losses had been caused by civic feud and personal 
 weakness rather than by national decline. Fer- 
 nando tried to curb his consort's zeal. A man of 
 worldly mind, he cared for unity of rule far more 
 than unity of faith. He saw that it was idle to 
 denounce, and dangerous to excite, the people of 
 liis conquered lands. 
 
 4. But no such worldly wisdom saved the 
 Jews. Though rich in art and skill, the Jews 
 were few in numbers, and were noted by inquisitors 
 as Friends of Light. Three months of grace were 
 offered to the Jews, in which they Avere to make a 
 final choice — baptism or banishment. If they accepted 
 Christian rites, they could remain ; but under pain of 
 death shoidd they relapse into their ancient ways. 
 Of this relapse the Fathers of St. Dominic were to 
 be the judges. Some were weak enough to yield ; 
 and every one desired a respite from the fatal word 
 of Isabel. Rabbi Aboab threw himself before the 
 Queen. He begged for mercy, if he dared not ask 
 for justice, at hor hands. His people, he could 
 truly urge, were old inhabitants of the soil ; yea, 
 older than the local nobles and the reiixninir house. 
 They liad committed no offence. They were not 
 subject to an IiK|uisition found;.'d to protect the 
 faitliful from corruptions of the faith. Aboab spoke 
 in vain. Ai)ravanel at last repaired to court. The
 
 CHAP. 11. — GRANADA. 1492-3. 243 
 
 King and Queen received him like a prince, and 
 listened to his tale. ' I come to offer ransom from my 
 people/ said Abravanel, A man as wise as he was 
 rich, he spoke the language likely to arrest Fernan- 
 do's ear. Six hundred thousand crowns in gold he 
 offered, if this great iniquity might only pass away. 
 
 5. While Abravanel was speaking, Torquemada 
 rushed into the royal closet, holding out a crucifix. 
 ' Behold Him ! ' cried the friar ; ' He whom Judas 
 sold for thirty pieces ! Would you sell Him too ? ' 
 Abravanel fell upon his face. ' Look on us, Kmg,' 
 he cried; 'have mercy on thy people. Take from 
 us all we have, but do not drive us from the land 
 we love. let us live and die where we were 
 born.' Fernando wanted coin ; six hundred thou- 
 sand crowns were much ; but Isabel was seated 
 nigh ; and with her icy breath she froze Fernando's 
 melting soul. She would not yield a jot ; her pledge 
 was given ; and she would keep that pledge, if she 
 unpeopled half her realm. Abravanel gazed in won- 
 der at the woman's face. A mute and stony face, it 
 frowned on him and on his suit. He turned to 
 prelate, count, and monk, and begged them if they 
 had the hearts of men to intercede with Isabel. But 
 no one dared to whisper mercy in her ear. At 
 last the Hebrew rose, and going to his brethren in 
 their porches, said with firmness, ' If they leave us 
 life, we live ; if they choose to kill us, we shall die ; 
 but they shall never force us to transgress our holy 
 law.'
 
 244 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 6. The poor and aged Hebrews thought of the 
 long road and of the unknown journey's end. ' Come/ 
 said Abravanel, ' let us quit these lands, and seek 
 a place elsewhere.' A month flew past, and men 
 with horns strode up and down the city, crying out, 
 * Begone, ye Jews, begone ! A month is past. In 
 two months more, all ye who lag behind are lost.' 
 Each month these men with horns strode up and 
 down the city, calling on the Jews to fly from 
 coming wrath. In families they broke up house and 
 home ; but who would buy the things they had to 
 leave behind ? They were compelled to go, and 
 could not carry with them produce, workshop, 
 implement of trade. An artist had to quit his 
 study and a scholar had to lose his books. Zacuto 
 left his globes and astrolabes behind. No one 
 would buy the things for which he had no use, 
 and few would give a price for things of daily 
 need. A house was sold for a donkey, a vineyard 
 for a piece of cloth. But loss of house and 
 land was not the worst. A Jew has a peculiar 
 reverence for the field in which his ftxther sleeps ; 
 and icc'ls his deepest pang when taking flirewell 
 of his family grave. The record of one scene 
 remains. Tlio Hebrews of Segovia, who had 
 flourished inider Enrique the Liberal, received the 
 edict of ex})ulsion witli amazement, and delayed 
 tlicii- lli<dit in some va<rue hoi)e that sucli a mon- 
 strous act woidd never be enforced. When tliey 
 were undeceived, tlu-ir misery became supreme.
 
 CHAP. II. — GRANADA. 1492-3. 245 
 
 Without a tear, they broke up house and farm, 
 and having left and lost them all, they went into 
 the grave-yard^ where their fathers slept their final 
 sleep on earth. In groups they fell upon their 
 knees, and spent three days and nights in fervent 
 prayer. At last they rose and girded up their 
 loins for flight. ' In one day,' says Abravanel, 
 ' three hundred thousand young and old were ready 
 for the march. With God for leader we set out.' 
 
 7. They sailed to Italy, to Germany, to Africa, 
 to Anadol. Some found a home in Genoa and 
 Florence, but the fathers who had driven them 
 out of Spain pursued them into Italy, and roused 
 the passions of a bigoted mob against them. Some 
 found refuge in Navarre, and others sought protection 
 from the King of Portugal. Still more took ship 
 for Smyrna, Alexandria, and Stamboul, and carried 
 to those Moslem ports their enterprise and wealth. 
 The royal poet, Bajazet, who watched the doings of 
 Fernando with a curious eye, exclaimed, on hearing 
 of this increase to his towns, ' You call Fernando 
 wise, yet he has made his country poor, to make 
 mine rich !'
 
 246 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AT THE ALHAMBRA. 
 1493. 
 
 1. For. years to come, with only now and then 
 a break, the Princess Catharine was to live and 
 grow in those secluded bowers where dark sultanas 
 had been wont to make their home ; a strong and 
 fitful girl, more like her father in his pride of 
 life, than like that Prince of Camelot whose mortal 
 name she had begun to bear. Granada, as so 
 many people had foreseen, was made the resi- 
 dence. The royal children had their rooms in the 
 Alhambra ; and although the holy war was at an 
 end, the court had still the aspects of a convent and 
 a camp. 
 
 2. A soldier who had donned the sack and cord, 
 Alessandro Gei'aldino, was appointed to the post 
 of Catharine's tutor. Born of a good family in 
 Perugia, he and liis bnttlicr, Antonio the poet, had 
 come to S])aiii in searcli of fortune. Isabel bad 
 noted these Italiim l)r'itlicrs; seen that they had 
 talent; and liad placed tliuiii near herself Antonio
 
 CHAP. III. — AT THE ALHAMBEA. 1493. 247 
 
 had become a proto-notary and diplomatic agent; 
 Alessandro had been named cuj)-bearer to the Queen. 
 Antonio had been sent to Rennes and other cities on 
 her business ; and in some of his journeys Alessandro 
 had gone with him ; but higher duties had been 
 found for Alessandro in the royal tent. Mendoza 
 favoured him, and on his taking orders, Isabel had 
 named him tutor to her daughters, and especially 
 to her youngest child. By one wise word, dis- 
 creetly spoken, he had won immortal fame. When 
 Queen and Cardinal were busy with the project of 
 Columbus, men were much divided in opinion as 
 to what the council should advise — the liberals 
 wishing to support Columbus for the good of science, 
 and the clericals opposing him as one who put no 
 trust in holy Church. The clergy said the world 
 was flat, and quoted Nicolas of Lyra and St. 
 Augustine in their favour. How could priest and 
 cardinal dispute the verdict of a saint ? Mendoza 
 turned to Alessandro : — ' Cardinal,' the Italian said, 
 ' though Nicolas of Lyra and St. Augustine are 
 very good theologians, they are only jjoor geogra- 
 phers ; for the Portuguese have lately been so 
 far at sea that they have lost sight of the Polar 
 star, and have seen the vault of heaven revolving- 
 round a soutliern star.' Mendoza was convinced 
 by Catharine's tutor, and Columbus had been suflered 
 to annex an empire in the ocean to the many crowns 
 of Spain.
 
 248 BOOK V. CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 3. In eating angel bread, in lisping endless 
 prayers, in dancing with her ladies, and in talk- 
 ing with her teacher, Catharine was to grow into 
 her teens. At times she went with her dueiia to 
 the bull-ring, beat her paper fan, and saw the horses 
 gored to death. At other times she watched the 
 smoke curl up beneath her lattice ledge. One day 
 it darkened from a pile of burning books, next day 
 it reddened from a pyre of burning men. She 
 learned to dread the frown of an inquisitor. She 
 saw tlie chief Dominican surrounded in the public 
 street by guards who brushed the crowds aside, 
 and seized offenders at his beck and nod. Her 
 youth was nurtured in the sentiment of a war of 
 race and creed. In haU and tower she met the gaze 
 of captive damsels, who had yielded on a pledge of 
 mercy, which her mother had not deigned to keep. 
 She could not close her ear on tales of Jews being 
 burnt, and Moors being sold for slaves ; for such 
 events were called by those about her court the 
 highest gloiy of her mother's reign. 
 
 4. Yet, in the beauty of their home, and in tlie 
 hmdscapes wliicli surround that home, there lay a 
 means of education for the royal children better than 
 the monks .nnd friars could give. They lived with 
 nnture, and tlicy i'cd on art. Of all the structures 
 which adorned this earth, tlie home of Catharine 
 stood the first in physicrd l)eauty. To lier right 
 and left, tlu- eye ran out on gracious lines.
 
 CHAP. III. — AT THE ALHAMBRA. 149:3. 249 
 
 Below the tower of the Comares, on the pole of 
 which a cross had now replaced the crescent, spread 
 a scene that an Arabian poet had extolled beyond 
 the valley of Damascus. Here the snow-line of the 
 great sierras gave a hint of Lebanon. There the 
 vega flowed through orchards, vineyards, gardens all 
 but tropical in form and tint. The courts and alleys 
 at her feet were perfect. As she strolled about 
 the labyrinths of her palace, she could catch the 
 jet and flash of fountains ; peep from the purple 
 gloom of Abd-allah's hall into the fiery noon-tide 
 of the Court of Lions ; breathe her evening hymn 
 from the ventana of Zoraya ; look into the dark 
 ravines, made musical in their leafy shadows by the 
 Darro ; train her vine-shoots through the fretwork 
 of innumerable balconies ; reach at orange and 
 pomegranate, as the fruit hung burning from her 
 garden wall ; and in the moments when a rarer spirit 
 touched her fancy, she could dally with the secrets 
 of the Moorish arch, and catch a meaning in those 
 arabesques w^hich clothed her walls with services of 
 prayer and praise. 
 
 5. The Queen, her mother, seemed to love the 
 Alhambra better than her palace in Toledo and her 
 Castle on the Mount. She built a row of sheds 
 within the garden for her brethren, the Franciscans, 
 in whose chapel she proposed to lay lier dust. 
 Granada was her trophy, and the people of Granada 
 had no public rights. As ruler of the Caliphate she
 
 250 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GEANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 was fz'ee from charter, privilege, and fundamental 
 pact. But she was conscious that her conquest 
 must be held as it was won — by sleepless watch 
 and curb of military force. Though bridled, an 
 inflammable people filled the streets and squares. 
 The roughs who had so often stormed the palace 
 might renew their riot ; and beyond the ridge, now 
 called the Last Sigh of the Moor, a mountain 
 tract extended towards the sea, in which an active 
 and despairing remnant of the Moslems stood 
 entrenched. The princes of Granada, owners of the 
 palaces beneath her eyes, had locked theu' doors 
 and carried off their keys, believing that a time 
 must come when the Compassionate would relent 
 Him of his anger, and the Moslem chivalry would 
 swarm once more through the vermilion gates. 
 The victors had to watch and pra}'- ; to keep such 
 watch as steels the nerve, to breathe such prayer 
 as sears and numbs the heart. 
 
 G. In such a school the girl could learn but 
 little of that world in which on marrying she would 
 have to live. King Henry wished her to be taught 
 a little French ; the language of his court and 
 houseliold ; ]jut her Spanish and Italian tutors 
 could not teach her French. Tlie brethren of St. 
 Dominic hated France ; for French theology, as 
 tauglit at Paris, was a liljeral science, whicli those 
 bretlireu called the froth of hell. Nor were the 
 brcLluen of St. Francis gracious towards the French.
 
 CHAP. III. — AT THE ALHAMBRA. 1493. 251 
 
 A friar of Toledo looked upon his brother of the Sor- 
 bonne as a lewd and tipsy fool. All liberal 
 thought and liberal speech were banished from the 
 court. To thrum a lute, to sing a ballad, to recite 
 a prayer, to work an altar-cloth, were safe and 
 useful things, and Catharine's sisters, when they 
 passed into the world as queens and duchesses, knew 
 but little else. A woman of her country had no call 
 to be a learned clerk. Her duty was to find a good 
 confessor, and commit her soul to him. He was to 
 answer for her. AVhen she gave her soul to him, 
 as she might give her body to a leech, she had 
 no more to do than follow his advice, and leave the 
 burden in his arms. ' Confess to a man, ' wrote Fray 
 Andreas to her sister, 'who keeps his rule, who has 
 not a pin of his own, and to whom your highness 
 can give nothing, and show no favour — only to the 
 convent in which he lives.' A good confessor for a 
 princess must be an observant friar. ' He only,' 
 added Fray Andreas, 'can give a good account of 
 your soul to God.' But if Catharine knew but 
 little of the world, she knew still less of the 
 mysterious isle in which her lot was cast. She 
 never saw an English face ; she rarely heard an 
 English word. Prince Arthur was to her a name, 
 a shade, a dream. Her light to bear his title was 
 in doubt. The ladies of her household gave her 
 many titles : Dona Catalina, Senora Infanta, Senora 
 of Spain, Princess of England, Princess of Wales :
 
 252 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 but no one title seemed her own beyond the rest. 
 Her sisters were engaged and disengaged as war 
 and peace decided Spain to seek alliances with 
 Austria, Portugal, or France. Even Padre Ales- 
 sandro could not tell his pupil to what country she 
 might have to go as queen; or, if she went to 
 England, of what monarch she might have to be 
 the bride.
 
 253 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A ROSE OF YORK. 
 
 1493-4. 
 
 1. Granada being secured, the King rode up to 
 Barcelona, where the state of public feeling, and 
 the treaty of the Pyrenees, required his instant care. 
 A crazy patriot, Juan de Canamares, took upon 
 himself the mission of revenge, and stabbed the 
 King in open day. This crime restored Fernando 
 to a share of public favour. Many of the grandees 
 of his kingdom rode to pay him court ; the cities 
 hastened to denounce the regicide ; and for a season 
 both the King and Queen enjoyed some breath of 
 popular applause. A little softened by his pain and 
 by the public cheer, Fernando rode to Zaragoza, 
 where, in his ancestral home, the Aljaferia, sur- 
 rounded by his knights and nobles, he proposed 
 to rest until his wound should heal. 
 
 2. While Isabel was nursing him at Barcelona, 
 she received a letter from a man whose signature 
 was that of Bichard, Duke of York. This letter, 
 well conceived and finely penned, implored the 
 Queen to lend the writer help in the recovery of his
 
 254 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 crown. He told her, briefly, that his brother Ed- 
 ward, King of England, had been murdered in the 
 Tower ; that he himself had been delivered to a 
 ruffian to be killed ; that the assassins, having 
 pity on his youth, had spared his life ; that they 
 had sworn him on the bread and wine to keep the 
 secret of his birth ; that they had sent him over 
 sea m company of two warders, who had hidden 
 him in Portugal ; and that, on hearing how his 
 uncle, Gloucester, had been slam in battle, he had 
 sailed for Cork, where he had instantly been recog- 
 nised as Edward's son. What followed, as he told 
 the Queen his story, had been no less striking 
 than these opening scenes. Ormonde and Kildare, 
 his kinsmen, had received him as a prince. The 
 King of France had asked him to his court, and 
 after testing him by many proofs, had ofi^ered to 
 assist him with a fleet and army to regain his 
 father's crown. But since the King made peace 
 with the usurper, the Duke of York had ceased 
 to lean on France, though Charles was still his 
 brother and his friend. On (putting Paris he had 
 gone to Mechlin, where his amit, the Duchess 
 Margaret, held her court. The Duchess took him to 
 her heart, and certified his royal birth. Tlie Emperor 
 had recognised him as King Edward's son. Philip, 
 Archduke of Austria, Frederick, Duke of Saxony, 
 Hans, King of Denmark, and James, King of Scots, 
 all recognised in him King Edward's son. The King 
 of Scots had taken up his cause, and many of the
 
 CHAP. IV. — A ROSE OF YORK. 1493-4. 25.5 
 
 English lords were only waiting for a sign to rise in 
 his behalf. Since Isabel was of his blood, and was a 
 just and pious queen, he prayed her to have pity on 
 his youth, to plead his misery with Fernando, and 
 to aid him in his contest with that Earl of Rich- 
 mond who had seized his lawful crown. The writer 
 was prepared to offer, in return for help, a true and 
 faithful treaty with the King and Queen of Spain. 
 3. The writer of this letter was a youth of noble 
 presence and accomplishments ; so like King Edward 
 tha.t his face was ' as a magnet to the partizans of 
 York.' Two tales were told of him while he was 
 yet alive ; and Henry, somewhat eai-ly in his venture, 
 gave his countenance to the first of these imaginary 
 tales. In this account, the youth is born in Tournai, 
 on the river Scheldt ; a Fleming, one of Duchess 
 Margaret's subjects ; son of Hans Osbek, a petty 
 officer in the town. His folk are bailiffs, water- 
 men, collectors, and the like ; all poor and needy 
 people, struggling for their daily crust. His name 
 is Peter, which the neighbours change to Peterkin 
 and Perkin. Though a lad of lowly birth, he hopes 
 to make a figure ; so he drops by boat to Antwerp, 
 and from Antwerp sails by ship to London, and in 
 London lives as servant to a Jew. This Jew, a con- 
 vert from his faith, is known to Edward the Fourth, 
 who is good enough to stand his sponsor, and bestow 
 on him his royal name. Here Perkin sees the King, 
 and has the means of catchincf all those tricks of 
 eye and tones of voice which afterwards make the
 
 256 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 partisans of York declare him to be Edward's son. 
 He sails for Portugal, wliere he serves a one-eyed 
 knight, until he leaves with Pregent Menou, a 
 Breton trader, who conveys him into Ireland, where 
 he first declares himself to Walters, Mayor of Cork. 
 
 4. A second story was invented later on, in order 
 to account for facts which Heniy's story leaves un- 
 touched. This second tale is French in origin, and 
 is sustained by documents under Charles's royal 
 seal. According to this French report, the Duke 
 of York is born a Portuguese. His father is a 
 barber, carrying on his trade in Lisbon ; and the man 
 called Perkin Warbeck is that barber's boy. The 
 youth has wandered up and down the world, and 
 picked up many arts and tongues. He is a clever lad, 
 but cannot cheat a parent's eyes. The Lisbon barber 
 is alive, and willing to appear against his son. The 
 barber's wife is also living, and is ready to denounce 
 her child. These facts, the French declare, have been 
 investigated by the king-at-arms in Lisbon, and the 
 King of France is ready to produce his proofs — if 
 only Henry, in return, will give up Spam and act 
 in concert with the French. How any Lisbon 
 barber came to bear the name of Warbeck is not 
 mentioned in this French account. 
 
 5. A tliird and merrier story lightens modern 
 books ; a story penned by Bacon in a mood that 
 would have made Fernando laugh and Henry swear. 
 Ill liacon's romance, Perkiji is a sort of Ariel, who 
 can float and ily, and daze men's eyes by magic
 
 CHAP. IV. — A ROSE OF YORK. 1493-4. 2.37 
 
 arts ; a youth of such ' fine shape and form/ and of 
 such ' crafty and bewitching fashion/ that he acts 
 like *a kind of fascination and enchantment to 
 those who saw and heard him.' Perkin is the 
 son of Osbek, but this Osbek is himself the Jew. 
 A pretty wife — as fair as Mistress Shore — entices 
 Edward to her husband's house. She bears a son, 
 and Edward the Fourth is sponsor to the child. 
 Her boy is christened Peter, which is afterwards cor- 
 rupted into Perkin. Jests are made about the pretty 
 Jewess and the merry King. The child is called 
 King Edward's god-son, and in spoit Kmg Edward's 
 son. These jests and sports take form in Peter's 
 brain. He shapes the plan of an imposture. Bacon 
 thinks he may have been King Edward's offspring 
 by the pretty Jewess, and would thus account for 
 a resemblance which the hottest enemies of the 
 youth could not deny. 
 
 6. This romance, which arose from some mistakes 
 of name and place, was just as true as Charles's 
 tale. One man could tell the truth. Were both 
 the princes slain by Tyrrell and his comrades? 
 Tyrrell was alive. How had this murderer of his 
 prince escaped the gallows ? He had got a pardon 
 from the Duke of Gloucester! Henry was not slow 
 to execute the law on other sinners who could 
 plead a pardon by the fallen prince. Was Tyrrell 
 master of some secret which the Tudor kuvj; was 
 forced to buy ? Instead of hanging Tyrrell, Henry 
 had promoted him to offices of trust. The regicide 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 was a knight of the King's body, and enriched by 
 many a royal gift. Henry had made Tyrrell Sheriff 
 of Glamorganshire for life, Chancellor of that shire 
 for life, and Steward of that shire for life. Henry 
 had made him Captain of the fort at Guisnes ; had 
 made him Constable of Cardiff Castle ; had given 
 him the appointment of Chief Forester of a county, 
 with the power of naming all the coroners and 
 clerks. Why was this murderer taken into so much 
 grace ? Guisnes was an important post, and Cardiff 
 also an important post. Had he a tale to tell which 
 Henry feared to hear? A second man could also 
 tell the truth Where was that Breton trader, 
 Pregent Menou, who had brought the prince from 
 Portugal to Cork ? If not in Henry's closet, he was 
 certainly within his reach. Was he invited to 
 reveal the facts within his knowledge ? Was he 
 brouii'lit before a magistrate and asked to state the 
 details of his life on oath ? Not once. Instead of 
 being induced to speak, Menou was silenced by 
 the King, and when the time for his reward had 
 come, tlie man was paid in money and a place of 
 trust. 
 
 7. When Isabel received that letter from the 
 Duke of York, slie thought his story true. Slie had 
 some means of testing liiin, especially on his life 
 in Portugal; and iioiliiiig to be learnt in Lisbon 
 tended to })roducc a change of mind. Among the 
 papers at Sniiancas, wliicli were once (lie secrets 
 of her closet, is a key to certain Latin numerals
 
 CHAP. IV. — A ROSE OF YORK. J 493-4. 259 
 
 used by her and by her husband in their cyphers. 
 Every royal person has a number to his name. 
 The Pope, the Emperor, the Kings of France 
 and England, have their numbers ; each in order 
 of his rank, as he was measured in the court of 
 Spain. The Duchess Margaret has a number, and 
 Ferdinando, King of Naples, has a number. None 
 but royal persons have a number in this key. A 
 note explains that other persons of distinction, not of 
 reigning houses, are included in a second key. Among 
 the royal names is that of E-ichard, Duke of York ; 
 his place between Duchess Margaret, his aunt, and 
 Ferdinando, King of Naples. Such a record is 
 decisive. Let the youth who signed that name 
 be either Osbek, Warbeck, or Plantagenet, the 
 King and Queen then living in the Aljaferia thought 
 he was King Edward's son. 
 
 8. Yet Isabel, to whom this letter opened an 
 abyss, was slow to pledge herself. If Richard, Duke 
 of York, should get his own, he would require a 
 wife ; and Catharine, her youngest daughter, must 
 be queen, whoever was the English king. But 
 Pvichard had not tried his strength, as yet ; and 
 till he proved his mettle she must keep herself 
 unpledged. She therefore wrote a note to Duchess 
 Margaret (meant for Richard's eye), expressing all the 
 feelings of her heart towards the unhappy prince, 
 and offering him, as one of her own blood, the 
 tenderest friendship and the best support.
 
 260 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 INVASION OF KENT. 
 1495. 
 
 1. Three years the titular Duke of York had 
 lived in royal courts ; the court of Charles, the 
 court of Margaret, the court of Max ; and neither 
 in his speech and gait, nor in his family alFau's, 
 had he betrayed himself If he were acting, men 
 had never seen an actor like him since the world 
 began, A mayor of Cork, like Walters, might be 
 fooled by tricks of speech, but Max and Charles 
 were born in purple, and could hardly be misled by 
 a comedian. Max and Charles had means of finding 
 out, and having much to gain or lose through him, 
 they are not likely to have left these means untried. 
 The young man lived in Margaret's house. She was 
 his aunt, and she had seen him in his youth. Yet 
 Margaret never varied in her strong conviction that 
 he was her brother's son. It may be true, as 
 Henry's scribes gave out, that she disliked the 
 Englisli King and wished to cast him out ; but if 
 a base pretender were to gain the crown, she would 
 be also casting out the line of York — her niece the 
 reigning Queen ; her oth(>r nieces, sisters of that
 
 CHAP. V. — INVASION OF KENT. 1495. 2G1 
 
 reigning Queen ; her nephew, Edward Plantagenet ; 
 her nephew, Edmond de la Pole ; her daughter's 
 children, Philip and Marguerite ; and, last of all, 
 herself. She could not aid a counterfeit duke 
 without deposmg all her kith and kin. Unless 
 it can be shown that Margaret was insane, she 
 must be taken as a witness to the fact. If Mar- 
 garet knew the man as an impostor, she was 
 doing her utmost to unseat her niece, to set aside 
 her nephews, and to dis})ossess the house of York, 
 in order that a rogue, a peasant, and a stranger, 
 might enjoy her brother's throne. If she was not 
 an honest witness she was nothing but a crazy fool. 
 What fact in her career permits a man of sense to 
 brand her as a crazy fool ? In writing to the Pope, 
 she dwelt on her affinity with Richard, Duke of 
 York. He was her brother's son, her nephew, and 
 her liege. His face, his voice, were evidence to her 
 eyes and ears. She could not be mistaken, she de- 
 clared, in one who stood so near to her in blood. 
 
 2. A dozen princes saw him, spoke with him, 
 and judged him ; from the crafty Charles of France 
 to the chivalrous James of Scotland ; yet in every 
 court of Europe his appearance and his story were 
 approved. Fine ladies listened to his talk, and 
 found in every sentence from his hps a secret 
 charm. Soft, winsome, witty, he engaged all hearts. 
 The mayor of Cork no sooner saw his face than 
 he became a convert to his cause for life and death. 
 Kildare and Desmond were not louder in his praise
 
 262 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 than artizans and kernes. A sort of royal gift lie 
 had ; a grace to work on kings and princes even 
 more than on the common herd of men. The Arch- 
 duke Philip loved him as an elder brother. Max 
 regarded his affairs as more important than the 
 business of his empire. Though a Diet was pro- 
 claimed, and though a hundred princes, dukes, 
 and cardinals were assembling, Max could find no 
 time to meet them. ' Richard, King of England,' 
 was, he said, * about to sail,' and Max being busy 
 ■with that great event, his princes, dukes, and 
 cardinals must wait. 
 
 3. Ten years ago, two thousand men had sailed 
 from Normandie and won the English crown. A 
 second venture was about to sail from Flanders, 
 where the Rose of York was gathering ships and 
 men. His object was the Irish coast, where he 
 could count on friends in every town. His father, 
 Edward the Fourth, had made him Lord Lieutenant 
 of Ireland. Gloucester, a usurper, could not cancel 
 that appointment ; Riclnnond, also a usurper, could 
 not cancel that appointment. Walters was the mayor 
 of Cork, and Walters was prepared to die for him. 
 But while his ships were loading stores and guns, 
 intelligence from Dover led him to believe that he 
 might march on London from a nearer base. He 
 heard that Kent was full of Yorkist peers ; these 
 peers were all his p;n-ti/.;u)s ; ;ind ho had but to show 
 himself on slioif. A d.isli was therefore to be made 
 at Deal. His \(Mitui'e drained the riff-raff of a dozen
 
 CHAP. V. IXVASIOX OF KENT. 1495. 263 
 
 ports, and Max, who had not ceased to hate the 
 Tudor prince, was certain that the Duke would A\'in 
 his kingdom. Max was Emperor now; as Emperor, 
 he recognised the ' King ; ' as Emperor he made a 
 treaty with him. Max agreed to help the ' King ' 
 with men, and Richard promised to assist the Em- 
 peror in disturbing France. When York was King 
 of England, there should be merry times in Nor- 
 mandie and Maine. The days of Crecy would return, 
 and Max, then resting in a dubious state at Worms, 
 might sleep securely on the Rhme. But in his idle 
 hurry, Max forgot to send the promised aid. 
 
 4. A fleet of ships was hired and troops were 
 put on board. The Duchess paid her money, and 
 the Kaiser's lancei's were expected. Margaret wrote 
 to Borgia, as the man of God, the soul of justice, 
 praying him to do her nephew right ; and the more 
 worldly Max desired his agents in the Papal couii: 
 to hint that Richard was a better friend to Rome 
 than Henry. Borgia waited for events ; in truth, 
 all Europe waited for events. The hour of words 
 was past ; the world had judged the Rose of York. 
 From Rome to Stirling, from Granada to Vienna, 
 there was not one reigning prince who deemed 
 the Duke of York a cheat. But Henry had some 
 talent for the field. Was Richard his superior in 
 the art of war ? Had he the science which com- 
 mands success ? With fifteen hundred men at arms, 
 and five hundred seamen of all o-rades on board, the 
 Pretender ran out to sea, and put these questions to
 
 264 BOOK Y. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 the proof. No one had yet forgotten how a little 
 fleet ran out of Harfleur, just ten years ago, and 
 what had come of her adventure. Margaret had 
 relays of couriers at her palace gates, and Philip had 
 despatches sent to him by day and night. In Stirling 
 every one was shouting for a border raid, and James, 
 in hope of picking up some beeves and horses, if no 
 richer spoil, led out his warriors to the Tweed. At 
 Worms the Kaiser was elate with joy. ' We enter- 
 taii great hope,' he said to Contarini, ' that the 
 Duke of York, when he has gained his kingdom, 
 will attack the French. We have his promise to 
 that end.' In Eno-land there w^as neither fear nor 
 
 O 
 
 joy ; but close, sedate, and pregnant measures of 
 defence. A few hot tongues were wagging here 
 and there in favour of the House of York ; but 
 years of peace and settled law, the Queen's devo- 
 tion to her consort, and the birth of princes who 
 combined the rival claims, induced the sober part 
 of England to accept existing facts. Whatever flaw 
 was in the reigning King, would disappear when 
 Arthur came to wear his crown. A Rose of York 
 meant civil war, and even a successful war meant 
 years of desolating strife. A party of the House of 
 York would raise a party of the House of Lancaster. 
 New Wakefields and St. Albans might be fought, 
 and at tlie end of forty years a second Bosworth 
 might uncrown the reigning King. Meantime all 
 growth woidd be disturbed, all law would be sus- 
 jjended. Force and wantonness would riot through
 
 CHAP. V. — INVASION OF KENT. 1495. 265 
 
 the land. A man who honestly believed that Richard 
 was the Duke of York might well deny his right to 
 ravage England for his personal gain. No grinding 
 tyranny drove men to despair. The King was fond 
 of money, and his minister Empson was unpopular in 
 the shires ; but on the whole his people were content 
 to eat and sleep, and cultivate their fields in peace. 
 With all his faults of origin, he had one advantage 
 over every Yorkist prince. His child was Welsh, 
 and in his rise the Welsh were reconciled to English 
 rule. It was a first step towards a union of the 
 various tribes on British ground. In Arthur, York 
 and I^ancaster were wedded, and his reign would 
 be a second step towards unity. A people weary 
 of domestic broils was ready to support the King, 
 without inquiring fiir hito the legal right. Even 
 those who wavered were inclined to cast their lot 
 with Henry when they heard that Kichard was sup- 
 ported by the King of Scots. Aware of what was 
 passing, Heiny gave his orders and departed for 
 the north. He knew the Kaiser and the King of 
 Scots, and set his main array against the Stuart 
 prince. 
 
 5. Misled by false reports, the Rose of York pro- 
 posed to land near Deal, to seize that town, and 
 march on Walmer Castle, as a camp in which to rally 
 the adherents of his house. All Kent was waiting, 
 he believed, to welcome him ; and he had only to 
 unfurl his flag in order to possess the shire. Off 
 Deal, he moored his fleet, and sent some com-
 
 266 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 panles of Dutch and Spanish troops on shore, with 
 
 orders to advance on Wahner, occupy the to^^'n, 
 
 and throw out pickets on the London road. When 
 
 all was safe, he was himself to land. No one 
 
 opposed the strangers as they took the beach, 
 
 though many lads in smocks, who earned bills and 
 
 hooks, were seen about the fields. ' AVho were 
 
 they ? ' asked these lads in smock. ' Friends of the 
 
 House of York ! ' ' What knights and peers were 
 
 with them V When the strangers pushed these lads 
 
 aside, they shoved and swore at them in turn. 
 
 More lads in smocks with English bills and hooks 
 
 ran down the cliffs. A general fight came on. No 
 
 other strangers landed, but the Rose of York, who 
 
 stood in readiness to come on shore, could see his 
 
 troops in mail contending on the beach with lads in 
 
 smocks. The lads seemed led by men who understood 
 
 their work. An hour or more the strangers held 
 
 their ground; but every house in Deal seemed full 
 
 of bills and hooks ; and after figliting stiffly for a 
 
 time, the foreign troops were broken, captured, and 
 
 destroyed. Some squads were either piked to death 
 
 or pushed into the sea ; but when tlie wrecks were 
 
 gathered into line, a hundred and sixty prisoners 
 
 answered to the call and gave their names. These 
 
 names were chiefly Spanish, and the lesson of their 
 
 capture was a bitter one for Spain. But England 
 
 was in no light mood of mind. Her peace had been 
 
 disturbed ; her soil had been profaned. She meant 
 
 to tell free lancers of all nations what they had
 
 CHAP. V. — INVASION OF KENT. 1495. 267 
 
 to face by landing in an Englisli shire. The pri- 
 soners, roped in gangs, were inarched from Deal to 
 London, with a hangman at their side, who bared 
 their backs, and whipped them as they limped and 
 groaned along the dusty roads. In London, they 
 were tried as pirates, and condemned to hang in 
 chains. One batch was strung on Dover cliff; a 
 second batch was strung on Harwich sands; and 
 eveiy fort and nose of land in front of Flanders was 
 adorned with German and Castillian bones. 
 
 6. Much cowed in spirit, the Pretender set his 
 compass for the Irish coast, where lie expected to 
 be welcomed with a burst of frantic joy. The Irish 
 were his earliest friends, and Ireland was devoted 
 to the House of York. The citizens of Cork were 
 faithful, and his warmest partizan, John Walters, 
 was in office. Yet, the King was well prepared for 
 him in County Cork. Prince Henry, five years 
 old, had been appointed Lord Lieutenant, with Sir 
 Edward Poynings as his deputy, and Father Henry 
 Deane as chancellor. Edward Poynings was a soldier, 
 and the deputy of Calais. Henry Deane was an 
 Augustine monk, a man of venerable aspect, and the 
 Prior of Llanthonia in Wales. Each in his several 
 office was a man of high capacity and perfect trust. 
 An English army had been sent with Poynings, and 
 an English bench had followed Deane. The whole . 
 administration had been placed in English hands. A 
 new treasurer, a new chief justice, a new chief baron, 
 were appointed. These judicious officers had curbed
 
 268 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 tlie Yo]'kist peers and crushed the restless kernes. 
 No fuss M^as shown ; but every man was in liis place. 
 Sir Robert Cotton stood to sea with a considerable 
 fleet. Henry Wyat had the musters out for drill. 
 Kildare had been removed, and that so craftdy, 
 that no one, even among his Irish tenants, pitied 
 him. He was a prisoner of the Church ! 
 
 7. An Irish j)arliament having voted him a trai- 
 tor to his sovereign, Poynings might have seized 
 him as a prisoner of the State ; but Father Henry, 
 whose capacity for secular business was astonish- 
 ing, contrived that he should seem to be a prisoner 
 of the Church. John Payne, the bishop of Meath, 
 had been the Irish cliieftain's early friend. They 
 had been out with Simnel ; Payne having preached 
 the coronation sermon at Christ Church, while Kil- 
 dare was raising armies to support the Pose of York. 
 When Payne received a pardon, he had gone to 
 London, where he sought and gained a pardon for 
 his still more guilty mate. Some Irish feud had 
 parted these old plotters, whose dislike had now 
 become as fervid as their love had formerly been 
 warm. Kildare had tried to kill the bishop. One 
 day he had set a church on lire, and many persons 
 fancied he had done so in tlie hope that Payne 
 was in the cliurch. Another day he followed Payne 
 into liis cliancel, loud in oath and sword in ]iand. 
 Payne dropt upon liis knee before an altar, and 
 the furious Earl exclaimed, ' By St. Bridget, were 
 it not for fear my prince would be offended with
 
 CHAP. V. — INVASION OF KENT. 140 J. 2G9 
 
 me, I would lay tins sword across yonr shaven pate.' 
 Kildare laid hands on Payne, and carrying liini to 
 his castle, kept him prisoner, till the deputy, Poyn- 
 inofs, called for his release. Kildare consented to 
 release the bishop, but insisted on the promise of 
 a pardon. Treating faithless men with faithless mea- 
 sures, Poynings sent Kildare a promise, got him into 
 Dublin, seized him in the dead of night, and put- 
 ting him on board a bark, despatched him into 
 England as a man accused of sacrilege. Payne had 
 to follow him as witness, and the Yorkist peer and 
 Yorkist prelate were detained in London till the 
 King could find a day to hear their case. The 
 bishop was received at court ; Kildare was lodged 
 for safety in the Tower. A personal fevid, the right 
 or wrong of which no tongue could tell, had left the 
 partizans of York without their secular and spiritual 
 chiefs. 
 
 8. No blaze of fire along the Irish hills gave 
 signals for the foreign troops to land. At every port 
 an English cross was floating in the wind. In every 
 cove and inlet watch was kept. In eveiy shire the 
 musters were at drill. Kildare and Payne being 
 gone, no Yorkist peer but Desmond was prepared 
 to take a leading part. Kildare was hostage for the 
 Butlers and O'Briens, no less than for the Geraldines. 
 Payne, too, was in the tyrant's power. The factions 
 seemed to lie beneath a spell. A country filled with 
 Yorkist peers and knights could hardly trail a pike, 
 or even raise a shout for ' Bichard !' when he came
 
 270 BOOK V. — CATHAEIXE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 to them acknowledged by his aunt, supported by the 
 Kaiser and the King of Scots, and favoured in their 
 secret councils by the Kings of France and Spain. 
 Unable to advance by way of Cork, an inland city, 
 the Pretender listened to advice. John Walters had 
 not cooled in zeal, and Desmond was prepared to risk 
 his life. But where were they to strike a blow? 
 Suppose they made a dash at Waterford ? It was a 
 royal burgh ; a gateway opening up the country ; and 
 the nearest port to Milford Haven. Waterford in 
 their hands would be a tower of strength. Here 
 Henry the Second had descended when he came to 
 take possession of the isle. But nine miles from the 
 sea, Waterford was easily approached by sea. Their 
 friends from Cork could help in the assault by land. 
 All parties joined in this advice. Desmond and 
 Walters were to storm the gates, while the Pretender 
 forced a passage up the Suir.
 
 271 
 
 CHAPTEE YI. 
 
 AN IMPOSTOR ! 
 
 1495. 
 
 1. This failure fortified the throne on every side. 
 Let Duchess Margaret either rail or weep, her grand- 
 son Pliilip had to make some show of friendship for 
 his able and offended neighbour. Never doubting 
 that the Rose of York was Margaret's nephew, Philip, 
 was prepared to help his cousin at the proper season ; 
 but he owed some duty to his Flemish states, as 
 well as to the House of York. A Duke in Bruges 
 and Ghent, he had to study how he was to live 
 in peace with one who had the power to injure 
 Bruges and Ghent, Bestrictions had been placed 
 by Henry on the trade with Flanders, and restric- 
 tions on the Flemish trade was ruin to the shippers, 
 bankers, and craftsmen of his towns. Nor was he safe 
 from more direct attacks. An English fleet stood on 
 and off his coasts ; an English army lay at Calais, 
 Guisnes, and Hamme. A Kaiser might indulge in 
 sneers at Henry, for a King of England could not 
 .send his fleet , to Worms and Spires; but Henrys 
 ships were visible from Flushmg; and a neighbour
 
 272 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 who had troops at Guisnes and fleets off Flushing 
 might become a dangerous ally to his factious 
 citizens in Bruges. The King of Scots, now pressed 
 beyond the Tweed, beheld himself alone, with all 
 the troops of England in his front. He sought re- 
 lief in Margaret Drummond's smiles ; but bonny 
 Margaret Drummond could not witch away the 
 English horse and foot. James tried to soothe the 
 English court, and Henry, ever prudent, was m- 
 clining towards a policy of peace and union with the 
 Scots. The seeds of an idea which were soon to 
 bear much fruit were sprouting in his mind. Even 
 Max himself, though he would bate no jot of bis 
 belief that Richard was King Edward's son, con- 
 sented to receive Sir John Egi-emont as the usurper's 
 envoy, and to treat with him about a league — a 
 league which was of much concern to Max and 
 Germany — against the King of France, 
 
 2. In spite of all his sister's warnings, Charljes 
 had led his armies through the Alps, and, strange to 
 say, an enterprise which every one had called a 
 crazy act, had opened with a blaze of glory and 
 success. The state of Italy, where almost every 
 city was at feud with lier immediate neighbour, 
 and the cliief republics were at variance witli the 
 Holy See, had favoured Charles, Dynastic struggles 
 dyed the streets of Florence, Milan, and Perugia, 
 with civic blood. Home was quarrelling with 
 Naples. Genoa was at strife within herself. Pisa 
 had Ijcen overthrown by war ; Siena had been over*-
 
 CHAP. VI.— AN IMPOSTOR i 1495. 273 
 
 thrown by peace. The princes were mtriguing to 
 destroy each other, and tlie Church was strugglhig 
 to annex their states. Pietro de Medici had sio-ned 
 a secret treaty with the King of Naples. Lodovico 
 il Moro had contracted an alHance with the Doofe 
 of Venice and the Pope of Pome. Savonarola, the 
 Dominican, had begun to call for his Peform, and 
 point the moral of his sermons by referring to the 
 scandalous conduct of his spiritual chief. Loud voices 
 called upon the French to intervene, some patriots 
 even begged the Turks to save the country from her- 
 •self The King of France had answered to their call. 
 Descending from the Alps, as friends of every cause, 
 the French had entered Florence, Pome, and Naples. 
 Italy had fallen at their feet, and Charles, who 
 panted for another world to conquer, had begun to 
 throw his glances into Greece. French agents were 
 already in the isles, and Charles, puffed out with 
 sudden vanity, assumed to be as much the lord of 
 Athens as he was of Pome. The Doa^e of Venice 
 took alarm ; the King of Spain had still more cause 
 to be alarmed. As Duke of Athens, King of Sicily, 
 and heir of Naples, he had everything at stake. If 
 Charles should carry out his schemes of conquest, 
 Sicily would not be safe. Fernando broached the pro- 
 ject for a league of all the kingdoms and republics 
 menaced by the French ; a Holy League he called it, 
 since he meant to brand the French as enemies of 
 the Catholic Church. These kingdoms and republics 
 were prepared. Illusions were no longer possible. 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 •274: BOOK v. — CATHARIXE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 Instead of helping every one, as the Italians dreamt, 
 the French had only helped themselves. As city 
 after city opened to receive the strangei-s, she had 
 bitterly repented of her sin against the common- 
 weal. Plate, pictm-es, money, everything the 
 stranc»"ers wanted from a wealthy and artistic 
 conntiy, they had taken with imsparmg hand. 
 Italian causes had been left alone ; and nothing 
 had been done by Charles excepting for the pride 
 and o-ain of France. But soon the dav for flicrht 
 and perfidy had come. The Pope deserted Charles ; 
 then Lodovico turned against him. Barbarigo, Doge 
 of Venice, joined the league of princes. Kaiser Max 
 came in : for Max was threatened with a rival in 
 imperial rank. Charles wanted to be Emperor, and 
 since he coidd not take the style of Charles the 
 Great, he fancied he might take the style of Con- 
 stantine the Fourth. A throne, he said, was vacant. 
 Max was Emperor of the West ; Charles would be 
 Emperor of the East. But Max denied that any 
 throne was vacant ; he being Emperor both of West 
 and East. In wrath and haste a Holy League was 
 formed. Five signatures were appended ; those of 
 Rome, Germany, Spain, Venice, and Milan. Max 
 would only sign the articles on condition that his 
 colleagues styled liim Emperor of the East as well 
 as of the West. The Holy League being made, 
 Gonsalvo passed into Calabria, and began to press 
 the victors. Charles, abandoned by the princes he 
 had favoured and the cities he had plundered, rode
 
 CHAP. VI. — AN impostor! 1495. 275 
 
 into the north. He passed through Rome in silence; 
 and in Lombardy he ran against Italian pikes. French 
 gallantly preserved him in the field ; but every day 
 his hold on Italy was loosened ; and the fruits of 
 all his efforts were at stake. His troops were 
 fighting bravely, but the Frencb had no man in 
 the south to measure weapons with Gonsalvo. 
 Charles was wavering in his plans ; and Max was 
 thinking that if Henry could be drawn into the 
 Holy League, the French would have to call their 
 troops across the Alps. He would have gladly 
 done without this aid ; but France was so alert 
 and quick that he was never at his ease. He, 
 therefore, deigned to hear Sir John, although, more 
 knight than emperor, he could hardly tame his 
 tongue in presence of the English knight. 
 
 3. The Piose of York being gone, Kildare was 
 brought before the council, and Ms enemy Pavne, 
 the Irish bishop, was placed before him at the board. 
 'What say vou?' asked the Kino- 'Mv lieore/ 
 Kildare replied, 'the Bishop is a learned man, 
 which I am not, and therefore lie will easily outdo 
 me in the argument/ ' Then choose a counsel' said 
 the King. 'I doubt,' rejoined Kildare, 'if I shall 
 have the orood fellow whom I choose.' 'Bv mv 
 troth, you shall,' the King assured him ' Give me 
 your hand,' the Irish peer entreated. ' Here is my 
 hand,' said Henry, laughing ; ' when will you choose 
 your counsellor 1 ' ' Xever,' interposed the Irish 
 prelate: 'never, if he has his choice.' ' TLoii liest.
 
 276 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 brallagh, bald bisliop ! I will choose a counsellor as 
 soon as thou wouldst choose a fair wench, if thou 
 couldst have thy wish — witliin an hour.' The 
 council roared ; and Henry, turning to Kildare, 
 inquired, ' Can such a thing be true V 'By your 
 hand,' rephed Kildare, taking Henry by the palm, 
 ' there is not in London such a mutton-master as 
 yon shaven priest. I know him well.' * It is best 
 you choose your counsellor well,' said Henry; 'I 
 perceive he will have much to do.' ' Shall I choose 
 him now ? ' the Irish peer inquired. ' Yes ; if you 
 think good,' replied the King. Kildare assured him 
 he would have the best in England. *Aye, and 
 who is that ? ' cried Henry. ' Marry,' said Kildare, 
 'the King himself! and by St. Bridget I will 
 choose no other.' Henry broke into his winsome 
 laugh. ' A wiser man,' he whispered, ' might have 
 chosen worse.' Some witnesses deposed that he 
 had set a church on fire. 'I did it — that is true,' 
 he sighed ; ' but by my troth I woidd never have 
 done it, but I thought the bishop was in the 
 churcli.' The grey-beards at the council had to 
 hold tlieir sides. 'All Ireland,' murmured Payne, 
 'cannot rule this man.' 'Then let hhn rule all 
 Ireland,' laughed the King. And Henry meant in 
 earnest what he said in fun. Kildare was court- 
 ing Bessie St. John, Henry's cousin of the Beau- 
 cluuiip Mood ; ;iiid liaving won that lady's heart, 
 he married her, became a member of the royal circle, 
 and was chosen as the Prince's Deputy. Having
 
 CHAr. VI. — AN IMPOSTOR ! 1495. 277 
 
 made an English servant of the Irish peer, the Ki no- 
 had no more trouble with the Geraldines. 
 
 4. But more than all, a change was evident on 
 the side of Spain. AVhen Kichard was preparing 
 ships and men, the King and Queen of Spain had 
 felt so doubtful of the future that they sent for 
 Puebla, and proposed to cancel the agreement, and 
 declare the treaty as to Catharine at an end. To 
 them the Tudor king was nothing; to their daughter, 
 Arthur of Winchester was nothing. England was 
 the prize they sought. If prudence bade them wait 
 before they took so strong a step, they held a haughty 
 and exacting language at the English Court. A min- 
 ister of rank whom they had promised, in the room 
 of Puebla, was not sent. The cripple crossed the 
 sea, instructed to assume a haughty tone, and ask 
 for things that Henry could not grant. The King 
 was to be told that Spain had signed a separate 
 treaty with the French. He was to be reminded 
 of his duty to the Pope. He was to be informed 
 that Max was angry with him, and that Spain alone 
 could turn aside from him the Kaiser's ^vrath. The 
 Kaiser, he must learn, was King of Kings, and no 
 man was a King unless the Kaiser recognized his 
 rank. These proud beginnings had a more offensive 
 close. Should Henry speak of Catharine, Puebla 
 was to listen aiid report ; but he was not to say 
 one word implying that the articles of marriage were 
 in force. Those articles were not regarded by the 
 King and Queen of Spain as still in force. ' All
 
 278 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 former treaties are annulled/ Fernando wrote In his 
 instructions to his minister ; but feelmg that his pen 
 was giving an unwonted outline to his thought, he 
 blotted out the words, and left that minister to guess 
 his secret mind. 
 
 5. So long as the Pretender stood at sea Fer- 
 nando had been silent and reserved. No sio-n from 
 him enlightened Puebla, who had nothing but the 
 blotted hne, 'all former treaties are annulled/ to 
 guide him m his intercourse with Fox and Morton. 
 Innocence, as Puebla knew, would plead in vain 
 with either king or queen of Spain ; but the Pre- 
 tender was a single man, and if he won the cro^\Ti 
 he would require a bride. Though Isabel kept her 
 counsels, Heniy learnt that she was corresponding 
 with his rival, and he spoke to Puebla of her breach 
 of faitli. The Kaiser he could understand ; the 
 Kaiser was a son-in-law of Duchess Margaret ; his 
 children were conspicuous members of the House 
 of York ; but Isabel of Spain was a Lancastrian 
 princess, and was fighting with him in their com- 
 mon cause. His son was hers, her daugliter his ; 
 and to encourage Perkin was to rob their children 
 of a crown. The Queen had answered ciu'tly, that 
 she had not written to Iliin of York. 'El de 
 Ayorque' was a title hit upon by her. Tlie Kaiser 
 called his cousin Prince of York ;' tlie Frencli and 
 Flemings called hiui Duke of York; and Isabel 
 edged between these several styles. She recog- 
 nised liim as a member of the House of York
 
 CHAP. VI. — AN impostor! \496. 279 
 
 while she withheld from him the rank of Prince and 
 Duke. 
 
 6. But on the news of his defeat, the Queen 
 turned round at once. Let Eichard be as graceful 
 and as witty as a fairy prince, she saw that he 
 was wantino- in the first condition of success in arms. 
 He could not fight. His rival on the English throne, 
 although a man of peace, had shown some talent, and 
 his courage was beyond dispute. The King being 
 likely to maintain his ground, she must be prudent 
 in her speech, and less exacting in her tone. The 
 cripple was instructed to approach the King with 
 an assurance that his masters had not written to the 
 so-called Duke of York. If they had ^witten to the 
 Duchess Margaret, as the King complained, they 
 had but done so to inform her higliness that the 
 man she sheltered was a rogue. 
 
 7. All parties now began to court the prince 
 whose crown so many of them would have given to 
 ' him of York.' The Pope appointed Puebla his am- 
 bassador in London. Max sent over a commissioner 
 to treat about the Holy League, and Charles, intent 
 on winning sympathy for France, supplied his Por- 
 tuguese story of the Pose of York. Fernando could 
 not lag belund. On hearing of the stuft' sent over 
 by the French, he wi'ote to London that if Henry 
 wanted proofs about the barber, he could furnish 
 more and stronger evidence than the King of France. 
 He had the means for gettmg at all facts in Lis- 
 bon. 'We can send the King,' Fernando wrote
 
 230 BOOK V. CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 to Puebla, ' written evidence of many persons who 
 knew the boy ; among others, that of Ruy de 
 Soiisa, who hved in London during part of King 
 Edward's reign, and often at that period saw the 
 Duke of York.' Unhappily, these stories of the 
 Lisbon barber smote the tale already published by 
 the English council. If the youth were Portuguese, 
 he could not be a Fleming also. If his father 
 was a Lisbon barber, he was not a water-bailiff 
 at Tournai. Of two such stories one, at least, was 
 false, and Henry saw no reason to refute his former 
 tale. 
 
 8. A witness was secured in Pregent Menou, who 
 had brought the prince from Portugal to Cork. If 
 any other man than Tyrrell knew the truth about 
 him, Menou was that other man. Menou had been 
 with him in Lisbon ; Menou had presented him to 
 AValters, Mayor of Cork ; Menou had seen the whole 
 intrigue with Desmond and Kildare. If York were 
 an impostor, Menou could supply the proofs. If 
 York were a Plantagenet, Menou could do more 
 than any one alive, excepting Tyrrell, to supply the 
 proofs. In either case the Breton trader was a man 
 to gain. The King made haste to win his confi- 
 dence. He granted him three lumdred pounds in 
 gold ; he settled liim on Irish lands ; he gave him 
 letters of denization ; he enriclied him by a patent 
 for exporting wool. lie took the inan into his ser- 
 vice, and invested him with an important trust. A
 
 CHAP. VI. — AN impostor! 1495. 281 
 
 few months after the Pretender failed in Waterford, 
 Henry appointed Menou Constable of Carrickfergus 
 Castle. But he never called on him to tell the public 
 what he knew about the Eose of York.
 
 282 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE CHILD OF SIN. 
 
 1495-6. 
 
 1. While Isabel was waitino^ for events to 
 guide her as to Catharine, she was suddenly be- 
 reaved of her first councillor, the Cardinal of Spain. 
 She liked Mendoza, and in sickness made herself his 
 nurse. Being near him as he lay in pain, she learned 
 that in his trials he was haunted by the spectre 
 which had troubled her so long. That fair young 
 queen, whose mother they had killed, whose honour 
 they had stained, whose birthright they had filched, 
 whose person they had seized and thrust into a foreign 
 cell, was near tlie Cardinal in his latest hours on earth. 
 No blaze of tapers drove that phantom from his bed ; 
 nor coidd he die in peace till he had spoken with 
 the Queen, his partner in those unforgotten crimes. 
 He had repented of his evil deeds. Mendoza was 
 too good a man to dwell without remorse on all that 
 he had done. A schohir and a prelate, he had never 
 given his sympatliy to iiu^uisitors. If proud and 
 worldly, lie liad not been wanton in liis exercise of 
 powei', and he had made no war on learning and on' 
 learned men. But Isabel had lured liini from the
 
 CHAP. VII. — THE CHILD OF SIN. 1495-0. 283 
 
 path of duty to his lawful queen, and he had sold 
 his conscience for the empty name of Cardinal- King. 
 At length the inner voices rose and would be heard. 
 What price shall pay a man to lose his soul ? The 
 dying Cardinal begged the Queen to think of what 
 was past ; and, for the sake of his salvation and her 
 own, to study how she might undo the mischief they 
 had wroufifht. 
 
 2. Five years ago, the Cardinal had carried Dona 
 Isabel, the Child of Sin, to Portugal, and paid her 
 down to John the Perfect, as the wages of his 
 shame. Her nuptials had been splendid, but Affonzo, 
 who was younger than herself, had faded from the 
 presence of his gloomy bride. The Prmce had 
 passed away in early youth, and left no heir behind. 
 Jolm's dream of a united Spain was gone ; liis 
 house was childless ; and his sceptre would descend 
 upon a younger branch. He never rallied from 
 the blow. Some stings of conscience pricked him 
 when he thought of that fair woman — bone of his 
 own bone and flesh of his own flesh — whom he 
 had wronged to gratify the mistress of Castille. 
 He could not help but think of her, for in his deso- 
 late house, as well as in his angry capital, every 
 voice was crying that Aifonzo's early death was 
 nothing but a judgment of offended Heaven. A 
 curse had fallen on the kingdom, and a low and 
 sullen pride embittered all the intercourse of Por- 
 tugal with Spain. John sang no hymn of gladness 
 when Granada fell. He gave some pity to the noble
 
 284 BOOK Y. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 Moor, and granted an asylum to tlie persecuted Jew. 
 When Isabel insisted that the holy race should be 
 expelled from every part of Spain, the King of 
 Portugal, alike in protest and in policy, received 
 the fugitives in his towns and ports :■ — a great and 
 noble act,' which cancelled many of the errors of a 
 feeble life. Zacuto, the astronomer, became a friend 
 of Manoel, Duke of Beja, heir presumptive to the 
 thi'one. Aboab, the learned Rabbi, found a second 
 Israel in the states of John the Perfect. Many a 
 bitter tear was dried, and many a bleeding wound 
 was closed, by these concessions of the Portuguese ; 
 but every deed of mercy on the part of John 
 estranged him more than ever from the Queen of 
 Spain. 
 
 3. A widow in her bridal year, the Child of Sin 
 had come to Spain a worn and blighted creatiu'e — 
 blighted in her birth and in her marriage, and afraid 
 lest what so many tongues were saying of her hus- 
 band's death was true. She moped and moaned 
 about the court ; alarmed at her own shade ; averse 
 to either see or to be seen ; a living spectre in the 
 royal house. Mendoza saw his work undone. In- 
 stead of Portugal being linked with Spain, the 
 sovereigns and the people were at feud. A dying 
 man, Mendoza saw his life unrolled before his eyes. 
 The evil n\' his course was now too j)l;iiji. So far 
 as evil dcerls can be removed, he sought to have his 
 evil deeds removed. A dying priest, Mendoza urged 
 his old and favourite policy on the Queen. The
 
 CHAP. VIT. — THE CHILD OF SIN. 1495-6. 285 
 
 Excellenta miglit be married to her son. Don 
 Juan's consort miglit return to Spain, and re-ascend 
 her father's throne. Mendoza begged the Queen to 
 weigh his words — his final words to her on earth. 
 ' The good man wanders in his mind, and chatters 
 like an idiot,' she exclaimed, as her now penitent 
 partner passed into another world. 
 
 4. John the Perfect followed in Mendoza's wake. 
 No sooner was his son AfFonzo dead than he began 
 to pine away, and on his dying bed he, too, be- 
 came a victim of remorse. Mendoza's sin was on 
 his soul. Unable to endure the pangs of con- 
 science, he inquired for Manoel, Duke of Beja, his 
 successor. John and Manoel had been much es- 
 tranged. Distracted by Affonzo's death, the King 
 had striven to set the Duke aside ; but he had 
 failed to dispossess the lawful prince ; and when 
 his end was near, he sent for Manoel to his room. 
 Much talk the cousins held about the Excellenta. 
 John repented him of many things ; and begged 
 the Duke, as his successor on the throne, to help 
 in setting right the things which pressed so heavily 
 on his heart. But most of all he spoke about the 
 royal Nun. ' Let earthly passions tempt you as 
 they may, you seek to do Juana right,' he said ; 
 and in the hope of finding peace, the royal sinner 
 turned him to the wall and died. 
 
 5. A liberal prince, who bore in after years the 
 name of Fortunate, Manoel was in the pride of 
 youth and strength, and men of twenty-six are apt
 
 286 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 to pay scant heed to dying prayers. Wliile he was 
 Duke of Beja only, he had sought the hand of 
 Lady Anne, a younger sister of the Enghsh Queen ; 
 but Anne had Httle more to bring him than her 
 high descent and the incomparable beauty of her 
 race ; and when Affonzo died he saw witliin his 
 reach a greater prize. Affonzo's moping widow was 
 a prmcess of Castillo. Her brother was a feeble 
 lad, and if that feeble lad should die, the moping 
 widow would be Queen of Spain. To win her was 
 to win a crown, and what was more in Manoel's 
 eyes, the prospect of uniting Spain and Portugal 
 in one vast kingdom, reacliing from the Straits of 
 Hercules to the mountains of Navarre. But he 
 could only win that moping widow at a price ; the 
 price of doing, like John, a jailer's office towards 
 his cousin in her convent cell. His choice was 
 quickly made. He chose the path of profit and dis- 
 grace ; forgot the dying king's injunctions ; set a 
 double watch on Santa Clara ; and in asking for the 
 Child of Sin, assured her mother he had seen and 
 loved the princess when she was his nephew's 
 wife ! 
 
 0. Tlic moping widow was alarmed. At twenty- 
 five she was an aged female ; having lost the taste 
 of youth, and only wishing to devote her days to 
 prayer, beneath some convent roof. Even if her 
 heart could fill witli love, her uncle Manoel would 
 not ])e the man whom she could bear to wed. A 
 niece and uncle were forbidden by the law to marry.
 
 CHAP. VII. — THE CHILD OF SIN. 1495-6. 287 
 
 Thougli the Pope might grant a dispensation from 
 the penalties of sin, still sin would be committed, 
 and a woman of her birth and temper shrank from 
 such a course. Already she had too much sin to 
 bear. Nor was the Queen, her mother, less alarmed. 
 Too well she knew what Manoel sought ; too well 
 she knew that he would press his suit ; too well 
 she knew that if he urged her she would have to 
 yield. A man who held the Excellenta under 
 lock and key had Isabel and all her kingdoms 
 in his grasp. On seeing that the moping widow 
 would not marry, and that Manoel must be gained 
 some other way, the Queen proposed to send her 
 younger daughter, Dona Maria, to the court of 
 Lisbon. Maria was a younger and a prettier woman 
 than her sister; but the Kino^ of Portugal would 
 not take the younger and the prettier bride. Maria 
 was the youngest child but one. Three lives 
 already stood between her and the crown ; the 
 lives of Juan, Isabel, and Juana. Juan was a 
 pallid youth, now entering on his eighteenth year, 
 and pallid youths of eighteen are not sure to 
 fail. Isabel was hardly twenty-six, and moping 
 widows have been known to make a second choice. 
 Juana, now fifteen, was strong in frame as she 
 was brisk in mind. Whoever failed, JTiana seemed 
 a likely girl to live. Maria's chance of coming to 
 the crown was slight, and Manoel hoped to grasp 
 his prize at once. If Dona Isabel had been either 
 dead or under vows, he might have been content
 
 288 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 to take the second daughter, Fair Juana, as the 
 next in order to Don Juan, even though this second 
 daughter of the Queen was not a favourite of 
 Dominicans like the Child of Sin.
 
 289 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 FAIR JUANA. 
 1496. 
 
 1. JuANA, the most lovely, agile, and enlightened 
 of the royal sisters, was in high disfavour with 
 the brethren of St. Dominic. Juana was of other 
 mood than Isabel. Although she knelt at mass and 
 read her book of saints, she had no fancy for the 
 company of coarse and ignorant friars, and when 
 she listened to the homilies of Fray Andreas, her 
 confessor, it was often with a pouting and im- 
 patient face. .A beaming eye and baby ways were 
 in her favour ; but the Queen, her mother, listening 
 to the monks, grew angry with her wayward child ; 
 in whom she saw to her dismay a something of the 
 genius of her liberal brother and the beauty of her 
 uncrowned niece. Nor were her fears \vithout a 
 cause. Suppose her feeble son and moping daughter 
 were to fail ? Juana was the next in order of suc- 
 cession, and in course of nature would be Queen 
 of Spain. But how if the religious orders turned 
 against her ? Civil war would start afresh. What 
 the religious orders might attempt if they had reason 
 to believe the Church in danger, she was well aware. 
 
 VOL. I. U
 
 290 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6- 
 
 The monks were stronger now than in Enrique's 
 days. Besides, there was the royal Nun — a nun 
 who had not taken vows, and who might raise her 
 flag at any time. How woidd her child be able to 
 resist the popular feeling for her niece ? This source 
 of danger must be stopped ; and, whether she should 
 bend or break in the experiment, her daughter must 
 be reconciled to that great party which had made 
 her Queen. 
 
 2. A sterner spirit than Mendoza sat beside 
 her chau', in Fray Francisco Ximenes, Primate of 
 Castille and Cardinal of Spain. Excepting natural 
 gifts, this friar had scarcely anything in common 
 .vith Mendoza. He was not of noble birth ; he 
 had no taste for luxury ; he ate no dainty food ; 
 he wore no purple ; he disdained to ride on mules. 
 In early life he often wanted bread. His father 
 placed him at the school of Alcala, from which he 
 went to Salamanca, and from thence to Rome, where 
 he had won the eye of Sixtus the Fourth. A pro- 
 digy of learning, he had studied with success, not 
 only letters and theology, not only civil law and 
 criminal law, but various Oriental tongues. Yet 
 many years elajised before the low-born snge could 
 will his way to rank and power. At last, he won 
 them l)y aj)pearing to reject them. Laying down 
 his poor preferment in tlie ])riesthood, he became a 
 brother of tlie Order of St. Francis in Toledo, 
 Avhore he roused tlie city by his sermons, and se- 
 cured her notice by rcLliing to a convent in a wood
 
 CHAP. VIII. — FAIR JUANA. 1496. 291 
 
 A crowd went out to see him and confess to him. 
 Mendoza, liearmg of a man who lived a holy life and 
 drew the city after him, presented him at court. 
 Ximenes saw his kingdom made. At fifty-six he 
 was confessor to the Queen, at fifty-nine Archbishop 
 of Toledo, and the Cardinal of Spain. At once he 
 stamped his image on the court and on the church. 
 Austere and self-denying, he declared that offices 
 should not be given to those who sought them. ' A 
 request for place,' he said, 'implies either want of 
 modesty or want of merit.' Like the great Domi- 
 nican in Florence, he commenced reforms on every 
 side ; in the religious orders, in the regular clergy, 
 in the convents, in the colleges and schools. He 
 preached the merit of belonging to religious orders. 
 Men who wished to rise became lay brothers of 
 St. Francis ; women who desired to shine became 
 lay-sisters of St. Francis. Isabel was a sister. Cata- 
 lina was a sister. In Mendoza's time a friar bore 
 pike and sword. Ximenes made the fighting-men 
 wear hood and gown. Yet the reform for which 
 his Church has praised Ximenes most, was the ex- 
 ample of a holy life. He never bent his eye on 
 woman, and he never grasped at personal wealth. 
 On every side he kept his vow, and lived as he had 
 sworn to live, obedient, chaste, and poor. 
 
 3. This priest, whose errors were the outcome 
 of his virtues, was resolved on winning over the 
 Mohammedan people of Granada to the faith of 
 Christ. Fernando had agreed in his capitulations
 
 292 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 with the citizens to respect their customs, laws, and 
 creeds ; and he was not unwilling to mamtain his 
 royal pledges. It was hardly safe to rouse the pas- 
 sions of the conquered race. Some risings had al- 
 ready taken place, in consequence of a flagrant 
 breach of the conditions made between the Moors 
 and the Castillian Knights. But then Ximenes had 
 not signed that treaty with the Moors, nor was he 
 bound by what the knights had signed. At first, 
 he tried a gentle treatment. Sending for the learned 
 Moors, he made them fervid speeches, and presented 
 them with costly gifts. Some few he won by speech 
 and gift ; but with the hard of heart he tried the 
 virtue of arrest, confinement, and starvation. As the 
 work went slowly forward, he imagined he might 
 gain his ends by burning all the Moorish books. 
 Then came a deed which rivalled and revenged the 
 act of Omar in the capital of Egypt. From afar 
 and near he gathered in the treasures of Arabian 
 learning — books of science, books of poetry, books 
 of travel, books of history— original, adapted and 
 translated — and in tens of thousand burnt them all ! 
 4. Austere and jealous, he committed Dona Juana 
 to a body of observant friars, with Fray Andreas at 
 tlieir liead. Andreas undertook the task of bringing 
 her into a better frame. A stifi" and swarthy man, who 
 boasted that he was not worth a })in, and yet was 
 happier with his mouldy crust tlian kuigs who dined 
 on costly meat and wines, he locked the priuccss in 
 her cliumber, read to her the lives of saints, and took
 
 CHAP. VIII. — FAIR JUANA. 1496, 293 
 
 away some portion of her daily food. He put her 
 under penance, and at last he broke her to his will. 
 But she was cowed, not crushed. A sullen fire was 
 burning in her heart; she yielded only in her words; 
 and Isabel, her mother, no less troubled by the peril 
 of her state on earth than by the danger to her soul 
 in heaven, grew sore in heart against her beautiful 
 and petulant child. 
 
 5. This stage of suffering ended with Juana's 
 marriage to the Austrian Archduke, Philip the Fair ; 
 a fact that was to change the course and aspect of 
 events, to plant a German dynasty on the throne of 
 Spain, and lay the platform for a universal empire 
 under Charles the Fifth.
 
 294 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SPANISH MARRIAGES. 
 
 1496. 
 
 1, When Charles of France, rejecting Marguerite 
 and marrying Duchess Anne, had challenged Ger- 
 many to mortal strife, Fernando, seizing on the 
 moment of imperial frenzy, had proposed a league 
 of Spain and Germany against the French. It was 
 to be a large and lasting league ; a bond between 
 then- houses and their kingdoms ; so that what was 
 done by King and Kaiser should be carried forward 
 by their sons and by their sons' sons through all 
 coming time. Juan, Prince of the Asturias, was to 
 marry Marguerite, the bright and witty creature 
 driven away by Charles ; while PhiHp, Archduke of 
 Austria, was to wed Juana, fairest daughter of the 
 house of Spain. Fernando meant to marry Germany 
 as he had married Portuji-al. If Max were made a 
 partner in liis crime against his cousin, the Seiiora 
 Excellenta, notliing need be feared from her. If 
 Marguerite were Queen of Spain, as Juan's bride, 
 the Emperor would become as nuicli a ])artner in 
 tliat crime as Jolin of Portugal had Ixhmi. The 
 Emperor had listened to these Spanish oilers with
 
 CHAP. IX. — SPANISH MARRIAGES. 1496. 295 
 
 a greedy sense. To marry provinces and kingdoms 
 was the habit of his house : — 
 
 Bella gerant alii, tn felix Austria nube 
 Nam qujB Mars aliis, dat tibi regna Venus ! 
 
 2. Fernando made things pleasant at the Austrian 
 court. Max had no money to bestow on Margue- 
 rite ; yet feared to let the Spaniards get a footing 
 in the Netherlands and on the Alps. Artois and 
 Franche Comte ought never to be parted from the 
 empire. If the French had carried out their treaty, 
 these important provinces would have gone to France: 
 but having got them back from Charles, the Em- 
 peror feared to let them fall into another hand. 
 Yet Marguerite could hardly go without a portion 
 let her marry whom she might. Fernando showed 
 the Kaiser how to marry his child without giving 
 her a ducat or an acre. Let there be a pure ex- 
 change of brides. Let each forego the woman's share. 
 More knight than emperor, Max snapt at the pro- 
 posal, for the chief advantage of the bargain lay 
 with him. His daughter was to enter Spain without 
 a portion ; and Juana was to enter Gennany with- 
 out a portion ; so far King and Kaiser stood in line. 
 But Marguerite was to yield her artificial interest 
 in the coronets of Artois and Franche Comte, while 
 Juana could not yield her natural interest in the 
 crowns of Aragon and Castilie. 
 
 3. Doiia Juana sailed for Flanders, and the fleet 
 which bore her from Laredo carried the Archduchess 
 Marguerite to Spain. Philip the Fair, a youth with
 
 296 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-t). 
 
 yellow hair and light blue eyes, whose beauty was a 
 little marred by his long Austrian lip, received his 
 bride with rapture, and was true to her a sum- 
 mer day. The bridal feast was spread at Lille, 
 and artists of all nations were employed to celebrate 
 the nuptial rites. Juana found at Ghent a liberal 
 church, with priests who laughed at friars, who read 
 the newly - printed books, and preached the free 
 theology in vogue among the French. As yet she 
 saw no writing on the wall ; but sharp and menacing 
 eyes were turned on her from Santa Cruz. Don Juan 
 and Marguerite were mamed in the town of Burgos, 
 with a more than rojal state. The pale and sombre 
 boy M^as smitten by the wit and beauty of his bride, 
 a girl who laughed and sang the live-long day ; but 
 his confessor and his almoner, brethren of St. Domi- 
 nic and St. Francis, were alarmed by Marguerite's 
 happy ways, so different from the stiff and dismal 
 habits of the Spanish court. The boy, who never 
 breathed the air of freedom and enjoyment till he 
 met his auy consort, fell into a trance of dizzy and 
 delighted love. 
 
 4. While all these bridal feasts were on, tlie 
 King of Portugal pressed his suit in terms which 
 could no longer be put off with words. He would 
 not have the yoiuiger girl. He wanted Isabel, and 
 would not be denied. Tlie moping widow, listening 
 to the counsels of her mother, put bim to a test. 
 He said he lovod lici- : would be make a sacrifice 
 for her? A lover would do anything to gain the
 
 CHAP. IX. — SPANISH MARRIAGES. 1496. 297 
 
 woman of liis clioice. Wliat would he do for her ? 
 Would he forget for her the liberal passion of his 
 youth and yield his conscience to the brethren of 
 St, Dominic ? If so, she would accept liis hand. 
 But he must give a striking proof of his submis- 
 sion to the order. He must set aside the noblest 
 act of John, and drive the Jews from Portugal as 
 thoroughly as they had been expelled from Spain. 
 A fearful test ; but not a test of love ! He felt 
 no love, and had to make no sacrifice for love. 
 His yearnings were for crowns. He cared no more 
 for Dona Isabel than he had cared for Lady Anne. 
 Could he destroy for his ambition twenty thousand 
 happy homes ? Could he drive out a hundred thou- 
 sand men and women from his kingdom ? Could he 
 force into his caravels, to sail they knew not why 
 and whither, multitudes of aged men, of innocent 
 girls, and unoffending babes ? 
 
 5. To Manoel's shame he yielded to the woman's 
 bait. A royal edict bade the Jews depart from Por- 
 tugal. No one, however great in science and in 
 favour, was to lag behind. Zacuto had to quit his 
 globes ; Aboab had to carry off his scrolls. Scant 
 time was given them to prepare for exile. Such as 
 had not gone in time were to be seized, baptized, 
 and marked as converts. The Dominicans hoped 
 to catch a crowd of laggers, and in order to delay 
 their going they were forced to leave the country 
 from a single port. The roads were rough, the cara- 
 vels were few. Young children sickened on the road
 
 298 BOOK V. — CATHARINE AT GRANADA. 1492-6. 
 
 and died. A few of the unhappy race were left 
 behind ; the sick, the aged, and the halt ; yet 
 
 * 
 
 even these were few ; for in this awful scene, which 
 Usque calls a final Exodus, the rich and vigorous 
 helped the poor and weak.' ' At length they got on 
 board their ships. At sea, they parted company ; 
 some going north towards Flanders, others dropping 
 south towards Africa, and many running up the 
 midland sea to Venice and the Grecian Isles. To 
 Portugal they left a bitter and abiding curse. 
 
 6. The Jews being ousted from his kingdom, 
 Manoel claimed his price, the first-born child of 
 Spain, Although her marriage with his nephew 
 had been called a ' curse,' he would not wait for her 
 one day beyond his time. To get her, he had parted 
 from his friend Zacuto, Carinof more for science than 
 for anything on earth save rule and government, he 
 had robbed his country of the lights of learning and 
 the masters of finance and industry in order to 
 obtain her hand. A gambler who had staked his 
 fortune on a throw, could not have been more 
 anxious to possess his gains. The moping widow 
 was obliged to yield. With heavy heart she bade 
 her sisters, Catalina and Maria, her adieux, and rode 
 with her parents to the frontier city of Valencia, 
 where she gave the King of Portugal her frigid 
 hand and lifeless heait. He made no fuss about 
 his love, but took her for the prize she was ; a 
 woman only one remove from twenty crowns. In 
 wedding lier, lie wedded her contingent claims.
 
 CHAP. IX. — SPANISH MARRIAGES. 1496. 21)9 
 
 With neither royal feast nor public show, witli 
 neither private hope nor personal love, the child 
 of sin, the curse of Portugal, took her rank and place 
 as Manoel's w^ife. Her parents were content ; Fer- 
 nando that the royal Nun was safe, and Isabel that 
 the Hebrews were expelled. But while they ate 
 the nuptial feast, the curse began to work around 
 them, liiders came in haste from Salamanca, whither 
 Juan had repaired, with news that he had fallen sick. 
 A cliill, a fever, and a wasting sickness were upon 
 him. The physicians were in mortal fear, and if 
 the King and Queen desired to see their son alive, 
 they must be up and in the saddle ere the morning 
 broke !
 
 I00I1 tijc Bhtl^. 
 
 PRINCESS OF WALES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 CATALINA. 
 
 1497. 
 
 1. In these great matclies with the Empire, 
 England, Portugal, and Flanders, Catharine s parents 
 touched the zenith of their fortunes. They could 
 stretch thek hands from sea to sea. The Caliphs of 
 Granada were expelled. The Hberal party in Castille 
 was crushed. Their Holy Office was at work in 
 every part of Spain. A Genoese adventurer was 
 adding unknown regions to their empire in the 
 west. Then' troops had entered Naples and sup- 
 ported Rome. They had redeemed their duchies 
 in the Pyrenees. By giving Isabel to Manoel they 
 had sealed their frontier, satisfied the brethren 
 of St. Dominic, and locked the gates of Santa Clara 
 on their niece. By giving Catharine to the Prince 
 of Wales, they had secured an ally who could hold 
 the French m check. By marrying Juan to the
 
 302 BOOK VI. — PRIXCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 Kaiser's daughter they had brought the Empire into 
 close connexion with their house ; by marrying Juana 
 to the Archduke PhiUp they had given their grand- 
 son an imperial throne. 
 
 2. Maria, now fifteen, was with her sister 
 CataUna, upwards of eleven, at the Alhambra, 
 living in their golden cage. Maria, though refused 
 by Manoel as a younger child, was kept by Isabel, 
 her mother, in reserve. The pohcy of Spain required 
 a daughter of the reigning house to be in Portugal, 
 and if the moping mdow failed them, who, except 
 Maria, could be sent to Lisbon in her place ? Maria 
 was reserved. With Catalina everything seemed 
 fixed. She wore her English name ; she was the 
 bride of Arthur of Winchester : she urs^ed ao^ainst her 
 mother's priests the wishes of her future lord. 
 
 3. Ximenes, Cardinal of Spain, admitted Catha- 
 rine as a sister of the Order of St. Francis, and 
 exacted from her childish lips the customary vows. 
 She bound herself by oath to give back all ill- 
 gotten goods, to live in peace with every one, to 
 spend her days in works of cliarity, to eat no 
 costly food, to wear no personal gauds, to serve 
 the poor and sick, to teach the ignorant, and 
 to live in palaces the life she might have had to 
 live in convent-cells. These vows were hard to 
 keep, and Catharine never tried to keep them. 
 How, nmoug tho niins of Granada, could a 
 child restore ill-gottcu goods ? How, in the midst 
 of burning pyres, could she devote her time to acts of
 
 CHAP. L — CATALINA. 1497. 303 
 
 mercy ? Fasting was a form of piety for which she 
 nursed a strong dislike ; the greater since the father 
 of Prince Arthur, wishing her to be stout of frame, 
 had begged her mother to allow her wine at meals. 
 In sultry Spain, the luxury of earth is water. 
 Wine is fire, and in a caliph's chamber wine is 
 a forbidden drink. But Henry had informed the 
 Queen of Spain that if the Princess was to live 
 in London, she must learn betimes to live on wine. 
 4. At ten she could not speak a word of either 
 French or English. Henry was enraged at this 
 neglect. Himself a scholar, his sons were being 
 taught v/hatever it was well for kings and dukes to 
 learn. Andrd, the blind French j^oet, was appointed 
 to the post of Arthur's tutor. Andre was a learned 
 man, but learned men were not as yet familiar 
 with Castillian. Save a trader here and there, no 
 Englishman could speak that language. How would 
 Arthur court her ? How would Henry and his 
 ministers advise her? How could people come to 
 her on business, courtesy, and service ? Would 
 she like to have interpreters between her husband 
 and herself? A separate language meant a sepa- 
 rate household ; for a princess who could speak no 
 language but Castillian, must provide herself with 
 Spanish servants ; a confessor, a duena, and a keeper 
 of the privy purse. Her servants would be strangers 
 in the land. How would the Prince, her husband, 
 rule these foreign servants in his house ? If Catha- 
 rine could be got to England in her early teens,
 
 304 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 much trouble might be saved, as she would learn 
 to be an English giii before she would be called an 
 Englisb queen. But in Granada neither King nor 
 Queen was yet aware how far the treaty would be 
 carried out. ' All former treaties are annulled/ was 
 still Fernando s principle. When cu'cumstances led 
 him to propose a second treaty, with a marriage of 
 the Prince of Wales and Princess Catharine as the 
 binding article, — a treaty with the Pope, the Em- 
 peror, the King and Queen of Spain, the Doge of 
 Venice and the Duke of Milan — it was agreed 
 between the two Kings that Arthur of Winchester 
 should marry Catharine of Aragon when he came of 
 age, and that the Princess Catharine should be sent 
 to London at the age of twelve. But in the 
 drawing of his articles, Fernando made mistakes 
 of fact which helped him to evade his pledge. He 
 stipulated that his daughter should be sent to Eng- 
 land when the Prince of Wales was fourteen years 
 of age, and she was twelve ; a date which never 
 could arrive, since she was ten months older than 
 the Prince. Tliis error helped Fernando to detain 
 her three years lunger than the stipulated time. 
 
 5. When Henry took his place as member of 
 the Holy League, he was already strong enough 
 to make his terms witli Germany and Spain, A 
 dozen years of peace had given a vast expansion to 
 liis means. His treasury was full; liis fleets were 
 strongly manned. In every shire his musters were 
 at drill. A capable and active officer had put his
 
 CHAP. I. — CATALINA. 1497. 305 
 
 ordnance into working order. The factions had been 
 curbed, if not effaced. The Welsh, so long estranged, 
 were coming into better mood. The Irish septs were 
 quiet, and if knight and kerne still quarrelled in the 
 old domain, they seldom turned their arms against 
 the crown. With Scotland not much progress had 
 been made ; for Stirling was a nest of French in- 
 trigues, and Arthur's contract with the Spanish prin- 
 cess was opposed by France. But Scotland was a 
 nuisance which the King could use in reckoning with 
 the league. On joining Kaiser, King and Pope, 
 he asked to be excepted from those articles which 
 obliged the leaguers to support each other by a fixed 
 number of men. They yielded to his terms. He 
 asked to be excepted from the article which bound 
 all leaguers to contribute certain sums. Again they 
 yielded to his terms. He asked to be excepted from 
 the article which compelled the leaguers to maintain 
 an army ready to repel aggressions. And again they 
 yielded to his terms. Fernando's blotted line, ' All 
 former treaties are annulled,' was. turned by him 
 against the Spaniards, and the treaty of alliance was 
 renewed on terms more favourable to the Enoflish 
 crown . 
 
 6. 'If Henry joins the League all other members 
 will defend him in his states against every one who 
 seeks to do him harm,' Fernando wrote to Puebla 
 while the King was pausing ere he signed. A 
 rumour reached the King of Spain that French 
 ecclesiastics were in London, striving to seduce the 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 BOOK VI. PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 King by offers of a princess for his son with a far 
 richer dowry than CataUna was to have. The tale 
 was true ; for Charles, being pressed on every side, 
 was eager to connect his fortunes with so strong a 
 friend. At once Fernando wrote to London : * Let 
 the King beware of these French offers ; sudi a 
 match as that proposed would light a flame in 
 England that would quickly burn up Henry and 
 his whole estate.' Events near home were lending a 
 most serious meaning to Fernando's promises and 
 threats, for Richard, Duke of York, was in the field 
 again, supported by the personal efforts and the 
 whole resources of the King of Scots. Again the 
 factions were astir. Again the bordere were dis- 
 turbed, and many of the border chiefs were plotting 
 with the Rose of York. No man could say how soon 
 the storm would burst, how far the ravage might 
 extend. All Henry's hopes of a pacific union of the 
 nations seemed to melt away, and in the place of 
 sending to tlie north his doves of peace, he must 
 unkennel and unslip his dogs of war. Fernando and 
 liis allies had tlie power to help him and to thwart 
 him in a policy the nearest to his heart.
 
 307 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 KING OF SCOTS. 
 
 1497. 
 
 1. Ere Henry joined the Holy League French 
 agents had been sent to Leith, where James was 
 but too eairer in their master's cause. For France 
 had always been his patron ; and whenever Eng- 
 land was at war, her border lay exposed to sudden 
 raids. Some Scots were burning to recover Berwick; 
 more were bent on lifting kine and sheep. To James, 
 the port of Berwick was what Calais was to Charles ; 
 an open portal into his estate. Not fifteen years ago 
 that portal lay in Scottish hands ; but while the 
 country had been struggling with Albany, an English 
 force had slipt into the town, and could not be ex- 
 pelled. In strength, in shipping, in revenue, Berwick 
 had been a shield of safety and a mine of riches to 
 the northern crown. To get this fortress back, the 
 Scots were ready to engage in war, and since the 
 titular Duke of York agreed to yield that fort, if 
 James would help him to obtain his crown, a bar- 
 gain was arranged between the King and Duke. 
 The Eose of York appeared at Stirling, and the Scot- 
 tish cryers ran into the hills with pipe and torch.
 
 308 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 announcing that the King was girding on his sword, 
 and calling: on the clans to arm. These clans were 
 but too eager for a raid which promised them free 
 quarters in a comfortable English shire. 
 
 2. Like every one who met him, James was fas- 
 cinated by the Rose of York, and his relations with 
 the young pretender ripened into close and passionate 
 regard. James took the stranger to his heart, as 
 well as to his house. He carried bim through his 
 towns as something nearer than a royal guest. He 
 put his cousin, Catharine Gordon, in his way, and 
 when the Duke, enchanted by her grace and love- 
 liness, proposed to her in one of the prettiest love- 
 letters in the world, James gave away this daughter 
 of a line of kings to Richard, Duke of York, with 
 rapture. Lady Catharine was a bright and delicate 
 woman, whom her enemy, the Tudor prince, re- 
 spected for her sense even more than for her mise- 
 ries ; yet her princely instincts never warned her 
 that the husband of her fancy was a low-born churl. 
 She took him, in the ' purple light of youth ; ' she 
 gave her heart into his keeping ; and she clung to 
 him tlirough all the tempests of his life. Events 
 had no effect on Lady Catharine's love. Great 
 prnices might betray her lord ; but Catharine could 
 not change her mind. She never doubted that her 
 partner was King Edward's younger son. 
 
 'A. ( )](] spears were dragged from wall and gate ; 
 old swords were cleaned and ground ; old cfuns were 
 were dragged from tower and yard ; and the clans-
 
 CHAP. 11. — KING OF SCOTS. N97. 309 
 
 men gathered from tlie farthest Isles. A ship bronglit 
 men and arms from Ducliess Margaret. An agent 
 came from France, professing a desire to mediate, 
 but secretly intending to assist the King of Scots 
 and Duke of York. Some border families — Nevills, 
 Dacres, Herons — sent to hail the Duke, and James 
 concluded from these merry openings that his guest 
 had but to show his face across the border for the 
 English towns to rise. How little either of them 
 
 knew about those border lands ! 
 
 * 
 
 3. His feet on English ground, the Hose of York 
 put out a proclamation in the name of Richard the 
 Fourth, denouncing Henry Tudor as a Welshman, 
 and his councillors as low-born caitiffs. Richard 
 Fox and William Smith, Reginald Bray and Thomas 
 Empson, were among these low-born caitiffs ; Fox 
 and Smith being bishops, Bray and Empson coun- 
 cillors and knights. Henry Wyat, Keeper of the 
 Jewels, William Hatcliffe, Secretary of the Ex- 
 chequer, and Oliver King, Bishop of Bath and 
 Wells, were all denounced by name. Henry was 
 proclaimed a murderer and usurper, a taxer of the 
 people, and an enemy of the Church. The 'King' 
 was lavish of his promises of a happier rule ; but in 
 the border shires these promises were read in the 
 wild light of blazing farms. Then English blood 
 grew hot against a man who came to free them with 
 a gang of Flemings, French, and Scots. The people 
 rose. A border war broke out ; a war conducted 
 m the border style. Being masters in the open field,
 
 310 BOOK VL— PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 the clansmen wreaked their rage on farm and peel, 
 until the Duke, distracted by the riot, turned his face 
 away in shame from men whose only deeds were lift- 
 ing cattle in his name and tossing stolen liquor in his 
 cause. But when he checked them, they began to 
 waver in their faith. Even James indulged a sneer 
 at his expense. 'Yea, I would rather lose my crown,' 
 said Richard, ' than secure it by such means.' ' My 
 cousin,' James replied, 'is too solicitous for the wel- 
 fare of a nation that hesitates to acknowledge him as 
 either a subject or a king.' • 
 
 4. An Enghsh army under Dacres was assem- 
 bling in their front ; an army which the clansmen 
 could not meet in fight. A wasted country oifered 
 but a poor support to hungry men. Should they ad- 
 vance on Yorkshire, or retreat behind the Pentland 
 hills ? The Duke and Lady Catharine urged the 
 Khig, their cousin, to advance. But James, who saw 
 that Kichard was no warrior, also saw that England 
 would not rise. A woman called him to her bower 
 at Stirling, and the flighty monarch wheeled about 
 and fled. In hurrying through the Cheviot hills, a 
 poorer, thirstier rabble than before, the clansmen 
 shouted to the winds that some one had betrayed 
 them to their English foes. Those men were wrong. 
 Not one, but many, had betrayed them to their 
 English foes. Half Stirling was in Henry's pay. 
 The l>ish(»p of Moray liad agreed to help the Eng- 
 lish ill rrpelling Bicliard, Duke of York. Buchan, 
 a son of the Black Knight of Lorn, and Joan,
 
 CHAP. 11. — KING OF SCOTS. 1497. 311 
 
 Queen-widow of James the First, had taken service 
 in the English court. Both well had asked for Eng- 
 lish gold. The Duke of Koss, a younger brother 
 of the King, was on the English side, so far as such 
 a boy could be on any side. A party in the court, 
 aware of Henry's plans for a pacific union of the 
 crowns, was bent on thwarting York. Some friends 
 of Koss proposed to send him to the English court. 
 Buchan and Bothwell formed a plot to steal by night 
 to the Pretender's camp, to seize his person as he 
 lay asleep, and bear him to the nearest EngHsh town. 
 In every quarter Bichard and his wife had secret 
 foes to watch and foil. They had no funds. They 
 were indebted to the King of Scots for bread. They 
 had no friends save such as youth and misery brought 
 them. They were weak and human. Bichard could 
 not look on fire and blood without a wish to yield 
 his claims, if giving up his rights would save the 
 waste of life. His tenderness had weakened the 
 invading force, disturbed his intercourse with James, 
 and driven from him the Highland clans. 
 
 5. Of all his foes, the most adroit was Pedro 
 de Ayala, envoy from the King of Spain. By 
 marrying Lady Catharine, he had made Fernando 
 the most deadly of his foes ; for if he now suc- 
 ceeded in his claim, another Catharine would be 
 Queen of England, and another family would sup- 
 ply a race of English kings. Since Henry had 
 become a member of the Leasfue, it was Fernando's 
 cue to stand by him ; and Stirling having now
 
 312 BOOK VL— PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 become a nest of Frencli intrigues, he chose to 
 plant an agent in the Scottish court. This agent 
 was a priest, a proto-notary, and a man of family, 
 who knew the world even better than he knew 
 the Church. In dress, in manner, and in speech, 
 Ayala was a contrast to the lame comedian at the 
 English court. A gentleman of handsome person 
 and engaging tongue, he found a way to every 
 heart. He hired a goodly house ; he kept a delicate 
 table ; and by scattering presents to his right and 
 left, he made a friend in almost every house. 
 He noted Scot and Scotland with a cunning- 
 eye. By sparkling wit and pleasant ways, the Span- 
 ish proto-notary soon became a favourite of all par- 
 ties in the Scottish capital ; and that in spite of 
 what they called, and very justly called, a recent 
 insult to their King and state. 
 
 6. When Puebla had first come to London, he 
 had been instructed to inquire about the Soots ; 
 what kind of men they were ; what sort of land 
 they lived in ; how they could be turned to good 
 account by Spain. Fernando's aims on England 
 had com])el]ed liim to consider Scotland. Scotland 
 was the friend of France. If Henry could be got 
 to throw an army into Normandie, the Scots 
 were sure to hurl their clans across the Tweed, 
 nnd half the Eiii^^lish forces would be wanted to 
 repel these ini-oads on the northern shires. If 
 Sc<^)tland could l)e made to koej) the peace through 
 Si)aiiiHh means, Fernando would be still more
 
 CHAP. II. — KING OF SCOTS. 1497. 313 
 
 powerful at the English court. So Puebla had 
 been told to ask if James would wed Juana, daugh- 
 ter of Fernando by his Catalan mistress. He had 
 imagined Scotland as a savage waste; but he had 
 learned to his surprise that Scotland was a civi- 
 lized kingdom, that her ruler was a poet and a 
 soldier, that her peasantry were high in mood, and that 
 her nobles were as ancient and as haughty as the 
 dukes and counts of Spain. How could he name 
 Fernando's offer of his Catalan daughter to the 
 King of Scots ? Not daring to propose that James 
 should wed a bastard, he had dropt the question 
 of Juana's birth, and let the King of Scots imagine 
 he was treating for a daughter of the King and 
 Queen. A comedy of errors had been played for 
 many months ; a false Juana and a true Juana 
 threading in and out ; till James had heard from 
 other quarters that the girl he talked of wedding 
 was contracted to the son of Max. At once, he 
 had inquired of Puebla, and the cripple, in reply 
 to James, had reached the highest of his many 
 flights. No doubt, he had replied to James, there 
 was a new Juana in the field, who was to marry 
 Philip, son of Max ; but Philip was to wed the 
 second, not the first ; the first and best Juana had 
 been kept for James. Both girls, he had assm^ed 
 the court, were daughters of Fernando ; both were 
 born in wedlock ; both were heii'esses of all his 
 crowns. But James would have the elder- born. 
 According to the canon's story, everything seemed
 
 314 BOOK VI.— PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 clear. Before Fernando married Isabel, lie had been 
 married to the Catalan lady, and the princess, being 
 the elder-born, might live to wear the crowns of 
 Aragon, Sicily, Sardinia, and the whole of their 
 dependent duchies. James had seized his offer, 
 and appointed envoys to proceed to Spain, while 
 Puebla, laughing in his cloak, had written j oyously 
 to say how thoroughly he had gulled the Kmg of 
 Scots. 
 
 7. Unhappily his masters had not read his letters 
 in the proper light. They had theu^ doubts whether 
 James was such a fool as Puebla thought him. 
 Puebla had said the Scots would be a little hot; 
 but savage heat soon cools ; and when their hands 
 had touched the Spanish silver they would say no 
 more about the Catalan lady's birth. But how, the 
 King and Queen had asked, could they prevent the 
 truth being told ? How, too, were they to be assured 
 that James would pocket the affront ? To them 
 the lie had seemed a grave affair ; and though they 
 praised the cripple for his wit, they had not seen 
 their way to make a profit by his falsehoods. * You 
 have acted for the best,' they had assured him, in 
 reply to his disclosures ; ' yet it was not prudent 
 to assert that Dona Juana is a legitimate daughter 
 of Fernando. You should tell the truth before the 
 Scotch ambassadors leave their country. Seeing by 
 what roads they have to come, some one will surely 
 tell them. Even we ourselves should have to tell the 
 trutli at last.' W, anIich he luulerstood this matter,
 
 CHAP. II. — KING OF SCOTS. 1497. 315 
 
 James Lad been content to take tlie Catalan for 
 a wife, tliey would have given her heaps of dncats ; 
 and as James was short of money, they had hoped 
 he might go forward in the match. ' Her dowry 
 shall be doubled if the King wdll wed her.' But 
 they had not thought of giving him a daughter of 
 the royal house. On Puebla hintmg that they might 
 do well to let him have Maria, they had said witli 
 brazen front, ' If James expects to get a princess, 
 you must put him off with lies. A plain refusal 
 of his suit from us would drive him over to the 
 French.'
 
 316 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 RICHARD THE FOURTH. 
 1497. 
 
 1. Seven years had passed since this rebuff was 
 given, yet James had never smoothed his brow 
 towards Spain. Ayala had to clear the ground. He 
 had to get this prince, the warmest friend of France, 
 to look at men and things through Spanish eyes. It 
 was no easy task, and yet the Spanish priest soon 
 found a way to work. The King was low in mood ; 
 in part from failure in the war ; in part from fear 
 of Henry; and in part from a mishap in love. Ayala 
 soothed and cheered him. An ambassador from a 
 miglity prince, he spoke to James as though he 
 were an Emperor ; suggesting brides for him, as 
 though a King of Scots could jiick a wife from 
 any ftimily in the world. The King was young, 
 with several amours on his hands. Ayala found 
 one mistress in the palace, and another in a country 
 liouse. Bonny Margaret Drummond was the reign- 
 ing toast, l)ut Lady Janet Kennedy disturbed her 
 empire in the King. Tlicre had been many more. 
 * The noble fainilies,' said Ayala, ' fa\'ourcd his in- 
 trigues in order to procure advantages for them-
 
 CHAP. III. — RICHARD THE FOURTH. 1497. 317 
 
 selves.' Ayala led him to renounce tliese evil 
 courses, and to turn his thoughts towards marriage 
 with a lady of some royal house. Dona Maria, 
 then at the Alhambra, Princess Margaret, then at 
 Sheen, were held before .his eyes as ladies of the 
 highest birth, who might be asked to share his 
 throne. James listened to a guest whose words 
 made music in his veins. A match with Spain 
 would fill his heart with pride ; a match with 
 England might result in giving his posterity the 
 English crown. 
 
 2. At first, Ayala was not clear about his 
 master s game. If he had given Maria to the King 
 of Scots Berwick might have been to-day a border 
 town, and Scotland might have been to England all 
 that Portugal has been to Spain. But she could 
 not be spared for Stirling. ' Then, if James is not 
 to have Maria,' wrote Ayala, * he will turn his eyes 
 towards Margaret. ' That was in Fernando 's thoughts ; 
 and that was what Ayala was instructed to secure. 
 * A truce, a peace, a marriage, and a crown,' were 
 the alluring prizes which Ayala was to dangle in 
 the eyes of James, who soon began to see his duty 
 with Ayala's eyes. If pride forbade him to desert a 
 prince who had become a member of his house, his 
 arm grew slacker in the cause with every turn of 
 thought and every pause of speech. His rage for 
 rushing through the Cheviots cooled. He listened 
 to the men who spoke of peace, and though the 
 Hose of York received from him the honours of a
 
 318 BOOK VI. — PEIXCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 prince, sharp eyes could see amidst tlie clieer some 
 signs that his affairs were hastening to their fall. 
 
 3. Ayala sailed for London with a secret man- 
 date from the King, his master, in his belt, appoint- 
 ing him ambassador at the English court, and noting 
 him to Henry as a man of special trust. Fernando 
 had resolved to bring about a truce between the 
 English and the Scottish Kings, and even to prepare 
 a union of the greater with the lesser crown. Ayala 
 was the man for this pacific work. That Puebla 
 would be jealous of their envoy was foreseen by 
 Isabel, who tried to soothe him by a string of lies. 
 Ayala was her minister to James, but not to Henry, 
 she explained. His letters were a sham, and only 
 to be shown in case he fell into some cruiser's snare. 
 When he was safe on shore, he was to tear them up. 
 But Puebla murmured, that this agent stayed in 
 London, and was constantly in Henry's closet. She 
 aflPected to be angry at Ayala having left his proper 
 post, and threw the blame on Henry, who appeared, 
 she said, to exercise a sort of fascination on the proto- 
 notary. But Puebla was to carry on his business, as 
 before Ayala came, and write to her in greater detail. 
 When the cripple had been lulled by specious words, 
 she sent two spies to London, with instructions to 
 observe his ways of life, to see what place he held, 
 and find out anything they could against him. Fray 
 Johannes de Maticnzo, sub-])rior of Santa Cruz, and 
 Sancho de Londono, knight and soldier, were these 
 spies.
 
 CHAP. III. — RICHARD THE FOURTH. 1497. 31.9 
 
 4, Ayala was a man to take the eye and catch 
 the ear of Henry ; for his person and his purpose 
 were exactly to the royal mind. A truce, a peace, 
 and after peace a match, were what he wished to 
 bring about. Constructive in his genius, he had 
 dreamed of that arransfement of the border strife, 
 and once at least he had been ready with his 
 treaty. When Ayala hinted that the swiftest way 
 to crush the Rose of York was to arrange with 
 James, he found the King familiar with his line of 
 thought. Already, by his Welsh and Irish policy, 
 he had taken some preliminary steps towards found- 
 ing one great monarchy on British soil. The end 
 was still far off; but he had partly cleared the 
 ground, and shown the masons where to build. To 
 found that monarchy, a reconciliation of the Welsh 
 and a conciliation of the Irish were not all ; the 
 Scots must come into the union ; and a hundred 
 years of war had proved to every man of sense that 
 Scotland was a country never to be won by force of 
 arms. Alliance might succeed. But how were they 
 to move ? It was for James to sue. The Kinjr of 
 Scots denied his title, entertained a rival ' king,' and 
 led his clans across the Tweed. Pride, anger, and re- 
 venge, the fiercest passions of the human heart, in- 
 flamed his border shires, and any treating with the 
 Scots, except by sword and brand, might stir up 
 swarms of foes whom he could ill afford to brave. 
 Apart from passion, every one could see the value 
 of a truce and match. Ayala knew the case of
 
 320 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 Portugal. If Spain could give her daughter to a 
 Portuguese for peace, why should not England give 
 her daughter to a Scot for peace ? 
 
 5. Ayala was allowed to feel his way with James, 
 but only if he spoke as working on ideas of his own. 
 On going back to Leith, he found liis friend the 
 King of Scots depressed in mind. A raid on 
 Norham, which he fancied he could take asleep, 
 was helping him to see his duties as Ayala saw 
 them. Norham was a castle on the Tweed, then 
 occupied by Bishop Fox. A few days' notice of 
 the Scots' approach sufficed for Fox, who called 
 in men, and put his guns in order. When the 
 clans came storming up the bank, he met them 
 with a had of shot that broke their companies into 
 spray, and drove them down the steep in head- 
 long rout. Much sobered by his check, the King 
 began to treat of terms. ' Surrender Perkin,' said 
 the Bishop. ' Never ! ' answered James ; * I am no 
 judge of whether he be Duke of York or not ; but 
 I received him as a suppliant ; I married him to my 
 kinswoman ; I believed he was a prince ; and cannot 
 sell him for my personal gain.' The prudent bishop 
 took what he could get. A truce was signed, and 
 articles of peace were sketched ; but Henry would 
 not listen to a word so long as James consented 
 t() protect the Hose of York. 
 
 0. Ayala worked on James ; and James, though 
 much against his will, suggested to his guest, that, 
 since the English would not rise in his behalf, and
 
 CHAP. III. — RICHARD THE FOURTH. 1497. 321 
 
 since the Scots had done theh^ best for him, he would 
 do well to seek some other home, and try his chances 
 on some other coast. All forms of courtesy were still 
 observed with him. His rank was recognised, liis 
 escort found, his table served, his pension paid ; but 
 he was told in many a sigh and gesture, that the 
 time had come for him to leave. If Lady Catharine 
 chose to go with him, she should be free to go. 
 The Scots believed in him, but they had done their 
 utmost in his cause, and were not bound to waste 
 their country for the House of York. A ship was 
 fitted out for sea ; some smaller barks were added for 
 his men. His consort went on board with him ; and 
 in the midst of sad adieux, the youth whom every 
 one in Scotland, from the King to his obscurest 
 page, believed to be Kmg Edward's son, set sail 
 from Ayr. 
 
 It was Fernando 's breath that drove him out. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 o 
 
 22 
 
 CHAPTEE lY. 
 
 MORE WHITE ROSES. 
 
 1497. 
 
 
 1. The Kose of York and his adoring wife were \ 
 not the only Roses to be clipt. Of Arthur's rivals, 
 there was hardly one to whom, in other days, Fer- 
 nando would have scrupled to transfer his child. A 
 red Rose and a white Rose were to him the same ; 
 but he had now made up his mind to win on 
 Henry's son. All other Roses, therefore, were but 
 thorns and briers, to be removed as Carlos and 
 Pacheco were removed. If Catharine sailed for 
 England, she must come to share an undisputed 
 throne. All rivals of the Prmce of Wales must 
 disappear. 
 
 2. The first in blood was Edward, Earl of War- 
 wick, son of George, the murdered Duke of Clarence. 
 Cousin to the Queen, he stood behind her and her 
 sisters in tlie legal order ; but the riglit of females 
 to succeed in person was denied in fact, if not in 
 law; and after Catharine Gordon's husband, all the 
 Yorkists looked on Edward as their riglitful prince. 
 A weak and inoffensive youth, his name alone was 
 dangerous to the King ; a soldier with no sounder
 
 CHAP. IV. MORE WHITE ROSES. 1497. 323 
 
 title than a battle won by mercenary bands ; but he 
 was saved from hurting any one, and most of all 
 from injuring himself. He was a prisoner in tlie 
 Tower. When Simnel rose in Dublin, and announced 
 himself as Edward, Earl of Warwick, Henry had 
 put the true Plantagenet under guard, and as the 
 times grew perilous, had prepared for him a lodging 
 in the pile so fatal to his race. The partizans of 
 Simnel called the prisoner an impostor ; and these 
 partizans of Simnel are not yet extinct. Ten years 
 he had been kept in durance. Happier than his 
 father and his cousin, Edward, last male prince 
 of the Plantagenets, was ' forgotten ' in the Tower. 
 3. The next in blood came Edmond, Earl of 
 Suffolk, son of Lady Bessie, eldest sister of King 
 Edward and King Richard. Lady Bessie had married 
 John de la Pole, second Duke of Suffolk, to whom 
 she had borne five sons and four daughters ; all of 
 whom stood high in favour with, their uncle Bichard, 
 and were placed by him in close succession to 
 the crown. A violent age and an unsettled law 
 had given the reigning prince a voice in choosing 
 who should follow him ; and Bichard, on his son's 
 demise, had fixed on John de la Pole, his sister's 
 eldest son, as heir-presumptive to the throne. No 
 other choice was left. The son of Clarence stood 
 before him, but the son of Clarence was attainted 
 by his father's crime. The daughters of King 
 Edward had been set aside. John de la Pole was 
 next in blood, and being a dashing soldier, seemed
 
 324 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 the fittest prince to carry on the line of York. The 
 highest jDost in Richard's gift, the Lord Lieutenancy 
 of Ireland, had been conferred on him. Nor had his 
 younger brothers been forgotten. Humphrey, having 
 taken orders, had been made a prebendary of St. 
 Paul's, and Edward, having also taken orders, an 
 Archdeacon of Richmond, in the diocese of York. 
 These rich and stately posts were but the steps by 
 which they were to reach the pastoral staff and 
 cardinal's hat. His sister, Lady Anne, had been 
 engaged to James, the heir-apparent of the King 
 of Scots. Had fortune turned against the mer- 
 cenary bands at Bosworth, John de la Pole and 
 Lady Anne would have worn the English and the 
 Scottish crowns. That battle had destroyed the 
 House of Pole. 
 
 4. By bending to the storm, the Duke had 
 saved some portion of a mighty wreck. A thrifty son 
 of thrifty Yorkshire fathers, Pole had trimmed his 
 sail and got his bark to port ; and having in his 
 veins no royal blood, had been allowed to keep his 
 money and his ducal rank. But the Plantagenet 
 yeast being strong within liis sons, they could not 
 Ijrouk their fall from princely state and regal hope. 
 The King had been disposed to treat them kindly. 
 He had called them to his councils, and was 
 willing to regard tlieni as a younger branch. But 
 John, so lately heir, was rash and restless, and while 
 courting Henry's smiles, had entered into plots 
 against his crown and life. Afraid of fortune, he
 
 CHAP. IV. MORE WHITE ROSES. 1497. 32.5 
 
 had fled to Flanders, where his aunt, the Duchess 
 Margaret, gave him shelter, till he crossed the sea 
 to Ireland, where he still affected to be Lord Lieu- 
 tenant, though that office had been given by Henry 
 to his uncle Jasper. Pole had sworn that Simnel 
 was his cousin Edward, Earl of Warwick, the legi- 
 timate heir of Richard's crown. In Simnel's service 
 he had landed, fought, and fallen. 
 
 5. Attainders having swept away the family 
 estate, his younger brother, Edmond, was too 
 poor to hold his rank as duke, and had to sell his 
 patent to the crown. The King bestowed on him 
 the rank of earl, and strove to win him over to his 
 side. Pacific and inventive, it was Henry's care 
 to live in peace with all the Yorkist princes, if the 
 Yorkist princes would accept him as their king. 
 He lost in many ways by lodging Warwick in the 
 Tower ; and Edmond de la Pole at court, in seem- 
 ing favour, was a sign that Henry had some cause 
 beyond the jealousy of a rival prince, for keeping 
 Warwick under watch and ward. Young Pole was 
 near the King, and treated as a cousin by the 
 Prince of Wales. When Henry was created Duke 
 of York, his cousin Pole was foremost in the feast 
 and dance, and took from Queen Elizabeth's hands 
 a handsome ring. Desiring all the world to note 
 how much he trusted Pole, the King went down 
 to his house in Ewelme, near WaUingford, where he 
 deigned to sleep beneath his rival's roof Yet Pole 
 Avas very bitter in his heart against the King. His
 
 326 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 loss of rank and fortune galled liira. He had fallen 
 in the world ; not only far below his birth, but even 
 below his father's birth. The Poles had held the 
 ranli of Duke and Marquis fifty years ; yet he, 
 whose mother was a princess of the blood, must walk 
 behind my Lord of Bucks ! Young, rash, and false, 
 Pole needed to be watched by curious eyes, and kept 
 in bounds by many unseen hands. 
 
 6. From Ayr the Rose of York stood over for 
 the Irish coast, where he imagined every knight and 
 kerne would rise on his approach. But Ireland 
 was no lonofer what she had been in her lawless 
 days. The reins were held in English hands ; the 
 team was driven with English strength. Repelled 
 from port to port, the fugitive found no inch of 
 ground on which to set his feet. He knocked 
 at many gates, and found no entrance till lie 
 sighted County Cork. John Walters and the 
 citizens of Cork were staunch, but in the higher 
 regions every one seemed changed. By clemency 
 and humour Henry had begun to win upon the 
 Irish fancy. Poynings had repaired to London, 
 leaving Father Henry in his post, and Father Henry 
 had in tnni retired in favour of Kildare. An Anjjlo- 
 Irish chief was ruling Dublin, and an English lady, 
 cousin to the King, was governing that Anglo-Irish 
 chief Kildare having now become a loynl officer, 
 his kitli ;in(l kin were suitors to the Countess of 
 Kildare for place and pay. Even Desmond, rallying 
 fur the King, rode down to Cork, and tried to snare
 
 CHAP. IV. — MORE WHITE ROSES. 1497. 327 
 
 the man for whom he had so lately risked his head, 
 A fleet ran out from Waterford, which city had 
 not yet forgiven the fugitive, and anchored in the 
 (/ove of Cork. As foes were coming up by sea and 
 land, the titular Duke and Duchess stood in ijeril 
 of their lives, until the faithful Walters counselled 
 them to fly while any road lay open for escape. 
 At dead of night, he and his son put them in a 
 skiff, fell down the river Lee, and passing through 
 the sliips at anchor, sailed with them for a deserted 
 rock called Leprous Island, lying off the headland 
 of Kinsale.
 
 328 
 
 
 CHAPTEE y. 
 
 C LEAKING THE GROUND. 
 
 1497-9. 
 
 1. What port was open to the fugitives from 
 Cork ? What mayor would follow them like Walters? 
 Philip had become so cool, they could not venture 
 on a Flemish harbour. France was closed to them 
 by Charles. They dared not land in Spain ; and 
 Venice was too far away. Nor could they rest on 
 Leprous Island, for an English fleet was on their 
 track. In something like despair, they listened to 
 a voice from Cornwall, where the Celtic commons 
 had been lately in a discontented mood. A Spanish 
 bark was at their sei'\dce, for the Spanish skippers 
 gave their ready help to any Rose of York. With 
 ninety men on board this Spanish bark, they sailed 
 for Whitesand Bay, and threw themselves on shore. 
 * Hake-hell,' cried Ileniy, when he heard the news, 
 'has landed in the west!' A fleet was instantly 
 despatched to Whitesand Bay. ' We have the knave 
 at last.' A tailor and a smith who joined the Duke 
 of York, informed him how the Cornish men had 
 lately marched to London Bridge, how they had 
 found the King despised, how no man raised a
 
 CHAP. V. — CLEARING THE GROUND. 1497-9. 329 
 
 lance for him, till they were near the Thames. They 
 had no general, and they had to turn, the tailor 
 added ; hut the King, although he got the better 
 of them in a push of pikes, had hardly dared to 
 press them in retreat. That King was offering them 
 his pardon, but the Cornish men despised him and his 
 gifts. Give them a general and they undertook to 
 crown his rival in a month. The fugitive listened, 
 like a man m desperate fortune, to these foolish 
 tales. Still unaware that he was not a soldier, 
 he secured his consort in St. Michael's Mount, and 
 marching with the tailor and the smith, he reached 
 the town of Bodmin, where a rabble from the mines 
 and hedges came into his camp and hailed him as 
 their king". 
 
 2. ' Who serves me now,' said Henry, more in 
 look than words, ' even though he come in at the 
 eleventh hour, will earn the wages of a day.' A 
 host of men sprang up to serve him ; for the blindest 
 partizan of York could see that, whether ' Rake-hell ' 
 were Plantagenet or Perkin, he could never more 
 escape. Daubeney marched into the west. The 
 Courtneys and Carews were soon afield. Brooke 
 leapt to horse, and Buckingham put on his mail. A 
 hundred friars went out to help their patron with 
 the spiritual arm. Except that Celtic rabble from 
 the mines and hedges, no one joined the Bose of 
 York ; and that poor rabble, in and out of whom a 
 band of friars kept passing, soon began to melt away. 
 A rumour ran among them that the New -Year's
 
 330 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 grain and ale were cursed, and all who ate and 
 drank of them were dying in their sins. It was 
 remembered how the Church had censured those 
 who lately marched against the King; the men, the 
 fields, the crops, the granaries ; and lo, the corn and 
 malt had all been turned to poison by the wrath of 
 God ! Too surely, they were fighting in an imblest 
 cause. They might be stiff in heart and stout in 
 limb, but who was strong enough to wrestle with 
 the unseen powers ? 
 
 3. Before Daubeney's troops could reach them, 
 they had summoned Exeter to yield, and findmg 
 more resistance than a mob could overcome, had 
 turned ofii" north towards Taunton, where the soldiers 
 coming from all quarters of the compass caught them 
 in a belt of steel. The Cornish men were hot for 
 fight, but York grew faint of heart as Daubeney 
 drew nigh. ' A sanctuary ! ' cried the luckless youth ; 
 ' I cannot stay and see my people slain.' He rode 
 to Bewley Abbey, a Cistercian cloister in the New 
 Forest, where the abbot gave him shelter, till the* 
 ofier of a pardon from the King induced him to come 
 out. No force was needed, for the Church was on 
 the regal side, and rights of sanctuary could be either 
 lengthened or abridged by Rome. Tlic King ap- 
 peared to speak him fair. His wife, already captured 
 in the west, was at the royal mercy ; and the hap- 
 less Rose of Yolk liad reason to believe that if he 
 yielded liis pretensions to the crown, his hfe and 
 honour would be safe.
 
 CHAP, v.— CLEARING THE GROUND. 1497-9. 331 
 
 4. The fight was done, and could not be re- 
 newed. What matter whether he were prince or 
 commoner ? By giving up his regal claim, he might 
 regain his freedom and recover the companionship 
 of his wife. On yielding, he would have to own 
 the fraud. But if the King might call him Osbek, 
 he was likely to forgive the rest. The Mayor of 
 Cork and his devoted son were prisoners, and the 
 lives of these true servants hung upon his lips. On 
 saying he was ' Osbek,' he was kindly greeted by 
 the King, who sent for Lady Catharine to his court. 
 The pair were lodged in Henry's house. To Lady 
 Catharine he was kind, for Lady Catharine was not 
 only young and beautiful, but was a cousin of the 
 King of Scots. To keep her from her lord, w^ithout 
 appearing to be harsh, he sent her with a message 
 to the Queen, in whose apartments she remained — 
 a royal guest and hostage for her cousin James. 
 ' This youth,' the shrewd Baimondo wrote, * has 
 vanished into smoke.' 
 
 5. Ayala seized the hour of victory to urge his 
 scheme of union. Morton gave him help. Those 
 bishops who were oftenest in Henry's closet, Bichard 
 Fox and William Smith, were warm supporters of 
 a Scottish marriage. William Warham, Master of 
 the Bolls, a man of higher reach than either Fox 
 or Smith, and oftener in the privy chamber, also 
 pressed the match. Assured of strong support at 
 Sheen, the Spanish proto-notary rode to Stii'ling. 
 James had ceased his raids, and every one was
 
 332 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 I 
 
 anxious to discuss the English terms. Ayala's object 
 was a secret, and a secret kept so well that even the 
 wily agents of the Signory, who learned that he had 
 some commission from the English King, inferred 
 that he was sent to bring about a match between 
 the Scotch and Spanish courts. James liked Ayala's 
 plan so well, that he appointed him commissioner 
 to the English King ; and thus a stranger in the 
 land was actually made ambassador from James to 
 Henry and from Henry to James. A truce was 
 signed, and somethmg better than a truce prepared. 
 6. Fernando's plans seemed ripening fast, but 
 still those rival Hoses were undipped. A pair of 
 youthful and mysterious guests at court, who were 
 received and lodged like princes, caused Fernando 
 some misgivings. Lady Catharine in the Queen's 
 apartments, always near her person, seemed to him 
 suspicious. Save that ' Osbek ' only saw his wife in 
 presence of other parties, he was not restrained. But 
 soon a chano-e came over his affairs. The thouo-ht 
 of an escape was put into his head. The road seemed 
 open, if he chose to go. He quitted London in 
 disguise, and was arrested in the act of flight. 
 This flight was given in evidence of a plot against 
 the King. Condemned to ]nd)lic shame, the youth 
 was fastened in a pillory, and when lie h;id been 
 hooted, pitied, and abused, according to the humours 
 of a crowd, he was conveyed into the Tower for 
 safety. From liis chamber to a coflin was a step. 
 Beside him in his prison lay that hapless Edward,
 
 CHAP. V. — CLEARING THE GROUND. 1497-0. 333 
 
 son of Clarence, who had been ' forgotten ' in the 
 Tower. The keepers let the young men see each 
 other and engage in foolish talk. They were accused 
 of plotting to escape ; were tried, condemned, and 
 sentenced to be put to death ! Could such a sen- 
 tence be enforced ? With ' Osbek ' there was little 
 pause. Stern judges, treating him as an alien, 
 ordered him to be hung on Tyburn tree. He had 
 a promise of his life ; but needs of state compelled 
 the council to enforce the law. John Walters and 
 his son, both true to him in life and death, were 
 judged to share his fate. All three were taken in 
 a cart to the accursed spot and hung. 
 
 7. With Edward, Earl of Warwick, there was 
 longer pause. Plantagenet had never been in arms ; 
 had never claimed the crown ; had never plotted to 
 upset the King. An effort to escape from prison 
 was not treason. But the King and Queen of Spain 
 were thirstinpf for his blood, Planta2fenet was to 
 them another Excellenta; and their daughter Catha- 
 rine could not mount a menaced throne. Few words 
 were said on either side. The times were harsh, and 
 men were used to tragic woes ; but secret poisoning 
 was a crime from which the Encflish soul recoiled. 
 Some letters out of Spain were shown, from which 
 the council gathered that the prince must die. Ten 
 months elapsed ; but in the last days of November 
 writs were issued for his execution ; and a prince of 
 the blood, a prisoner from his youth, was taken from 
 his cell, and hacked to death, in order that Infanta
 
 334 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 Catalina mio-lit not find a rival near her husband's 
 crown. ' The King/ as Bacon says, ' did not observe 
 that he did bring a kind of malediction on the mar- 
 riage.' Yet the fact was so. ' The Lady Catharine 
 herself/ the writer adds, 'a sad and religious woman, 
 long after, when King Henry the Eighth's resolution 
 of a divorce from her was first made known to her, 
 used some words that she had not ofiended, but it 
 was a judgment of God, for that her former marriage 
 was made in blood; meaning that of the Earl of 
 Warwick.' 
 
 It was Fernando's axe that clove his neck.
 
 335 
 
 . CHAPTER YI. 
 
 A HOUSE OF WOE. 
 1500-1. 
 
 1. But while the rope and axe were clearing 
 ground in England for the Princess Catharine to 
 come in, the curse invoked by Hebrew bard and 
 Moorish knight was working in her mother's house 
 in Spain. Don Juan, sickening in his honeymoon, 
 was dead. Too suddenly his soul had filled with 
 Marguerite's light and life. That lady, followed 
 into Spain by crowds of poets, cavaliers, and artists, 
 seemed to have no other care than studying how to 
 make her day one round of festive grace. Her 
 joyous spirits were too high for the reserved and 
 silent youth, whose years had passed in convents, 
 with a secretary of the Inquisition by his side. 
 ' Let them be parted for a time,' his leeches said. 
 ' No, no,' groaned Isabel ; ' whom God has joined 
 let no man put asunder.' And the prince had faded 
 from her sight. At Salamanca, fever seized upon 
 his feeble frame. By riding hard, Fernando was in 
 time to see him die, but Isabel had never seen 
 his face again. At nineteen years of age, this heir 
 of twenty crowns was laid in that especial home
 
 336 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF ^YALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 of the Dommlcans, the convent of Santo Tomas, 
 near Avila, which his mother had erected with a 
 portion of the money she had wrung from Moors 
 and Jews. His widow bore a son, but when this 
 heir of Spain was born, to Isabel's despair the child 
 was dead. 
 
 2. Juan and his son being gone, the ' curse of 
 Portugal ' stood next in order of succession, and her 
 husband thought he saw within his grasp the diadems 
 for which he had forgotten Jolm s remorse and mul- 
 tiplied the Excellenta's wrongs. The King and 
 Queen of Portugal crossed the frontier into Spain, 
 in order to receive the oaths of fealty, and in other 
 ways secure their future rights. In Seville and the 
 conquered lands they met with no rebuff. CastiUe, 
 an old and liberal country, made conditions. Aragon, 
 an older and more liberal country, raised the consti- 
 tutional question as to whether females could succeed. 
 It was a mooted point, and Isabel began to fear that 
 after all her crimes, and after all Fernando's crimes, 
 the union of Castille and Aragon was insecure. If 
 members of tlie Cortes could dispute lier children's 
 birthright while Fernando lived, what would they 
 fear to do when he was dead ? She said, in her 
 alarm, it would be better to have done with parley, 
 to dismiss the Cortes, to annul the fundamental pact, 
 and to subdue the country as Granada was sub- 
 dued. Apj)eal to codes and rules enraged her, and 
 she lonnfed to liold the kinndom as she held the 
 Caliphate, by force of aims. l>ut even in the
 
 CIlAr. VI. — A HOUSE OF WOE. 1500-1. 337 
 
 Aljaferia she heard a warning voice. *We stand 
 upon our oaths, we men of Aragon,' replied Antonio 
 (]e Fonseca ; 'we must look before we leap; for 
 \\liat you ask of us is hard to justify according to 
 I'ur usao'es and laws.' Worse thing's than leofal 
 ipiestions in the Casa Blanca and disloyal speeches 
 ill the Aljaferia were behind. In truth, the kindred 
 "f the murdered Friends of Lio-ht mio'ht well have 
 f'amd some pity for their Queen. While she was 
 A\'rangling with the deputies over points of law, the 
 (ilject of her care fell sick. Forebodings seized the 
 ( 1iild of Sin. She felt and said she was about to 
 (he. No bustle at the Aljaferia could rouse her 
 ^phits, and in giving birth to her first child she 
 died. 
 
 3. Miguel, her orphan son, was heir of Portugal 
 and Spain, of Sicily, Sardinia, part of Naples, both 
 the Indies, and the rest of their dependent states. 
 Though he had lost his consort, Manoel seemed to 
 have secured the object of his reign. A son of his 
 was heir of all the kino-doms from the Straits of 
 ]\Iessina to the outer ocean. But the vials were 
 not spent, as yet. Don Miguel withered in his crib 
 and died. 
 
 4. Juana, wife of Philip the Fair, was now the 
 heiress, and her infant Karl, an Austrian prince, 
 stood next in order of succession to the King and 
 Queen. The Catholic kingdoms were to pass into 
 a foreign house, and Catholic Spain would know her 
 
 VOL. I. z
 
 338 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 native kings no more. Nor was tlie bitter draught 
 commended to their lips by any grace on PhiUp's 
 part. That Austrian would not wait for Miguel's 
 death before he took the style of Prince of Castille. 
 Aleady his pretensions were unbearable. Juana, too, 
 was growing every year more liberal. She refused to 
 house her mother's spies. She would not take a 
 Spanish friar from Santa Cruz for her confessor. 
 She declined to live, as Isabel had lived, according 
 to monastic rules. A son of Kaiser Max, the Arch- 
 duke added to a winsome face a flighty temper and 
 a calculating brain. He was in daily want of coin, 
 and spent his fretful hours m counting up the ducats 
 he would have as King of Spain. He asked the King 
 and Queen for money, power, and recognition. If 
 the Kj.ng and Queen were slow in granting his 
 requests, he stormed against them and reproached 
 his wife. She was in love with Philip, and she strove 
 to satisfy him, even at her father's cost. Fernando 
 was beginning to regard his son-in-law and daughter 
 with a cold and dangerous kind of fear. 
 
 5. Would Manoel now remember Jolm's advice, 
 and seek to vindicate the royal maid ? Fernando 
 had two daugl iters at Granada. That Maria whom 
 the King of Portugal had once rejected, was become, 
 in consequence of all these deaths, a prize. She stood 
 the next in order to Juana. Should Junna's offspring 
 fail, j\I:iria would be Queen of Spain. When Manoel 
 hud laid her sister in the grave he sent proposals
 
 CHAP. VI. — A HOUSE OF WOE. 1500-1. 330 
 
 for her hand. If his proposals for the elder sister 
 b;td been treated as a scandal, these advances 
 It) Maria seemed no less than infamous. Maria 
 was related to him in the first degree, and 
 marriage in the first degree is contrary to a code 
 which neither pope nor council can suspend. But 
 Isabel had to ask herself the question — what if 
 Manoel were refused ? The Excellenta was at 
 Santa Clara ; and if Manoel were to marry her, he 
 could throw the country into civil strife. She 
 feared, and had good cause to fear, the chances of a 
 civil war. The whole resources of her realm were 
 taxed. From Sicily and Naples came a daily cry for 
 men, more men. A rising had occurred among the 
 workmen of Granada, which was hardly quelled 
 before a general insurrection broke along the 
 mountain ridges, from the Alpujarras almost to 
 Europa Point. Her armies were so hardly pressed, 
 that she was forced to yield whatever Portugal 
 might choose to ask. A treaty therefore was ar- 
 ranged at the Alhambra, and Maria. was conducted 
 to her sister's throne. 
 
 6. These risings of the Moors, provoked by shame- 
 less violation of the articles of surrender, proved how 
 little had been done towards conquering the con- 
 quered race. For weeks the rebels held a quarter 
 of the capital. For weeks they menaced the Alham- 
 bra. They were only got to lay aside then' arms 
 by promises that every article of the treaty should
 
 340 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1501. 
 
 be jDut ill force, and every cause of discontent be 
 done away. Ximenes would not keep these pro- I 
 mises ; and being backed by Isabel, lie was convert- j 
 ing the disarmed Mohammedans by force. A wail of 
 woe went up from the great city ; but the garrison 
 was strong and ready, and Gonsalvo de Cordova was | 
 at his post. The gates were closed ; the walls and ' 
 towers were manned ; and thouo-h the craftsmen 
 chafed, they could not drive the garrisons from these 
 walls and towers. But in the open country, where 
 the garrisons were thin, the people flew to arms and 
 leapt, to horse. A dozen fortresses were captured 
 in a week. Gonsalvo marched against them, and at 
 Huescar showed the world what Christian knights 
 could do, by giving up the town to sack, by putting 
 nearly all the men to death, and selling all the 
 rest, together with their wives, for slaves. The rising 
 spread. Fernando had to take the field ; and by 
 his sleepless energy had barely pacified the Alpu- 
 jarras when a still more threatening movement called 
 him to the west. Among the dales and passes of 
 the Red Sierras rising east of Honda, dwelt a race 
 of warlike Moors, whose rage the King and Queen 
 had striven to calm by promises of strict adherence 
 to the terms of peace. Deceived a dozen times, 
 these mountaineers unfurled their ancient fla,"'. 
 Alonzo, elder brotlier of Gonsalvo, led an army to 
 the Red vSierras, wlierc the Moors entrapped them 
 in an uuibusrndo, and routed them with fearful loss.
 
 CHAP. VI. — A HOUSE OF WOE. J 500-1. 341 
 
 Alonzo was among the slain. So great a victory- 
 sent thrills of terror through the Christian camps. 
 It seemed as if all Islam were about to rise ; and 
 s]iould the Sultan carry out his threat, and send 
 an army into Spain, the Caliphs might regam their 
 palace on the hill. Disgusted with the Cardinal, 
 whose breach of faith had caused this loss, the King 
 exclaimed to Isabel, ' Your priest has cost us dear ; 
 ill a few hours he has thrown away the conquests 
 'four lives.' Again Fernando had to call on every- 
 one for help, and ride away to Honda, where his 
 troops were gathering in their quarters for a hug 
 uf death. 
 
 7. The Queen was reeling in her mind. So 
 many graves about her feet, so many ghosts about 
 lier bed, so many troubles in her states, were more 
 than mortal frame could bear. Confession ceased 
 to bring her comfort. Acts of Faith no longer 
 roused her spirits. The husband of her youth was 
 causing her the keenest pangs. The two Juanas, one 
 her niece and one her child, were always in her 
 brain. She knew how much the great religious 
 orders feared their future Queen. They had begun 
 to slander her as they had done Enrique's child. If 
 they could hardly touch her birth, they could attack 
 her views. They said she was unsound of faith, 
 and hinted tlmt a girl unsound of faith must also 
 be unsound of mind. With all her dead about her 
 feet, and fretted by the vision of a truant husband
 
 342 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 and a disobedient child, the Qneen was loneher in 
 her purple hall at the Alhambra than that niece 
 in Santa Clara whom her acts had buried in a 
 foreign cell. 
 
 8. Alone in her secluded chamber, Catharine 
 waited for a signal to depart. Arrangements had 
 been made to celebrate her nuptials in the previous 
 fall. The English King had written to express his 
 joy, A challenge had arrived from English peers and 
 knights to break a lance with any gentlemen of ? 
 Spain in honour of the match. The Cardinal of 
 England had assumed a special patronage of her 
 union. Arthur had sent his love, expressing his 
 desire to see her, in a pretty note which Padre Ales- 
 sandro could transhite. The King, by crossing to 
 his town of Calais in a time of sickness, made 
 the personal acquaintance of her sister, the Arch- 
 duchess, whose exceeding beauty won his eye and 
 heart. At Christmas she had ratified the contracts 
 and espousals made for her by Puebla. Yet the 
 King, her father, would not let her go. There was 
 another prince to fear, another Pose of York to clip 
 and cast away. Plantagenet being gone, the Yorkist 
 party had begun to turn their eyes towards Edmond 
 de la Pole ; and then the council saw, a day too 
 late, that in tlieir eagerness to satisfy Fernando 
 they had killed a fawn and put a leopard in his 
 place. AVith a Plantagenet Uving, Edmond de la 
 Pole luid felt secure ; but when the last Plantagenet
 
 CHAP. VI. — A HOUSE OF WOE. 1500-1. 343 
 
 was slain, he was himself the head of all offence. 
 As next male heir of York, his life was in an enemy's 
 hand. An agent of the Kaiser tempted him to fly 
 by offers of support ; and after supping with some 
 Yorkist peers, and planning an invasion of the realm, 
 Pole slipt away in secret, crossed the sea, and harried 
 to the court of Max.
 
 344 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTEK YIL 
 
 A VEILED INFANTA. 
 1501. 
 
 1. Early on a bright October afternoon, a lady, 
 veiled from crown to slipper, stept on shore at 
 Plymouth from a Spanish ship. A crowd of barks 
 were tossing in the Sound, and every tower and- 
 steeple were ablaze with flags. Some parts of what 
 had been a Spanish fleet were riding near the Hoe, 
 with prelates, counts, and dames on deck, and 
 money, plates, and precious stones on board. The 
 counts and dames were worn and white, and all 
 seemed glad to set their feet on land. A church 
 which stood beside the mole invited them to enter, 
 and a priest being ready to begin his mass, the lan- 
 guage common to all services of the church soon 
 made these strangers feel at home. The lady veiled 
 from crown to shoe was Catharine, that sister of 
 the order of St. Francis who for thirteen years had 
 been the titular Princess of Wales. 
 
 2. She caught the first soft outline of the western 
 coast on an autumnal day, when she was worn by 
 fasting, sickness, and a stormy voyage, as weak in 
 frame as she was galled in mind. Her parting from 
 her parents had been strange. Her father was away
 
 CHAP. VII. — A VEILED INFANTA. 1501. 345 
 
 at Ronda, and lier mother was too sad and broken 
 to escort her to the coast. Her home had been 
 a house of dole ; and when she quitted the 
 Alhambra she had started on her voyage alone. 
 ' She would be longer on the road,' said Isabel, who 
 could only travel with an army of confessors, nuns, 
 and clerks. Her motive was to save expense. If 
 Catharine was alone, she might be lodged in wretched 
 villages and still more wretched inns. Aware how 
 strong the contrast might be when her daughter 
 landed on the English coast, for she had heard 
 that every one was getting ready to receive her, 
 Isabel begged the sovereign not to make too much of 
 Catharine, and not to spend his money on a foolish 
 show. She parted from her child, whose face she 
 was to see no more, at the Alhambra. Catharine 
 lodged in wayside inns ; she prayed before the 
 shrine of Santiago ; she increased her tram as she 
 approached the coast ; and having put to sea, was 
 blown by tempests round Cape Ortegal, along the 
 shores of the Asturias, and was driven for shelter 
 into that small harbour of Laredo, where the English 
 envoys who had come to seek her had been forced to 
 land. Her sufferings were so great, she feared to 
 face the sea again. Her ships were small and 
 slight ; her captain was a novice in his trade. All 
 England had been roused by tales of her adven- 
 tures, and the ablest sailor in the navy, Stephen 
 Brett, had gone to meet her and conduct her little 
 fleet to port.
 
 346 BOOK YI. PEIXCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 3. Wlien Catharine caught the welcome outhne 
 of her future home — the soft green sweep of down, 
 the fine white front of chff, the red and sparkHng 
 cove, on all of which a temperate sunshine lay — 
 her heart grew strong within her breast. A few 
 hours later, when she rode along the mole, her ear 
 drank in the hail and shout of those who Imed the 
 beach, and then she made a vow that, come to her 
 what might of either good or ill, she never would 
 go back to Spain, as Isabel her sister had returned 
 from Portugal, with broken heart. These cheers put 
 life into her whitening cheek. Already she had 
 heard in Spain that England was a merry isle. 
 Already she had heard that lords and knights would 
 come to meet her ; that the Round Table would be 
 spread again ; and that a chapter of two hundred 
 and thirty knights would be revived in honour of 
 her husband and herself But she had hardly 
 dreamt of such a welcome as she found. Her name, 
 her rosy cheek, her light blue eye, reminded people 
 of her EnMish blood. Old love and hate found 
 voice in these warm plaudits from the western 
 shores. In Yorkist eyes she was an English prin- 
 cess, and a princess with a clearer title than the 
 King. A daughter of the land, she came to be 
 the mother of a race of kings. * The Princess,' 
 wrote Alcares to liis royal mistress, ' could not 
 have been received witli greater joy, if slie had 
 been the Saviour of the world.' 
 
 4. The slii2) in which she came was laden with
 
 CHAP. VII. — A VEILED INFANTA. 1501. 347 
 
 her plates and jewels, and was crowded with the 
 servants of her household, and the magnates who had 
 come to see her dowry paid. Elvira Manuel, a sister 
 of the minister, Don Juan Manuel, then at Bruges, 
 had been appointed by the Queen her ' deputy.' 
 Elvira's actual rank was that of first lady of honour 
 and first lady of the bed-chamber ; but she was to 
 stand towards Catharine as a mother, and to see 
 that no one raised her veil and looked upon her 
 face until her nuptial day. Elvira's husband, Don 
 Pedro Manrique, was first chamberlain and mayor of 
 the palace. Don Inigo, her son, was master of the 
 ceremonies and master of the pages. Juan de Cuero 
 and his wife were master and mistress of the state 
 rooms ; but Cuero's foremost duty was to keep the 
 royal plate. Alonzo de Esquivel, Knight commander, 
 was her master of the hall. Maria de Kojas, Fran- 
 cisca de Silva, Beatrix de Blanca, and Martina de 
 Salazar, were her maids of honour. Maria de Bojas 
 was a daughter of Fernando's ablest foreign minis- 
 ter, and was herself as proud and able as her sire. 
 In waiting on these ladies were two female slaves ; 
 no doubt, two Moorish maidens from Granada, who 
 had been a part of Isabel's spoil. The Padre Ales- 
 sandro was her first chaplain and confessor. An al- 
 moner, a secretary, a cup-bearer, a marshal, a cliief 
 butler, a warder of the chapel, four equerries, 
 three gentlemen-in-waiting, a comptroller, a keeper 
 of the plate, a cook, a quarter -master, a clerk 
 of the stores, and purser followed. There was
 
 348 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 still a tail behind ; including sncli small officers as 
 a washer- woman, a waiter, and a sweep. Among 
 the persons who attended as a train of honour, were 
 Alonzo de Fonseca, Archbishop of Santiago, who 
 was still engaged with the affair of Alcala, and 
 Count de Cabra, one of the heroes of the Moorish 
 war. These eminent persons were commissioners for 
 the dowry, which they were to pay on seeing the 
 bridal rites performed and getting evidence that 
 the marriage was complete. 
 
 5. A crowd of knights and ladies from the 
 western shires came riding into Plymouth to receive 
 the Princess, bringing with them gifts and services, 
 and forming on the spot a circle like a court. She 
 stayed in Plymouth till her doAvry, plate, and stuff 
 were landed, and while messengers sped forward 
 to announce her coming to the Kmg. A little 
 rest and some good dinners set her up ; but the 
 provincial knights and dames were puzzled by 
 Elvira holding to the rule that Catharine must not 
 lift lier veil and show her face. Ayala, who had 
 stayed in London by the King's desire, pretending 
 to be waiting her arrival, but in secret busy with 
 the Scottish peace and marriage, came to join her, 
 and assume tlie main direction of her house ; but 
 he had no authority to break a rule laid down by 
 Isabel, and Catliarhie wore lier veil in public like 
 a Moorisli bride. 
 
 C). Willougliby de Brooke spurred down into the 
 west, attended by lied Dragon, Mont Orgueil, and
 
 CHAP. YII. — A VEILED INFANTA. 1501. 349 
 
 Richmond King -at -Arms, to meet her grace at 
 Exeter, to ride before her through the counties, 
 and to furnish her with horses, carriages, and lodg- 
 ings on the road. On quitting Exeter, slie supped 
 and slept at Honiton, Crewkeme, Sherborne, Shaft- 
 esbury ; lodging in the abbey when there was an 
 abbey, in the parsonage when there was a par- 
 sonage, and in the absence of either parsonage or 
 abbey at an inn. Two miles from Amesbury, on 
 the Avon, she was met by Thomas Earl of Surrey, 
 Lord High Treasurer, and his wife. Surrey's wife, 
 Elizabeth, who held the titular rank of Duchess of 
 Norfolk, was appointed mistress of the household. 
 Surrey was attended by two prelates, two mitred 
 abbots, two barons, and six knights, who carried her 
 in state to Amesbury, where she dmed and slept. 
 No words could pass between her English escort and 
 her Spanish servants ; but the titular Duchess had 
 a man named HoUybrand in her train who spoke 
 Castillian, and by means of Hollybrand some words 
 of welcome were conveyed from Surrey and his wife 
 to Catharine in her native tongue. On every side 
 the princess saw what pains were taken for her com- 
 fort ; pains so striking when compared against the 
 freezing farewells of her kith and kin. In sending 
 her a w^elcome to his country, Henry begged of her 
 to love and trust him in the days to come, and 
 look upon his country as her own. He told her 
 he was coming with her prhice, Arthur of Win-
 
 350 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 Chester, who, like the Kmg hhnself, was said to be 
 on fire till he could look upon her face. 
 
 7. Fonseca and Elvira said tliis license could 
 not be allowed. Wliat ! look upon the maiden's 
 face ? Their orders were to hide her like a Moor- 
 ish bride. Fernando was so sure that Henry would 
 attempt to cheat him, that he laid two ' strict m- 
 j unctions and commands ' on the Archbishop of San- 
 tiago ; first, that he was not to pay one ducat of 
 Catharine's dowry till the marriage-rites had been 
 performed ; and next, that he was not to suffer 
 either king or prince to see her till the bridegroom 
 had obtained a right to draw aside her veil in 
 church.
 
 351 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FIRST INTERVIEW. 
 1501. 
 
 1. How could a man who trusted neither wife 
 nor cliild, put faith in such a schemer as the 
 Tudor prmce, whom he had found a mate in guHe, 
 and feared to find a match in fraud ? The Eng- 
 lish King might still cry off, propose another wife 
 for Arthur, and retain his daughter Catharine as 
 a pledge. Suppose the Prince, himself a comely 
 boy, should see no beauty in his Spanish bride ? 
 All English eyes were spoiled. The Queen was per- 
 fect in her charms ; her court was full of lovely 
 maids ; in every park and street a man might 
 see such faces as recalled his peerless Queen. Nor 
 was Fernando's daughter fakest of her train. The 
 English King had seen her sister, and might fancy 
 Catalina was a younger version of Juana. As an 
 artist and a worshipper of beauty, Henry had re- 
 quested that no plain maid of honour should be sent 
 with Catharine. Gentle birth was much, but 
 youth and comeliness were more. If they were
 
 352 BOOK VI. — PEINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 beautiful, tliese damsels might attract adorers ; 
 and by marrying in the country they would live 
 in Catharine's sight. The loveliest damsels had 
 been chosen as companions of her voyage, and 
 in the light of their exceeding beauty she might 
 seem to Arthur flat and dull. Suppose the Prince 
 refused to have her? How could Spain compel 
 him ? Contracts were but words. There was the rite 
 at Bewdley Manor, where the Prince had pledged 
 his troth ; but here Fernando felt no safer than 
 he felt on secular ground. Grave doubts existed 
 as to whether that solemnity was lawful. It 
 was secret, and the Church forbade clandestine 
 marriages. Smith, Bishop of Lincoln, who per- 
 formed the rite, had stated in the chapel that 
 the ceremony was irregular, and asked a secular 
 peer to read the contract in his place. A pre- 
 late, he incurred the danger of suspension from his 
 office if he read the service. Puebla had been 
 forced to interfere. As papal agent, he declared the 
 Pope's approval of that secret rite. Nay, more, the 
 King of England and the Queen of Spain required 
 it. What had Smith to fear ? Smith answered 
 that he had his doubts ; and Puebla, who covdd 
 see how easily these doubts might touch his mis- 
 tress in the future, sent a full account of wliat the 
 Bishop liad observed to Spain. Fernando meant to 
 run no risk, to put no hostage in a rival's hand, 
 to have no child sent back to him in shame, and
 
 CHAP. VIII. — FIRST INTERVIEW. 1501. 3j3 
 
 SO his orders had been given that Catharine's veil 
 should not be Hfted by the Prince until they met 
 in church. 
 
 2. But how could the Archbishop and duefia 
 carry out this rule ? A king is master of his house. 
 On English soil Fernando had no voice, except so 
 far as Henry might allow. If either King or 
 Prince should meet them on the road, and ask to 
 see the bride, what man would dare to answer 
 that he should not lift her veil ? As neither King 
 nor Prince was yet aware of these commands being 
 laid, Ayala, knowing how a Tudor would receive such 
 news, felt anxious to avoid a scene. The King should 
 be informed. If they could reach him in the outset 
 of his journey, he might turn aside and wait for 
 them at Sheen. Alh wrangles would be spared, 
 and Catharine's face might still be veiled from 
 English eyes. At Dogmersfield, in Hants, the house 
 of Oliver, Bishop of Bath and Wells, the Spaniards 
 heard that Henry and his son were on the road. 
 At once it was proposed to warn them ; and Ayala, 
 as a man who knew them well, rode forward towards 
 East Hampstead, which the King and Prince had 
 lately left. If any messenger could have stopped 
 the King, Ayala was the man. Not many weeks 
 had passed since Henry had requested him to 
 wait in England till the Princess came. No man 
 knew more of Henry's mind than he ; no man was 
 busier with the royal hopes than he ; but Henry 
 was a prince not easily tiu'ned aside.- 
 
 VOL. I. A A
 
 334 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1437-1501. ^ 
 
 f 
 
 3. Two miles from Dogmersfield, Ayala met 
 
 the royal party riding towards the Bishop's house. 
 
 The Kinof and Prince were amblino^ like two 
 
 knights in front, with prelates, peers, and cavaliers 
 
 behind them. ' Stay, your highness,' cried Ayala. 
 
 Henry reined liis horse, and listened to the proto- 
 
 notary. They must go as they had come. 
 
 The lady Catliarine was at Dogmersfield ; her 
 
 Spanish servants were about her ; and by order of 
 
 Ayala's master, Catharine could receive no visit, 
 
 see no company, until the morning of her nuptial 
 
 rites. The King sat musing in his saddle, as his 
 
 mythic Hero might have sat and mused. The boy 
 
 who bore that Hero's name was at his side. Behind 
 
 him rode the prelates, earls, and councillors, who 
 
 helped him to conduct his realm, and far as eye 
 
 could reach the road was all agog with pages, 
 
 knights, and men-at-arms. Before him sat Ayala, 
 
 in his hood and gown, forbidding him, in his own 
 
 realm, to see a lady who was called by every 
 
 tongue Princess of Wales. By order of the King 
 
 of Spain ! What could Fernando mean ? He 
 
 called a council on the sjiot — the spot an open 
 
 meadow on tlie road fn^m Winchfield ; when he 
 
 told liis barons what Ayala said, and asked them 
 
 whether, in his proper kingdom, Catharine could be 
 
 hidden from his sight, and that of her contracted 
 
 groom? IMic temporal and spiritual peers made 
 
 answer with one voice that, since the lady was 
 
 on EiiLilish s(jil, she was prulccicd bv llie En<»'lish
 
 CHAP. VIII. — FIRST INTERVIEW. 1501. 355 
 
 l;iw. These Spanish servants had no power to shut 
 \\('r doors; and Henry, as the lord of all, might see 
 lier when and how he pleased. 
 
 4. ' Then follow,' cried the King, and, striking 
 s])nrs into his horse, he rode to Dogmersfield, and 
 ere the Spanish servants knew what message had 
 l»oen given, he was within the Bishop's gates. In 
 l)()ots and belt, with sword and cloak, he pushed 
 liis way into the house. What page or abigail 
 could stay his foot ? The Count de Cabra put liim- 
 self in front, but Henry passed the hero of Lucena 
 as he might have done the youngest page. Fon- 
 seca, counting on his clerical habit, tried to bar 
 his way. ' She is retired within her room, your 
 highness,' he began. 'I will see and speak with 
 her,' said Henry, * even if she were gone to 
 bed.' Fonseca had to go and tell his mistress that 
 the Kinpf was come and would not be denied. 
 She seemed to like this greeting well, and walked 
 into an outer chamber, called the third, where 
 she was told he was. He spoke to her in French, 
 and was amused and grieved to find that she had 
 still that tongue to learn. She spoke no language 
 save Castillian. She observed that Henry's tones 
 were sweet, for he was gentle with the child, 
 whose honest face, blue eyes, and sunny hair were 
 pleasant in his sight. 
 
 5. Too young to ride as Henry rode, the Prince 
 came after him, all slushed and soiled with the 
 November rain ; and, after washing hands and
 
 356 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 changing clothes, he joined his father, who con- 
 ducted him to the second chamber, where the 
 Prince and Prmcess saw each other face to face. 
 The scene was quaint and droll. They bowed and 
 kissed. Each held the other's palm, and spoke his 
 love, the boy in English and the girl in Spanish. 
 Councillors and bishops stood about. When Arthur 
 told his bride he loved her well, a bishop turned 
 his phrases into Latin, which he whispered to a 
 Spanish priest, who turned liis love into Castillian. 
 Henry put their hands into each other's, when he 
 bade them pledge their mutual troth. Camelot 
 sighed and Aragon smiled, and love was chiefly 
 made through two young pairs of eyes. When 
 supper, which they ate apart, was done, the King 
 and Prince walked back to Catharine's room — the 
 inner room this time — and there, in spite of all 
 Fonseca had to urge about his rule, they stayed 
 till late at night. Elvira frowned, as a duena 
 should do. Cabra made his silent protest, for the 
 hero was a knight who kept his word. But if her 
 ladies stared at these, free English manners, Catha- 
 rine liked her guests, and, sending for musicians, 
 she began to dance. If Arthur was too shy to lead 
 her out, he danced a figure with his governess, Lady 
 Guilford, Catharine's soutliern dances would be 
 new to King and Prince, and Catharine tripped and 
 twirled till Henry rose.
 
 357 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DAYS OF COURTSHIP. 
 1501. 
 
 1. Next day the King rode back to Sheen, 
 the name of which he changed to Richmond, where 
 he told the Queen of his adventures on the road ; 
 his meeting with Ayala in the fields ; his pricking 
 on to find the Princess ; his encounter with her 
 proto-notary ; and his amusing evening spent in 
 Catharine's room. He added that he Hked her 
 person and her manner, and that Arthur was en- 
 chanted with Ms future bride, 
 
 2. Not only as a mother who desired the wel- 
 fare of her son, but as a woman who had suftered 
 in her youth, Elizabeth felt cheered. For peace, 
 she thought, depended on the birth of heirs. As 
 yet, she had to lean on two lives mainly ; Arthiu-, 
 Prince of Wales, and Henry, Duke of York. Her 
 daughters weighed but little in the scale. Of 
 course their rights were good in law ; but 
 English law had never yet been known to guard 
 
 VOL. I. A A 2
 
 358 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 a woman's rights. No English queen had ever 
 reigned alone, and in her native strength. Eliza- 
 beth was herself the lawful queen ; but she was 
 only reigning as her husband's wife. Nor could 
 she hope her children would succeed where she, 
 and others of then- race, had failed. She longed 
 to see more heirs about her knee ; male heu^s ; 
 accepted heirs ; indisputable heii's. The King was 
 still more restive than herself; his regal pride, 
 his turn for peace, his hope of founding one great 
 monarchy on English soil, conspired to rouse in him 
 that passion for male offspring which is seldom dead 
 in any human soul. In him, this passion glowed 
 and raged. Prince Arthur's liking for his winsome 
 bride gave both his parents promise that their 
 court might soon be gladdened by the light of 
 future kings. 
 
 3. A pale and oval face, a pair of dreamy eyes, a 
 dehcate lip and mouth, gave Arthur an air and 
 grace not found in his robust and sturdy brother. 
 Henrj was at ten as big as Arthur at fifteen. 
 Though lithe and comely, Arthur caused men's eyes 
 to turn from him in fear. He was a prince of 
 Camelot, a prince of song and legend ; and they 
 turned with hope from Dr. Bereworth's patient, to 
 the ruddy cheek and stalwart frame of Henry, 
 Duke of York, 
 
 4. Elate with joy, and tasting of a freedom 
 she had never known in Spain, the Princess rode to
 
 .CHAP. IX. — DAYS OF COURTSHIP. 1501. 359 
 
 Chertsey Abbey on the Thames ; the abbey built 
 by Erkenwald, the famous Saxon saint, who was to 
 be so much with Catharine in her bridal days. At 
 Chertsey she was lodged and feasted ; and the 
 next day came towards Kingston, where a goodly 
 company of lords and ladies — Edward Duke of 
 Buckingham, George Earl of Kent, Edward Lord 
 Dudley, Wilham Lord Stourton, the Abbot of Bury, 
 and a band of gentlemen and pages, gave her a 
 merry * welcome to the realm.' With lengthening 
 train she rode — the Lord High Constable in front, 
 the squires and yeomanry behind her, to St. George's 
 Fields, near Lambeth, where a still more goodly 
 company stood ready to receive her. There she first 
 saw Henry, Duke of York. Near Henry stood that 
 Thomas Savage who had signed the treaty of Medina 
 del Campo, and in compliment to her had just 
 been raised to the Archbishopric of York. Near 
 him, again, were Richard Fox, Lord Privy Seal 
 and Bishop of Winchester ; Henry, Earl of 
 Essex ; Father Thomas, Abbot of St. Albans ; and 
 Father John, Abbot of Westminster ; with upwards 
 of a hundred barons, knights, and gentlemen of 
 rank. Each baron was attended by his squire 
 and page, adorned with feather, sword, and cloak. 
 So brave a show had not been seen for many a 
 year ; and not the least worth seeing was that 
 boy of ten who sat his charger like a king, and 
 parleyed with the bride, though her dueiia scowled
 
 360 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 in his unflinching face. The Princess was beside 
 herself with joy. 
 
 5. Yet near her mule, and near the Duke of 
 York, stood two great courtiers, cap in hand, whose 
 blood was by and bye to mingle in the veins of one 
 who was to be her rival in the palace, her successor 
 on the throne. These two great courtiers were 
 Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey, and Sir WiUiam 
 Boleyn, one of a hundred knights who rode in com- 
 pany of ihe Duke of York. 
 
 6. Thomas, Earl of Surrey, was a son of that ' 
 John Howard, first Duke of Norfolk of the Howard 
 line, who fell on Bosworth Field. A young and 
 splendid captam, brave as Bayard, prudent as Gon- 
 salvo, he had opened his career beneath the happiest 
 stars. Having learnt the art of war from Charles 
 the Bold, he had returned to England, where his 
 father was devoted to the House of York, and served 
 with high repute at Lincoln, Banbury, and Barnet. 
 He had won the woman of his heart, Elizabeth 
 Tilney, widow of his cousin. Sir Humphrey Bourchier, 
 and had seen his house at Ashewolthorpe grow 
 merry with a numerous offspring. Honours had 
 been showered upon him. He was created Earl of 
 Surrey ; he was elected Knight of the Garter ; he 
 was made the Sheriff of two counties. On the field 
 of Bosworth he had led the archers, and, except the 
 King, had been the greatest hero on the losing side. 
 But Fortune had betrayed her favourite. His honours
 
 CHAP. IX. — DAYS OF COURTSHIP. 1501. 3G1 
 
 lost, his lands escheated, and his liberty restrained, 
 Surrey had moped for many months a prisoner in 
 the Tower. A striking word had set the hero free. 
 When Simnel was at Newark, on his way to London, 
 the Lieutenant of the Tower had gone into his cell, 
 and offered him the keys. ' My lord, you are at 
 liberty to go, if you so please.' But Surrey would 
 not take the keys. ' The King has sent me hither ; 
 and I will not stir till he command me hence.' The 
 false Lieutenant must have been surprised. ' On 
 your allegiance, sir,' the Earl had said, ' I charge you, 
 if the King is yet alive, to bring me to him, that I 
 may assist his Grace.' A knight, susceptible to 
 knightly feeling, Henry had embraced his prisoner, 
 set him free, restored his blood, and given him 
 back the property of his wife. Thomas, his eldest 
 son, was decorated with the George and Garter. 
 Edward, his second son, was knighted in the field. 
 Elizabeth, his wife, was mistress of the Princess's 
 household. As the crown of all, his heir was mar- 
 ried to the peerless Lady Anne Plantagenet, sister of 
 the Queen. This lovely woman had been pledged 
 to Phihp the Fair ; she had been courted by Manoel 
 of Portugal ; she had been asked in marriage by the 
 Prince of Scotland; but the heu- of Surrey had 
 secured her. No one doubted that this higlily 
 favoured soldier would regain the ducal coronet 
 which his father, John, had lost, and which his wife, 
 Elizabeth, was allowed by royal grace to wear. High
 
 362 BOOK YL — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 service was atoning for bis &st and last offence. He 
 signed the treaty of Etaples with the King of 
 France ; he fought against the northern rebels and 
 the titular Duke of York ; he was assisting in the 
 match of Princess Margaret with the King of Scots. 
 Great offices were showered upon him and his family. 
 He was General of the Forces, Admiral in the Nar- 
 row Seas, Sub-warden of the Marches, and Lord 
 High Treasurer of England. 
 
 7. Sir WiUiam Boleyn was a son of Godfrey 
 Boleyn, of the Jewry, mercer, alderman, and mayor. 
 Godfrey was a son of Geoffrey Boleyn, also of the 
 Jewry ; in the little church of which locality these 
 worthies sleep. A family of French descent, who 
 came to London for the sake of trade, the Boleyns 
 chose to stay in England after they had filled their 
 chests and ceased to toil in mart and shop. Yet 
 they had never dropped their French connexion. 
 As they grew in riches, adding house to house, and 
 park to park, they had been lifting up their eyes 
 in wedlock, and improving lowly blood by that of 
 nobly-born and handsome wives. Sir Godfrey, 
 mayor and city knight, had married Anne, the only 
 child of Thomas, Baron Hoo and Hastings ; and 
 Sir William, eldest son of Godfrey by this heiress 
 of the Hoos, had married Lady Margaret, second 
 daughter and co-heiress of the Earl of Carrick and 
 Ormonde. Anne and Lady Margaret had brought 
 into the Boleyn family a claim, not only on the
 
 CHAP. IX.— DAYS OF COURTSHIP. I.':i01. 3G3 
 
 baronies of Hoo and Hastings, but on the earldoms 
 of Carrick and Ormonde, and in more remote de- 
 gree on the earldom of Wiltshire. Married to the 
 daucfhter of a man who held two earldoms, and had 
 some pretensions to a third, Sir William had retired 
 from business in the Jewry and become a gentleman 
 at coiu't. The lord of Blickling Hall and Hever 
 Castle ; one a great estate in Norfolk, and the second 
 a delicious seat in Kent ; could make a figure with 
 the best ; and nothing but the best would satisfy 
 this offspring of the city knight. He matched his 
 eldest son. Sir Thomas, with Lady Elizabeth Howard, 
 Surrey's eldest daughter, and he gave 'them Hever 
 Castle as a home. This marriage brought Sir Wil- 
 liam what he wanted : a connexion with the highest 
 orders in the kingdom. Lady Elizabeth was the 
 daughter of a duchess, and her brother was married 
 to a sister of the Queen. Sir William Boleyn there- 
 fore was a close connexion of the royal family ; and 
 his son, Sir Thomas, and that son's wife, Lady Eliza- 
 beth, a woman of entrancing beauty, were persons 
 in attendance on the King and Queen. 
 
 8. Not dreaming of the webs which Fate was 
 weaving for them down in Kent, the Duke of York 
 and Catharine rode together from St. George's Fields 
 to Lambeth House. The Cardinal who had made 
 himself the patron of her love-affairs, was gone to 
 his account ; and Father Henry Deane, Augustine 
 monk and Deputy in Ireland, had succeeded Mor-
 
 364 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 ton as Archbishop of Canterbury. Deane had also 
 taken upon hhnself a special patronage of the match. 
 Beneath his roof at Lambeth, Catharine was to rest 
 until her entry into London and her marriage to 
 the Prince of Wales.
 
 3G5 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 BRIDALS. 
 1501. 
 
 1. Prince Arthur came to the Wardrobe, in 
 Blackfriars, t6 be in readiness for his bridal day. 
 He was not strong enough to bear fatigue, and 
 Henry wished him to be near St. Paul's. The King 
 and Queen dropped down the Thames from Sheen 
 to Paris Gardens, then a pretty house belonging 
 to the monks of Bermondsey, from which the Queen 
 went on to Lambeth House ; while Henry, who 
 had not seen the Princess since his interview at 
 Dogmersfiald, pushed over in his barge to Baynard's 
 Castle, near the river Fleet. He had rebuilt this 
 ancient castle, not as in the Norman days, with keep 
 and moat, with tower and wall, but in the new 
 domestic style ; rebuilt it as a house and home, 
 in which the Queen could hold her court with- 
 out being fretted by the sight of mounted guns 
 and men equipped for war. This house, a type of 
 his new England, he proposed to give the Prince 
 and Princess for their future home. 
 
 2. The Queen was pleased with the Infanta, 
 whom she found in company of her maids, duefias.
 
 366 BOOK VI, — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 and confessors. If the Spanish girl was not of 
 ravishing beauty, like her sister the Archduchess, 
 yet, compared against such girls as Beatrix and Inez, 
 she was bright and fair. Her women wore a dress 
 of black and white, and had their veils drawn close 
 about the face. Elizabeth thought her son was happy 
 in his choice. The King was free of hand ; not spar- 
 ing either pains or money to adorn her future home ; 
 and sending into foreign parts for plate ' against 
 the marriage of my lord the prince.' He hired 
 good houses in the city for his Spanish guests, 
 and gave to each a proof of his esteem : — to the 
 Archbishop of Santiago, five hundred marks ; to the 
 Bishop of Majorca, four hundred marks ; to Count 
 de Cabra, three hundred marks ; and to the rest 
 according to their rank. 
 
 3. The nuptial day was fixed for Sunday, Novem- 
 ber the fourteenth, a local festival of St. Erken- 
 wald, the Saxon saint. Tliis local festival was kept in 
 Cheape and Lombard Street as well as in the cloister 
 and the church ; St. Erkenwald being to London 
 citizens what St. Thomas was to those of Canterbury. 
 A Saxon prince, the saint had spent his time in read- 
 ing holy books and ])iii]ding cells for monks and 
 nuns, until King Sebba had compelled him to accept 
 a pastoral staff. As bishop of London he had 
 laboured in his office many years ; had uuicli en- 
 larged St. Paul's; h.id gained high privileges for 
 the altar ; and had left the citizens his sacred dust. 
 
 I
 
 CHAP. X. — BRIDALS. 1501. 3G7 
 
 So potent was this dast that ahnost every one 
 was cured who knelt before his shrine. A chip 
 of wood from his horse-litter had cured diseases 
 after he was dead. St. Erkenwald was the popular 
 London saint. His day was given to prayer and 
 sport. His ashes were the consecration of St. 
 Paid's, where crowds of penitents and pilgrims 
 thronged his shrine, and drew from him a sacred 
 and refining fire. 
 
 ^4. What priest and monk could do to bring a bless- 
 ing on the nuptial day was done. The saints were 
 all invoked. A figure of St. Catharine was arrayed 
 in costly robes, and taught to comj)liment the royal 
 maid. The cells and cloisters rang with praise of 
 Spain. From distant convents monks marched up 
 to London, and increased the general stir and joy. 
 All bishops were enjoined to throw their houses 
 open and to spread their boards with meat and 
 drink. But few required this hint from Deane. The 
 Church regarded Catharine as her child, and Catha- 
 rine's union with the Prince as her peculiar work. 
 Nor were the temporal peers behind the spmtual 
 peers. Along the river bank the houses were ablaze 
 with flags and streamers. Every one put on liis 
 badge and cognizance. All servants were enjoined 
 to don their masters' liveries, and the royal servants 
 were so numerous that the streets seemed streaked 
 with Tudor green and white. A gallant wore his 
 lady's colours, and his form of greeting w^as a com-
 
 368 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 pliment to the sex. Nor were the citizens behind 
 the peers in festive and pictorial pomp. They wore 
 their brightest robes, and dressed their shops with 
 flags and poles. A vat of ale was broached in every 
 street. A table stood at almost every door. So 
 great a holiday had not been known in London since 
 the civil wars had broken out. 
 
 5. On Friday morning, Henry, Duke of York, 
 arrived at Catharine's door, attended by a gallant 
 band, to lead her through the City, where she had 
 not yet been seen, and lodge her at the Bishop's 
 palace in the shadow of St. Paul's. This palace 
 was untenanted ; for Savage, who had hved there, 
 was removed to York; and William Warham, his 
 successor in the see of London, was not yet in- 
 stalled. The traditional palace of the Saxon prince, 
 St. Erkenwald, was placed at Catharine's ser- 
 vice by the church. The Duke of York, already 
 taller than herself, though he was six years younger, 
 set her on a mule with gorgeous housings, and con- 
 veyed her through the gateways of the bridge, up 
 Fish Street Hill, by Gracechurch Street, and so 
 through Cornhill, past the Stock market, into 
 Cheape, througli thronging crowds, and imder 
 arches, flags, and })oles. The Duke was on her 
 right, the pajjal legate on lier left ; and thus it 
 chanced, as men recalled the fact in after years, 
 that when the young Lifarita entered London, she 
 Avas seen by every one between her Jiiture husband
 
 CHAr. X. — BRIDALS. 1501. 3G9 
 
 and the minister of Rome. All London flocked to 
 see the Princess enter, and to bid her welcome as an 
 English girl come home. Near London Bridge a 
 group of mummers played for her the story of 
 St. Catharine. Near the Standard in Cornhill, three 
 houses had been taken for the King, the Queen, and 
 Prince of Wales. A group of yeomen of the guard 
 in Tudor colours filled the street below. In Cheape 
 the Mayor and Sheriffs stayed her march by an 
 address, a pageant, and a psalm. At every porch 
 a priest came out with acolyte and choir ; from 
 every steeple rang a peal of bells ; from every 
 window hung a flag ; from every conduit ran a 
 stream of wine. Each street through which she 
 rode that day was filled with noise and colour ; 
 here a City guild with horn and tabard ; there a 
 monkish brotherhood with chant and crucifix ; and 
 here again, a troop of men-at-arms, a band of water- 
 men, a company of apprentice boys, with all the 
 lasses of their love, as frisky and as noisy as the 
 men. 
 
 6. The royal maid was like a star. Arrayed in 
 gold and silk, she wore a great round hat, from 
 under which her bright reel tresses floated in the 
 wind. Elvira wore a nun-like dress, a habit black 
 as night, with hanging sleeve of serge, and band 
 of linen round her brow. The maids of honour, 
 Inez, Beatrix, Maria, and Francisca, sat on mules ; 
 for none of these poor riders could be got to 
 VOL. I. • B B
 
 370 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 mount an English jennet. Everything was don^ 
 to gratify her pride and stimulate her love. A ladt 
 held the rein for each of her four maids of honouK 
 The Archbishop of Santiago rode abreast with th$ 
 Archbishop of York, the Bishop of Majorca with th| 
 Bishop of Winchester, the Count de Cabra with the 
 Duke of Buckingham, and so on through her long and 
 splendid train. But no one in that gay procession 
 through the City took the public eye so much, 
 nor dwelt upon the mind so long, as that stout 
 boy and that fair woman riding side by side ; a 
 papal legate on their flank, an abbess-hke dueiia 
 in their rear ; the gallant boy and rosy woman 
 answering to the cheers with stately courtesies and: 
 beaming smiles. Before she passed into her chamber 
 for the night, she knelt and prayed before St. Erken- 
 wald's shrine. 
 
 7. On Sunday, November 14, St. Erkenwald's' 
 local festival, the Duke of York again came for 
 her to the Bishop's house. He came as soon as 
 it was day ; for Catharine was to be a wife by ten 
 o'clock. When all was ready for the march, he led 
 her from lier chamber to the church, attended by 
 Elizabeth Duchess of Norfolk, mistress of her house- 
 hold, by Elvira lier duena, by the maids of honour, 
 and a flutter of the foremost peers and ladies in 
 the kingdom. As she stept into the street all eyes 
 were fixed on her attire ; a veil of silk and pearls 
 wliieli bid lier face ; a gown of ample width, stuck
 
 CHAP. X. — BRIDALS. 1501. 371 
 
 out below the waist with hooj^s. A blare of trumpets 
 greeted her, while cannon fired, and bells flung out 
 their music on the air. He led her up the nave 
 into the transept, where a stage had been erected, 
 and where Arthur and his knights and pages were 
 in waiting for the bride. As well became a prince 
 of Camelot, her bridegroom, Arthur, was arrayed 
 from cap to shoe in spotless white. All those who 
 had become her friends by helping to promote 
 the match were present in the church. Her 
 patron, Deane, was ready to perform the rite. 
 Fox, Bishop of Winchester, King, Bishop of Bath 
 and "Wells, and Smith, Bisiiop of Lincoln, were 
 arrayed in full pontificals in honour of the day. A 
 crowd of bishops, mitred abbots, deans and priors, 
 stood near the platform. Nave and aisle were 
 filled. The King and Queen looked down on the 
 imposing scene. When Catharine reached the plat- 
 form, Deane began the service, that in fusing two 
 young lives in one was meant to bind two great 
 and powerful nations to pursue a common course. 
 The Count de Cabra gave aw^ay the bride ; the 
 Archbishop of Santiago and the Bishop of Majorca 
 joined in tlie recitals and responses. Stepping 
 from the platform, Arthur and his bride advanced 
 in full procession with the prelates, followed by a 
 band of singers and a press of peers and knights, 
 to the great altar -steps, where all the com|)any 
 knelt down before St. Erkenwald's tomb. Then mass
 
 I 
 
 372 BOOK VI. — PRINCESS OF WALES. 1497-1501. 
 
 was said and canticle was sung by the attendant ; 
 priests and choir. No match of English prince! 
 had ever seemed more pleasing to the popular: 
 heart ; no marriage rite had ever been conducted ' 
 with a higher pomp. When Deane pronounced ai 
 blessing on the bride and groom, the great Cathedral 
 seemed to sigh with the response — Amen !
 
 I 
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 FIRST BOOK. 
 
 Chap. I. — 1. Anales de la Corona de Aragoi}, compiiestos por 
 Geronymo Zurita (Zaragoza, IGIO), lib. xx. cap. G5. 
 
 2. Coleccion de documentos ineditos para La Historia de Espamt, 
 por D. Miguel Salva y D, Pedro Sainz de Baranda, xviii. 271. 
 The best portrait known to me of Don Juan is in the Adoration 
 picture by Miguel Zitoz ; a picture which has recently been trans- 
 ferred from tlie Ministry of Public Works in Madrid to the National 
 Collection. It is not yet liung and numbered ; but a photograjih 
 has been taken of it by M. Laurent for his series, in which it bears 
 the number 533. 
 
 3. Historia critica de la Tnquisicion, por Juan Antonio Llorente 
 (Madrid, 1822), c. 5. art. 1 ; Bibliotheca Hispana Vetus, auctore 
 Nicolao Antonio (Matriti, 1788), i. 132 ; Bibliotheca Lusitana, por 
 Diego Barbosa Machado (Lisboa, 1741), i. 76 ; Yanguas y Miranda, 
 Diccionavio de Historia y Avtigiiedades de Navarra^ lib. i. c. 4 ; 
 Stirling, Annals of the Artists of Spain, iii. 84-6. 
 
 4. Tropheos y Antiguedades de la imperial Cii/dad de Zaragoza 
 (Barcelona, 1039), 170-6; Zaragoza en el Bolsillo : breve reseTia 
 historica de la capital de Aragon, por D. Romualdo P. Altafnj 
 (Zaragoza, 18G9), 93 ; My Note-book. All descriptions of country, 
 town, and site in this work are from my own notes, taken on the 
 spot, in connexion with local records and existing remands. 
 
 5. Geschichte der Juden von der dltesten Zeiten bis avf gegenirart 
 von H. Graetz (Leipsic, 1864), viii. 301, 334; History oftheJetcs 
 in Spain and Portugal, by E. H. Lindo (London, 1848), 249, 264 ; 
 Die Juden in Navarra, den BasJcenliindern iind avf den Bakaren
 
 374 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 von M. Kayserling (Berlin, 1861), 104-5; Geschichte der Juden in 
 Portugal von M. Kayserling (Berlin, 1867), 120. 
 
 6. Etudes Historiques, FoUtiqiies et Litteraires, sur les Jnifs 
 d'Espagne, par D. Jos6 Amador de Los Rios (Paris, 1861), 295-416 ; 
 History of Spanish Literature, by George Ticknor (London, 1863), 
 i. 241, 371, 372 ; Llorente, Inquisicion, c. vi. art. 2 ; Graetz, Ges- 
 chichte der Juden, viii. 234. 
 
 7. La Espana Sagrada, per el Padre Enrique Florez (Madrid, 
 1747), XXX. 426; El Templo del Pilar, por D. Gerardo M. de la 
 Cerda (Zaragoza, 1872), cap. 2 ; Troph. Zarag. 170-6 ; Altafaj, 
 Zaragoza, 33-56. 
 
 Chap. II. — 1. Znrita, Annies, lib. xx. c. 49. 
 
 2. Vida del G/o7'ioso P. y Patriarcha Santo Domingo de Guzina7i, 
 fundador de el Orden de Predicadoi'es, escrita por Fray Francisco 
 de Possadas, Madrid, 1721 ; De Guzman Stirpe S. Dominic, edita 
 a Fr. Ant. Bremond (Roma, 1740) ; II Perfetto Leggendario, ovvero 
 Vite de Santi (Roma, 1841), viii. 35-48 ; Uves of the Fathers, 
 Martyrs, and other principal Saints, by the Rev. Alban Butler 
 (Dublin, 1833), ii. 190-204. 
 
 3. Jlistoire des Ilommes illustres de VOrdre de St. Dominique, 
 par le Rev. Pere A. Tonron (Paris, 1743-9), i. 1, 127, 441, ii. 58, 
 iii. 543; Meniorie dei pin insigni Pittori, Scxdtori, e Architetti Dome- 
 vicani, del P. Vincenzo Marchesc (Genova, 1869), i. 59, 234, 
 ii. 12; Ilistoire du Christianisme, par I'Abb^ Fleury (Paris, 1837), 
 vi. 450; Jlistoire des R/puhliques Italiennes du Moyen Age, par 
 M. Simondo de Sismondi (Brnxelles, 1838), vi. 236-7. 
 
 4. Ilistoria de la insigne Ciudad de Segovia, par Diego de Col- 
 menares (Segovia, 1637), 437; Antonio, Pibl. Jlisp. Vet. ii. SiO-l ; 
 Los Rios, Etudes stir les Juifs, 143-56. There is a powerful like- 
 ness of Torqnemada in the Adoration picture by Zitoz. 
 
 5. Annies Ecclesiasticos y Secidares de la Ciudad de Sevilla, 
 por Diego Ortiz de Zuniga (Sevilla, 1747), iii. 389-98 ; Dicci- 
 onnrio Geogrnfico - Estadistico - Jfiston'co de Espana, por Pascual 
 Madoz (Madrid, 1846), iii. 165-71, xiv. 292-434. 
 
 6. My Nuto-book ; Ilistoria. de Sevilla, por Alonso Morgado 
 (Sevilla, 1587), lib. ii. c. 16 ; Madoz, Dice. Esp. iii. 165, xiv. 292. 
 
 7. Cosas Memorubles de Espana, por Lucio Marineo (Alcala, 
 1539), lib. xix. ; Llorente, Inquisicion, c. vi. art. 2; Los Rios,
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 375 
 
 Etudes sur les Juifs, 150. The political cliaracter of tlie Inquisi- 
 tion may be considered as established. Coinp. Gnizot, Cours 
 dllistoire Moderne^ v. lee. ii. ; Los Rios, Etudes Historiques sur les 
 Jtiifs, 127-5G ; Ticknor, HistorTj of Spanish Literature, i. 428, 429, 
 iii. 235 ; Dyer, History of Modern Europe, i. 188; and Lacordaire, 
 Memoire pour le lietahlissement de VOrdre des Freres Precheurs, c. vi. 
 On the otlier side, however, see Buckle, History of Civilization, ii. 
 18-20. 
 
 8. Historia de las Grandezas de la Ciudad de Avila, por Fray 
 Luis Ariz (Alcula, 1607) par. 1, p. 4G ; Antonio, Bill. Ilisp. Vet. 
 ii. 340 ; Llorente, luquisicion, c. viii. art. 6 ; Zurita, Anales, lib. 
 XX. C.G5; Touron, Ordre de St. Domiyiiqve, iii. 544-56 ; Graetz, 
 Geschichte der Juden, viii. 307-19. 
 
 Chap. IIL — 1. Tinvxidi, Anales de Aragon,\\h.yi\. c i^; Madoz, 
 Diccionario de Espana, ii. 392-415. 
 
 2. My Note-book ; Eugenio Tapia, Historia de la Civilizacion 
 EspaTiola, ii. 302 ; Altafaj, Zaragoza en el Bolsillo, 90 ; Cerdu, El 
 Temple del Filar, c. 3. 
 
 3. Zurita, Anales, lib. xx. c. 56-65. 
 
 4. Llorente, Inquisicion, c. v. art. 1, c. vi. art. 2 ; Touron, Ordre 
 de St. Dominique, iii. 558 ; Kayserling, Die Juden in Navarra, 105. 
 
 5. Fueros y ohservancias del Reyno de Aragon, i. 7. 10 ; Llorente, 
 Inqxdsicion, c. vi. art. 2. 
 
 6. Llorente, Inquisicion, c. vi. art. 2 ; Graetz, Geschichte der 
 Juden, viii. 334. 
 
 7. Elementi della Storia de'' Sommi Pontefici da San Pietro, 
 raccolti dal Canonico Giuseppe de Novaes (Roma, 1821), vi. 53 ; 
 Llorente, Inquisicion, c. v. art. 2. 
 
 Chap. IV. — 1. Historia general de Espana, por el Padre Juan 
 de Mariana (Madrid 1782), ii. 491 ; Zurita, Anales, lib. xx. c. 65. 
 
 2. Llorente, Inquisicion, c. vi. art. 2 ; Kayserling, Juden in 
 Navarra, 90-110. 
 
 3. Madoz, Diccionario de Espana, xvi. 556-646 ; Zurita, 
 Anales, lib. xx. c. 65 ; Touron, Ordre de St. Dominique, iii. 558. 
 
 4. My Note-book; Altafaj, Zaragoza, 41 ; Llorente, Inquisicion, 
 c. vi. art. 3 ; Zurita, Anales, lib. xx. c. 65. 
 
 5. Zurita, Anales, lib. xx. c. 65; lAovenic, Liquisicion, c. vi. 
 art. 3.
 
 376 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 6. Carvajal, Docunientos ineditos, xviii, 271-2 ; Commentarhis 
 brevis et jocundus Itineris atque peregrinationis pietatis et religionis 
 causa susceptce, ah illustri et magnijico domino, Domino Leone Uhero 
 Barone de Rozmital (Olmutz, 1577), 109. 
 
 7. Kayserling, Juden in Navarra, 72-90 ; Kayserliiig, Juden in 
 Portugal, 85-119 ; Graetz, GeschicJde dei- Juden, viii. 234, 326, 334. 
 
 Chap. V. — 1. Historia de CataJuTia y de la Coi-ona de Aragon, 
 por Victor Ballagiier (Barcelona, 18G0), 1. A'iii. c. 28 ; Report of 
 English Commissioners, jDriuted in Memorials of King Henry the 
 Seoenth, edited by James Gairdner (London, 1858), 277-8. Por- 
 traits of Fernando are not rai'e. One picture liangs at Windsor 
 Castle ; there is a fine bust of him at Granada ; a good likeness 
 of him taken at the time described in my text occurs in the Adora- 
 tion picture by Miguel Zitos. 
 
 2. Ticknor, Hist. Span. Lit. i. 335 ; Graetz, Geschichte der 
 Juden, viii. 233; Lindo, Hist. Jews in Sp. 242; Altafaj, Zaragoza, 
 33-44, 108-10. 
 
 3. FAogio de la Eeina Catolica, Dona Isabel, por D. Diego 
 Clemencin (torn. ri. ' Memorias de la Ecal Academia de la 
 Historia'), 91-105 ; Fernando and Isabel to Guevara and Puebla, 
 Jan. 1490 ; A Hand-book for Travellers in Spain, by Richard Ford 
 (London, 1855), 922. 
 
 4. Marineo, Cosas J\Icnwables de Espana, lib. xvii. ; Ziirita, 
 Armies, lib. xvi. c. 54, lib. xvii. c. 11, 24; Ballnguer, Hist. Catal. 
 lib. viii. c. 28. 
 
 5. Vidas de Espanoles Celebres, por Manuel Josef Qnintana, 
 (Paris, 1849), 71-101 ; Ballaguer, Hist. Catal. lib. viii. c. 18-25; 
 Marineo, Cosas Mem. de E.ymna, lib. xviii. 
 
 n. Compendia de las cinco iomas de las Anales de Navarra, por el 
 i'adro Pablo M. de Elizondo (Pamplona, 1732), lib. iv. c. 1. 
 
 7. Cronicn del liey I). Enri(jue el Quarto, })or Diego Enriqnez 
 de Castillo (Madrid, 17-^7), 158; Clemencin, Elogio, vi. 5G-9, 
 Ziirita, Anales, lili. xvii. c. 25, Hi), xviii. IG, 21, 26. 
 
 Chat. VI. — 1. Opus Epistnlurvm I'ctri Martyris (Amstcl. 1570) ; 
 Antonio, Bd>. Hisp. Vet. ii. 318 ; Marineo, Cosas Mem. de Espana, 
 nil. xix. There is nii did ))orlrait of Isabel at, Windsor, and a bust 
 of her at (iranada. Tin' safest likeness of lier is in the Adoration 
 j)icture by Zitoz.
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 377 
 
 2. Ticknor, Hist. Span. Lit. i. 172; Zurita, Anales, lib. xx. 
 c. 49; Mariana, Historia de Espana, ii. 517. 
 
 3. Zurita, Anales, lib. xx. c. 49 ; Graetz, Geschichte der Jtiden, 
 viii. 240 ; Ticknor, Hist. S^y. Lit. i. 420 ; Colmenaros, Historia de 
 Segovia, 379. 
 
 4. II Perfetto Legr/endario, ovvero Vite de Santi, v. 247-252, 
 vii. 35-44 ; Altafaj, Zaragoza, 108-9 ; Colmenares, Hist. Seg. 431 ; 
 Madoz, Die. Esp. iii. 167, xiv. 823; Morgado, Hist, de Sev. lib. iii. 
 c. 1 ; Historia de la Ciudad de Toledo, por A. M. Camera (Toledo, 
 1862), 791. 
 
 5. Informacion de lo que pero Sarmiento corrogidor de Medina 
 dixo lo qual no sevio con la turbacion del tiempo que entonces corria 
 Ano de 1507. Arch. Gen. de Simancas, Est. leg. 1, 2°, 192. 
 
 6. Graetz, Geschichte der Juden, viii. 233-5 ; Llorente, Inquisi- 
 cion, c. vi. art. 2. 
 
 7. Quadro Elementar das Relacoes Politicas de Poi^tugal, pelo 
 Visconde de Santarem, i. 371 ; Clemencin, Elogio, vi. 491-4. 
 
 Chap. VII. — 1. My Note-book; Carvajal, Documentos ineditos, 
 xviii. 248-9. 
 
 2. Shassek, Commentariris hrevis, 74 ; Castillo, Cronica del Rey 
 Don Enrique el Quarto, 4-7. 
 
 3. Colmenares, Historia de Segovia, 333 ; M'Crie, History of 
 the Reformation in Spain, 44, 61 ; Flores de Miraflores (Burgos, 
 1657); Ticknor, Hist. Span. Lit. i. 374, 403; Kayscrling, Die 
 Juden in Navarra, 121 ; Graetz, Geschichte der Juden, viii. 233, 
 237. 
 
 4. Los Rios, Etudes snr les Jitifs, 117-126 ; Bibliotheca Hispana 
 Nova, auctore Nicolao Antonio (Matriti, 1783), i. 132; Bibliotheca 
 Hispana Vetus, ii. 348. 
 
 5. Graetz, Geschichte der Juden, viii. 239, 327 ; Ticknor, Hist. 
 Span. Lit. Ap. A. iii. 390-402 ; Colmenares, Hist, de Segovia, 363. 
 
 6. Castillo, Cronica del Rey Enrique, 15, 60, ^(S ; Fernando 
 and Isabel to Puebla, Bergenrotb's Cal. Span. Pap. i. art. 22 ; 
 Gairdner, Mejn. Hen. Sev. 274; Clemencin, Elogio, vi. 76 ; Anderson, 
 Royal Genealogies, 718. 
 
 7. Castillo, Cronica del Rey Enrique, 62, 229 ; Zurita, Anales, 
 lib. xvi. c. 14, lib. xviii. c. 31, lib. xx. c. 49; Anderson, lioyal 
 Genealogies, 718.
 
 378 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 8. My Xote-book; Historia de las Grandezas de Avila, por Luis 
 Ariz (Alcala, 1607); Ford, Handbook for Travellers, 743. 
 
 Chap. VIII. — 1. Historia de los Reyes Catolicos Don Fernando 
 ij Dona Isabel, por Andres Bernaldez, c. vii ; Padre Pablo, Anales 
 de Navarra, lib. iv. c. 1, s. 3 ; Santarem, Quadro Elementar, i. 369. 
 
 2. Zurita, Anales, lib. xviii. c. 21, 26. 
 
 3. Castillo, Cronica del Rerj Enrique, 234 ; Bemaldes, Reyes 
 Catolicos, c. vii; Gamero, Historia de Toledo, 779-91 ; Clemencin, 
 Elogio, vi. 91-115 ; Anderson, Royal Genealogies, 718. 
 
 4. Colmenares, Historia de Segovia, 399-416 ; Zurita, Anales, 
 lib. xix. c. 13, 18. 
 
 5. Santarem, Quadro Elementar, i. 369, 380 ; Zurita, Anales, 
 lib. xix. c. 23, 30, 
 
 6. Tratado de paz entre el Roi e Rainha de Castilla e el Rei de 
 Portugal, Sep. 4, 1478; Clemencin, Elogio, vi. 491 ; Chroniqne des 
 Fails et gestes admirables de Maximilian I., translat^e par Octave 
 Delepierre (Briixelles, 1839), 1, 2. 
 
 7. Santarem, Quadro Elementar, i. 381-83. 
 
 8. Memoir of tbe Privy Council of Castille, printed in Bergen- 
 roth's Cal. Span. Pap. ii. 396-7 ; Clemencin, Elogio, vi. 91-3. 
 
 Chap. IX. — 1, Historia de los Reyes Catholicos Don Fernando y 
 Dona Isabel, por Andres Bernaldez (Madrid, 1850), cap. 78; 
 Carvajal, Documentos ineditos, xviii. 272. 
 
 2. Chronica de los mny altos y esclarecidos Reyes Catholicos Don 
 Fernando y Dona Isabel por Fernando del Pulgar (1567), parte iii. 
 c. 53 ; Opus Epist. Pet. Mart. Ep. xxiv. 
 
 3. V\\\q&t, Reyes Catholicos^ lib. iii. c. 53; Yanguas y !Miranda, 
 Diccionario, lib. i. c. 2 ; Los Rios, Etudes sur les Juifs, 151. 
 
 4. Historia de la Ciudad de Compluto, vulgarmetite Alcala de 
 Sanfjuste y aora de Henares, por el Doctor ]Miguel de Portilla y 
 Esquivel, primera parte, c. viii, xiii. 
 
 5. My Note-book; Portilla y Esquivel, Hist. Comp. c. xv, xix, 
 xxiii, xxxvi ; Madoz, Diccionario de Espahn, i. 364-376. 
 
 6. My Note-book; Portilla y Esquivel, Hist. Comp. par. i. 
 
 Chap. X. — 1. Marineo, Cosas Jlfemorablis, 114; Kayscrling, 
 Juden in Nuvarra, 104-5; Lanuza, Historias Ecclesiasticas y Secu- 
 lares de Aragon, i. 553.
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 379 
 
 2. Doge and Senate to Hieronimo Zorzi, Sept. 15, 1485 ; 
 Fernando to his agent in France, Add. Mss. 28,572. f. 1. ; Excerfjts 
 from Saniito, ii. 262. 
 
 3. Fernando and Isabel to the Serene and Mighty Prince, 
 Nov. 5, 1485. Fernando's first letter to the King of England 
 runs : — 
 
 ' Serenissimo et potentissimo Principi Dei gratia Anglie &c. 
 Regi consanguineo et amico nostro carissimo Ferdinandus dei 
 gratia Rex Castelle, Aragonum, Segionis, Sicilie &c. salutes et pros- 
 peros ad vota successus cerciores facti sumus a Colunibo vice 
 admiralo niarium Regni Francie et prefecto chassis cristianissinii 
 Regis Francorum nuper in niari oceano juxta Lusitaniam inter- 
 ceptas fuisse qnatuor venetorum triremes intraqne eas multa sub- 
 ditorum nostrorum merces et bona. Quo facinore contra omnia 
 que inter suum Regem et nos amicitie consanguinitatis et foederis 
 jura sunt perpetrato aiunt eum ad dividendam predam in aliquem 
 ])ortum vel stationem regni serenitatis vestre divertisse. Rogamus 
 igitur eamdem pro bona et equa justitie culta ipsum Columbum 
 Tibicumque eum intra ditionem suam esse deprehenderit detineri 
 jubeat rogatque ut bona ipsa et merces omnes intcgre restituat 
 dilecto et fideli nostro haruni exhibitori que hac tantum de causa 
 sua et aliorum mercatorum noinine in istam provinciam proficis- 
 citnr. Quod profecto iiltraque est justum accipiemus precipui 
 officii loco a serenitate vestra ; cui nos ad ea que ipsi mutua grata 
 erunt et ad meritorum vicissitudinem paratissimos ofiferimus. Et 
 Deus vos tueatur serenissime et potentissime Rex consanguinee et 
 amice noster carissime. Datum Complute v Novembris anno salutis 
 millesimc quadringentesimo Ixxx quinto. 
 
 ' Yo el Rey, 
 
 ' L. GoNfALEs, Secret'.'' 
 
 4. Llorente, Inquisicion, c. vi. art. 4 ; Yanguas y Miranda, 
 Dice. Hist. lib. i. c. 2 ; Kayserling, Die Juden in Navarra, 104. 
 
 5. Altafaj, Zaragoza, 41 ; Llorente, Inquisicion., c. vii. art. 3 ; 
 Madoz, Die. de E.'sp. xvi. 570; Zurita, Anales, lib. xx. c 64, 65. 
 I found in the Primate's palace at Alcala a collection of papers, 
 which belong to the province of Toledo, and have never been 
 examined by historical writers. ]\Iany of them are processes 
 against suspected Jews. There is a collection of pi'ocesses against
 
 380 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 priests for abuse of the confessional ; and another collection, also 
 considerable, of processes against nuns for breach of vows. 
 
 6. Pulgar, Reyes CatJioh'cos, lib. iii. c. 53 ; Zurita, Anales, xx. 
 64 ; Portilhi y Esquivel, Historia de Compluto, primera parte, 
 xxxvi. 3G ; Mariana, Hist. Esp. ii. 490. 
 
 SECOND BOOK. 
 
 Chap. I. — 1. Mendoza, Cronica clel Gran Cardenal, 23. 
 
 2. Carvajal, Documentos ineditos, xviii. 272 ; Clemencin, Elogio, 
 vi. ib, 13 ; Madoz, Diccionario de EsjmJia, vi, 175, 183. 
 
 3. Mendoza, Cron. del Gran Card. 153, ISO. 
 
 4. Portilla y Esquivel, Hist. Conip. segunde part. xix. 
 
 5. Pulgar, Reyes CatJwlicos, lib. iii. c. 53 ; Portilla y Esquivel, 
 Hist. Comp. pri. part, xxxvi. 
 
 6. Aleson, Anales de Navarra, v. 11 ; Mendoza, Cron. del Gran 
 Card. 181. 
 
 7. Portilla y Esquivel, Hist. Comp. pri. part, cxxxvi. 
 
 Chap. II. — 1. Florez, Espana Sagrada, xxx. ; Altafaj, Zara- 
 goza, 109; C&rv&j&\, Documentos ineditos, xviii. 272; To nron, ///*-- 
 toire des Hommes illttsfres de VOrdre de St. Dominique, iii. 558-9. 
 
 2. Gayangos, History of the Mohammedan Dynasties of Spain, i. 
 18, 20, 43 ; Madoz, Diccionario de Espaiia, viii. 467-5G4. 
 
 3. Gayangos, ^foh. Dyn. of Spain, ii. 3G9, 374. 
 
 4. Conde, Dominacion de Ins Arabes, iii. 217 ; Gayangos, 
 Moh. Dyn. of Spain, ii. 3G9, 37G ; Mariana, Historia de Espana, ii. 
 493 ; INilgar, Reyes Catholicos, iii. c. 48. 
 
 5. Gayangos, Moh. Dyn. of Spain, ii. 378. 
 
 G. Carvajal, Documentos ineditos, xviii. 272 ; Anales de el Reyno 
 de Galicia (Santiago, 174G), vol. i. ; Historia del Aposlol de Jcsns 
 Christo (Santiago), jior M. C. Ferrer (Madrid, IGIO) ; EspaTia Sa- 
 grada, Segunda Ediciun, ])or el R. P. M. Fray Henrique Florez, 
 iii. 39-131. 
 
 Chai". III. — 1. Gayangos, Moh. Dyn. of Spain, i. 48. 
 
 2. Carvajal, Documentos ineditos, xviii. 273 ; Gayangos, Moh. 
 Dyn. of Spain, ii. 38. 
 
 3. Histoire de VEmpire Ottoman, depvis son origine jusquW vos 
 joins, por .1. De Ilaninior (Paris, 183G), iv. 20, 21.
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 381 
 
 4. De Hammer, Hist. Emp. Ott. iv. 21 ; Los Rios, Etudes sitr 
 les Jitifs, IGG. 
 
 5. Gayangos, Moh. Dyn. of Spain, ii. 380. 
 
 6. Gayangos, Moh. Dyn. of Sp. ii. 381 ; Opus Ejn'st. Pet. MaH. 
 Ep. 62. 
 
 7. Bernaldez, Reyes Ccdolicos, c. Ixxxvii; Gayangos, Iloh, Dyn. 
 of Spain, ii. 381. 
 
 Chap. IV. — 1. Carvajal, Documentos ineditos, xviii. 274. 
 
 2. Yanguas y Miranda, Dice, de Hist. lib. i. c. 4; Zurita, 
 Anales, lib. 2pc. c. 72; Llorente, Inquisicion, c. vi. art. 7; Kayser- 
 ling, Die Jitden in Navarra, 104. 
 
 3. Ballaguer, Historia de Cataluna, lib. viii. c. 28, 29 ; Zurita, 
 Anales, lib. xx. c. 72 ; Morgado, Historia de Sevilla, lib. ii. c. 16. 
 
 4. Historia del derecho Espanol, por Juan Sempere (Madrid, 
 1847), lib. iv. c. 1-3; Zurita, Anales, lib. iii. c. 62; Manual Histo- 
 rico y Descriptivo de Valladolid (Val. 1861), 40; Mariana, Historia 
 de Espana, xi. 499-501. 
 
 5. Zurita, Anales, lib. xx. c. 21, 72; Pnlgar, Reyes Catolicos, 
 partie iii. c. 95; Manual de Valladolid, 40 ; Coronaciones de los Sere- 
 nissimos Reyes de Aragon, escritas por Geronimo de Blancas (Zara- 
 goza, 1641), lib. iii. c. 18. 
 
 Chai". V. — 1. Precis Historique sur la Reine Catholique Dona 
 Isabel, par Don Diego Clemencin, note 58 ; Mariana, Hist. Esp. ii. 
 392, 466; Privy Purse Expenses of Elizabeth of Yorl; edited by 
 Harris Nicolas, pref. xxii. 
 
 2. Padre Pablo, Anales de Navarra, lib. iv. c. 3. 
 
 3. Histoire des Frangais, par Simonde de Sismondi (Paris, 
 1821-44), xiv. 391, 613; Die Judeji in Navarra, 105; Yanguas y 
 Miranda, Dice. Nav. i. c. 11, 117. 
 
 4. Clemencin, Precis Historique, note 58 ; Histoire des Repub- 
 liques Italiennes du Moyen Age, par Simonde de Sismondi (Bruxelles, 
 1839), vi. 162. 
 
 5. Santarem, Qimdro Elementar, i. 388. 
 
 Chap. VI. — 1. Mnsee des Archives Nationales, Documents rig inaux 
 de VHistoire de France, exposes dans VHotel Soubise, public par la 
 Direction Generaledes Archives Nationales (Paris, 1872), 292, 294.
 
 382 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 2. La Couronne Margaritique (Lyon, 1549) ; Fernando and Isabel 
 to Fray Bernard Boyl, Dec. 6, 1486. The sovereigns write : — 
 
 ' Potestes Ferdinandi et Elizabeth, regis et regine Castelle, 
 Legionis, Aragonum, etc., pro Bernardo Boyl, priore anacoritorum 
 coenobii Beate Marie de Monteserrato, et Johanne de Merimon, 
 milite, tractandi et concludendi de et super foederibus et conven- 
 tionibus nuper initis cum Carolo rege Francie, nee non de et super 
 matrimonio Infantis Elizabeth primogenite filie, jam pubis, dictorum 
 regis et regine Hispaniarum cum ipso Carolo Francorum rege, ac 
 demum de et super quibuscunque causis controversiis et questionibus 
 que pendunt, sunt vel esse possunt inter regera et r.eginam Hispani- 
 arum et ipsorum regna, ex una parte, et Carolum regem Francie 
 ejusque regna, ex altera parte, pretextu oppignorationis Commi- 
 tatuum Rossellionis et Ceritanie. 
 
 * Actum in civitate Salamantina die sexto Decembris, anno 
 MccccLxxxvi. 
 
 * Yo EL Rey. Yo la Reyna.' 
 
 3. Isabel to Boyl, July 29, 1487 ; Fernando and Isabel to Boyl, 
 July 29, 1487. These letters (Archivo General de la Corona de 
 Aragon Reg. vol. 3686, fol. xciii. and xciii.) run: — 
 
 29 Julio, 1487. 
 
 La Reyna, — (Lo que vos padre Fray Boyl haves de dezir de 
 mi parte al Rey de Fraucia y a Madama de Be\'jv (Beaujeu) stando 
 juntos, y enderezando las nucvas al uno o al otro o a ambos segund 
 que vierdes que cuniplc juxta la materia y osto ante las personas 
 debraxo nombradas, o de aqnellos dellos que alii stuvieren es lo 
 siguiente.) 
 
 Que yo tuve siempre tan buena voluntat a essa paz que attondie 
 do lo que en los tiempos passados en ello fize, quise agora procurar 
 este negocio corao ella ha visto, pareciendome que para poner cl 
 sello en todo, solo esto me quedava por fazer, en lo qual es ciorto 
 que cl Rey mi Senor e yo nos huvimos tambion y tan amigable- 
 niente con el Rey de Francia su lierniano ijue toviondo ticnipo de 
 podcr mucho crecer su neccssidad si nos quisioramos juntar con sua 
 cnemigos que lo (picriau y dcssoavau y aun lo procuravan bien 
 afTincadamcnte con liartos offrcciinentos dignos de ser no solanicnto 
 scuchados, mas ami accoptados, no solo iion lo qiiisimos fazer en 
 publico nin en sccreto, ni fiizt-r a ello demonstracion alguna, mas
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 388 
 
 ni aim les quisimos responder, mas antes en senj'al de limpia amis- 
 tad enpe^amos a le fazer buenas obras como en la verdad lo ha 
 seydo y por obra ha parecido, que si el contrario fizieramos ni el 
 hoviera tan presto feclio lo que ha fecho en sus negocios, ni el Rey 
 de los Romanos stuviera tan quedo conio lo ha stado sperando lo 
 que nosotros fariamos, y en conclusion sus fechos no stuvieran en 
 el stado que stan, y dezilleys que bien se penzo, y aun algunos lo 
 creyeron que ellos mostravan querer entender en esto. El fin agaora 
 parece, y en la verdad el Rey mi Senor e yo algo dello pensamos, 
 mas en que con tan sana voluntad ^ntendiamos havernos con el y 
 con su honra y stado creemos que de la misma manera nos havia 
 de corresponder como era razon y por esso nos parecio era mejor 
 entender en ello con buen amor y con limpios respectos no faziendo 
 cosa engannosa nin mal fecba, antes todo afin de le ayudar y valer 
 y de tener su honra y fechos por propios nuestros, y aiin por esso 
 mismo salimas luego al casamiento y dimos tanta prissa a ellos 
 porque si el otra cosa fiziesse lo que no se devia creer, havriamos 
 enteramente complido con lo que deviamos a Dios a buena y leal 
 amistad principalraente, antel qual y antel mundo seriamos descar- 
 gados, y que pues a ellos parece que por agora non se entienda en 
 la platica deste negocio, esso mismo parece a nosotros. Pero 
 dezisles eis que les rogamos e yo la Reyna les Ruego que en lo de 
 Rosselon den forma se complio lo que el Rey su padre dex6 man- 
 dado tornando nos aquellos nuestros Condados, e si nosotros en 
 alguna cosa fueremos obligados, siendo por justicia deserminado lo 
 compliremos enteramente e faziendolo assi fara como quien es, des- 
 cargaru los animos de su padre guardara la buena paz y alianzas 
 antiguas de nuestra casa, y de la suya y quitarse ban los iuconve- 
 nientes males y danyos que del contrario seguir se podrian. E no 
 queremos que esta fabla sea delante otras personas algunas, salvo 
 de Mossen de Benjn del almirante, del arzobispo de lordens, de 
 Mossen de Sagre, et de Joan Frances, o de aquellos dellos que alii 
 se fallaren. Fecha en el Real de Malaga a xxviiii de Julio del 
 
 AGo Mil ccccLXXxvii. 
 
 Yo la Reyua, 
 
 29 Julio, 1487. 
 El Rey y la Reyna, — Devoto padre fray Boyl vimos vuestra 
 carta y entendimos lo que Mossen Marimon nos dixo sobre lo que 
 alia se ha platicado, y todo bien cousiderado nos parece que esse
 
 384 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 negocio va en dilaciones, y pues al tiempo que esta recibierdes sera 
 ya passado el termino que con vos tomaron de las seys semanas, 
 si fasta entonces no se lioviere tornado assiento en lo que llevastes 
 deves os luego venir sin atteuder mas porque no es cosa razonable 
 que steys mas alia procurando de vuestra parte cosa que a ellos 
 stuvier mas lionesto de procurar. 
 
 E si por agora les parece que no hay opportunidad para entender 
 en ello, bien es que por el presente se dexe. Porende venid vos 
 luego y no mireys de sperar otra letra ni mandamiento mestro. 
 Del Real de Malaga a xxviiii dias de Julio del ano mil cccclxxxvii. 
 
 Yo el Rey, Yo la Reyna. 
 
 4. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, July 15, 1488. 
 
 5. Das Kloster, WeltUch und Geistlich, von J. Scheible (Stutt- 
 gart, 1846), b. iv. 4-52 ; Chronique de Maximilian I. par Octave 
 Delepierre (Bruxelles, 1839), 369, 383; Der lefzte Ritter von 
 Anastasius Griin (Leipsig, 1845) ; (Euvres completes de Bernard de 
 Fontenelle (Paris, 1818), i. d. 4 ; Documents Originaux de VHi&toire 
 de France, 270-93. 
 
 6. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, July 15, 1488; Bergonrotli, 
 Cal. Span. Fap. 1, 22; Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, Dec. 17, 
 1488; Histotna Regis Henrici Septiini, a Bernardo Andrea Tliolosate 
 conscripta, edited by James Gairdner (London, 1858), 25. 
 
 7. Sasiola, Aug. 8, 1483, Harl. MSS.; Marie de Bourgogne, par 
 Oct. Delepierre (Bruxelles, 1851), 3, 
 
 Chap. VII. — 1. Commission to Rodrigo de Puebla, April 30, 
 1488 ; Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, July 21, 1488. 
 
 2. The Spanish merchants residing in London to Sancho de 
 Londono and the Sub-Prior of Santa Cruz, July 18, 1498. 
 
 3. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, July 15, 1488. 
 
 4. Henry to Diego de Castro, Sept. 25, 1485 ; Jan. 31, 1488 ; 
 Henry to Scover, July 25, 1-188; Fubyan, Chronicle, 683; Statutes 
 of the Ilealm, ii. 4 ; The ' Libel of English Policy,' in Wright's 
 Political S(vgs, ii. 160. 
 
 n. Anderson, Rot/. Gen. 709, 744. 
 
 6. Ticknor, I/ist. Sp. Lit. i. 362 ; Passport to Hubert and 
 Staunton, Mar. 8, 1487 ; Opus Epist. Pet. Mart. lib. i. Ep. 62 ; 
 Marian.'i, HitiUn-ia de Fspana, ii. 1 01. 
 
 7. Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, April 30, 1488.
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 385 
 
 TIIIED BOOK. 
 
 Chap. I. — 1. Letters and Papers illustrative of the Wars of 
 the English in France during the Reign of Henry the Sixth, edited 
 by the Rev. Joseph Stevenson, 18G1 (London); Puebla to Fernando 
 and Isabel, June IG, 1500. 
 
 2. Commentarius brevis et jocundus, 48-52 ; Dngdale, Baronage 
 of England, ii. 241; Statutes of the Realm, ii. 449 ; Paston Letters, 
 V. eccxvii. ; Registrum Ahhatio' Johannis Whethamstede, Ahbatis 
 Monasterii Sancti Albani, edited by H. T. Riley (London, 1872), 
 i. 187, 191, 359, 3G5, 425 ; The Difference betiveen an Absolute and 
 Limited Monarchy, by Sir John Fortescue (London, 1714), 85. 
 
 3. Andrg, Vita Hen. Sept. 32, 33 ; The Battle of Bosworth Field, 
 by William Hutton, edited by J. G. Nicholls (London, 1813), 
 181-271. 
 
 4. A Perfect Copy of all Summons of the Nobility to the Great 
 Councils and Parliaments of this Realm, bj Sir William Dngdale 
 (London, 1G85), 476-7; Pari. Hist. ii. 3G9, 414, 41G, 417 ; The 
 Historic Peerage of England, by Sir Harris Nicolas, ed. Conrthope 
 (London, 1857), 53, 459, 4G0. 
 
 5. The Wright's Chaste Wife, by Adam of Cobsam, Early 
 English Text Society, 18G5 ; Religious Pieces in Prose and Verse, 
 by Richard Rolle, of Hampole, E. E. T. S. 18G7 ; Historia Monas- 
 terii S. Angustini Cantuariensis, by Thomas of Elmham (London, 
 1583), Int. xvi.-xxiv. ; The Chronicle of England, by John Capgrave 
 (London, 1858), Int. ix,-xiii.; Thomce Walsingham Historia Angli- 
 cana (London, 18G3), ii. Int. x.-xxi. 
 
 6. Wright, Political Poems and Songs relating to English His- 
 tory, i\. 258, 282; Fabyan, Chronicle, 1593; Some Account of the 
 Citizens of Ijondon and their Rulers, from 1060 to 1867, by R. R. 
 Orridge (London, 1867), 225. 
 
 7. English Matliematical and Astronomical Writers from 108G 
 to 1600, by A. De Morgan, in * Companion to tlie British Almanac ' 
 (London, 1837), 22-6 ; A Catalogue of the Royal and Noble Authors 
 of England, Scotland and L-eland, by Horatio Walpole, Earl of 
 Oxford (London, 1806), i. 200-224. 
 
 Chap. II. — 1. Official Correspondence of Thomas Bekynton, 
 Secretary of Henry the Sixth, edited by George Williams (Londuii, 
 VOL. I. CO
 
 38 G NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 1872), i. 155-8, 222; ii. 270-311, 34G-354 ; Wilkins, Covcilia 
 Magnce Britamiice, iii, 471 ; Reg. Alb. Mon. S. Alb. i. 384. Puebla 
 to Fernando and Isabel, .Tune 13, 1496. 
 
 2. Regist. Alb. Mon. S. Albani, i. 169-172. 
 
 3. Shassek, Comment, brev. et jocund. A8-b2 ; History and Anti- 
 quities of the Cathedral Church of Canterbury, by the Rev. J. Dart 
 (London, 1726), 11, 12, 18. Dugdale, Monasticon Anglicanum, ed. 
 Carey (London, 1830), i. 87. 
 
 4. Henry's Instructions to his Ambassador in Rome, Feb. 18, 
 1504; Halliwell, ZeWers of the Kings of England, \. 164; History 
 of the Mitred Parliamentary Abbeys and Conventual Churches, by 
 Brown Willis (London, 1718), i. 8, 25, 79, 106, ii. 58. 
 
 5. Rutland Papers (edited by William Jerdan), 9 ; Williams, 
 Lives of English Cardinals, \\. 167; Gairdner, Letters and Papers 
 of Richard the Third and Henry the Seventh, i. 95; Puebla to 
 Fernando and Isabel, June 15, 1496. Rome considered England 
 a fief of the Church, and Henry a vassal of the Pope. See note to 
 Berg. Cal Sp. Pap. i. 100. 
 
 6. Henry to Innocent, July 21, 1490. Henry writes: — 
 
 ' Beatissime pater post humillimani comuieudacionem et devo- 
 tissima pedum oscula beatissimorum et cetera. Cum illustrissima 
 ac clarissima mater nostra Domina Margareta Richeniondiae ac 
 Derbey Coraitessa, fragilem atque incertum humanae vitae cursum 
 ac statum meditans : certum qnoddam sit sibi electrra sepulchrura, 
 quo posteaquam furrit vita functa recondiatur : cupiatque ut occlesia 
 ipsa qua sibi Roi>ukhrum hnjusuiodi elogerit, apostolicis quibusdam 
 ct favoraliilibus dccoratur indultis, quae non ad suam tantura sed 
 ad totius Christiani generis sabitem ccdant ! Instantissime no- 
 biscnm egit, ut pones vestram sanctitatem intercedere diligenter 
 velh'mus, quo taiu anime ipsius niatris nostrae quam animabus 
 defuiictorum pro (piibus niissai furrint in dicta capella, qua sibi 
 Bcpulchrum elegerit, celcbratae cas in;lulgontias ct illam jioccatorum 
 remissioncm concedore dignalur, quauf consocuntur animate dofuiic- 
 torum ; pro quihus in capclhi lu-atae niariae de scala coeli nuncu- 
 pata, in occlesia sive extra ocolosiani nionasterii sancti Anastasi 
 cistercicnsi.s ordinis extra iiuiros urbis missai cclebrantur. Quare 
 cum profatae illustrissimac Doniinac matris nostrae pius sit zelus 
 ct Catliolicus animus tani in sui ipsius, (|iiaMi in dofuiictorum 
 on.nium animariini salutom : candcm vestram sanctitatem ex animo
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 387 
 
 rogaraus votis suis ac desyderio et sancto proposito vol it nostro 
 intuitu et precipua nostra intercessione favorabiliter ac gratiose 
 annuere. Sicuti Latins ex oratore istic nostro venerabili pre 
 domino David Willelmo, cui lioc onus imposnimus eadcm vestra 
 sanctitas intelligcrat. Faciet autera rem imprimis non mediocritcr 
 nobis grata vestra sanctitas. Deinde saluti aniniarum plurimum 
 consulet. Supest ut vestra sanctitas felicissime valeat ad vota. 
 
 * Ex regia nostra grenuici die xxi Julii 1490. 
 
 ' E. V. S"^- 
 
 * Devotissimus atque obseqnentissimus filius Dei gra. Rex 
 Angliae et Franc • ac dn's Hyb'niae. 
 
 ' Henricus Iv.' 
 'Sanctissimo Clemen tissimoque domino nostro Papae.' 
 
 Chap. III. — 1. Gairdner, Memorials of Henry the Seventh (Lon- 
 don, 1858), Pref. xxiii. xxiv; The Baronage of England, by 
 William Dugdale (London, 1075), 11, 233; Ayala to Fernando 
 and Isabel, July, 25, 1498. 
 
 2. Giovanni di Giglis to Innocent, xVug. 17, 1487; Halliwcll, 
 Letters of the Kings of England, 1. 162. 
 
 3. Andre, Vita Hen. Sept. 10; News from London, April 1, 
 1499, cited by Brown from Sanudo's Diaries, 11, 304. 
 
 4. Julius the Second to Henry the Seventh, July 9, 1507 ; 
 Henry the Seventh to Julius the Second, Sep. 8, 1507 ; Instruction 
 of Louis the Twelfth in Letters and Papers of Richard the 
 Third and Henry the Seventh, ii. 138 ; Giovanni di Giglis .to Inno- 
 cent, Jan. 28, 1489. Giglis writes: — 
 
 ' Beatissime pater post humillimam commendationem et pedum 
 r-rnla beatissimorum. Scripsi non multis ante diebns ad Sancti- 
 tatem vestram de adventu Domini persei Malvitij Sanctitatis vestre 
 Cubicularij cum ense sacro et galero quern S. V. ad hunc inclitum 
 regem per ilium transmisit : et de honorifica ejusdcm Domini persoi 
 receptione de qua ille latins ad Sanctitatem V". scripsit. Non potu- 
 isset certe honorificentior esse quam fuerit : cum nihil in ea prae- 
 tcrmissum sit quod ad Sanctitatis V. decus atque honorem et ad 
 muneris veneratioiiem pertinere jaossit : posteaquam numus prae- 
 sentatum fuit Regie Majestati post aliquot dies medio Domini 
 Archiepiscopi Cantuariensi gratissimam audientiam a Majestate 
 Regia consecuti sumus in qua juxta Sanctitatis V. instructiones
 
 388 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 quas dominus perseus attulit ab ipso Domino perseo sunt Mandafa 
 Sanctitatis V. Regi exposita astante domino Archiepiscopo prefato 
 et domino Episcopo exoniense qui apud ilium sunt summi et utroque 
 etiam favente sed precipue Dominus Cantuariensis, qui in omnibus 
 rebus Sanctitatis V. se praebet diligentissimum cum singulari (ut 
 videtur) affectione, pi-opter negotia regni que multa occurnmt et 
 ardua non habuimus ad tunc responsum certum, gratuni tamen et 
 quale nos in optumam spem aduxit, ut Sanctitatis V. tempore con- 
 gruo satisfacere possimus : que omnia latins a me aliis Uteris sunt 
 scripta. Postmodum vero hiis festivitatibus natalis Domini, Dominus 
 perseus et ego ad Regem accessimus illius visitandi gratia ubi rex 
 ipse de Sanctitate V. ac devotione in eandem ac Beatissimam sedem 
 illam multa affectuosissime et christianissimc narrarit. Inter cetera 
 asserens se tantum Sanctitati V. obnoxium quantum christianus 
 princeps esse possit, seque cupere aliquando aliquid efficere posse in 
 quo suam in eundem optimum animum ostendere queat Sibi in animo 
 nihil esse majus quam ut paratis Cbristianis rebus se unum preberc 
 qui aliquid egregium contra infideles gerat ad dei laudem et eterni 
 Christi et fidei exaltationem. Hoc et hujusmodi multis verbis et 
 affectuosissimis est prosequutus. Interloquendum etiam subjunxit 
 se in Regem francorum ac statum suum nihil moliri ncquo ei quid- 
 quam noceri cupere. Sed coactum esse ad presens res britannicas 
 defendere, cum propter ingentia beneficia ab defuncto Duce in cala- 
 niitatibus suis suscepta que notissima sunt turn pro tuitione regni 
 sui. Ita enira res britannice cum hiis anglicis connecte sunt ut ex 
 casu britonum necesse sit hos periclitari. Misit oratores ad Regem 
 francorum pro pace que si sortiatur offcctum bene erit sin minus 
 statuit britanniam et duxissam illam pupillam pro viribiisdefondore. 
 Missi sunt etiam oratores a\l Rogcm Castollo pro confederatione hie 
 tractata et pcne conchisa confinnanda in qua inter cetera actum est 
 de matrimouio contrahondo inter hiijus mcliti regis filium unicum 
 et unam ex filiabus prcfati regis CastoUe. Missi sunt etiam ora- 
 tores ad Regem Romanorum et flaiulrcnscs pro rebus illis compo- 
 nendis si fieri possit. Sin minus saltern aniicitia cum utrisque fiat 
 aut cum altero illorum (|ui ('(piioriltus conditionibiis ac(piicsceret : 
 quo mercatura inter hos et illos din iuterdicta in solito cursu resti- 
 tuatur. Die xiii hujus nicnsis institutum pnrliamentum initium 
 cnpict. Cnjus precipna cura erit de rebus bellicis providere ct pre- 
 cipue de pccunia in eo gerendo necessaria que res non erit parve
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 389 
 
 ilifTicnltatis. Nam iion solum laycis honera magna in liiis pre- 
 staiulis incumbent scd etiam clcricis quibus trcs decimas imponendas 
 agunt. Hiis peractis agetur de negotio Sanctitatis V. Ilex (ut 
 dixi) si verbis illius animus judicari possit, nobis bonam spem tri- 
 buit Dominus Archiepiscopus Cantuariensis nobis non decrit. Nos 
 ctiam si qua industria in nos est earn adhibebimus et in solicitando 
 nihil laboris aut diligentie pretermittemus. Non possum preter- 
 mittere Beatissime pater quin de domino Episcopo 
 regio oratore verbum fatiam qui Sanctitati V. est deditissimus ser- 
 vitor et continuis Uteris suis ad Regem et alios datis fidelissimum 
 atque optimum erga Sanctitatem V. animum suum patefacere non 
 desistit. 
 
 ' Usque ad diem x Januarii superius scriptum et delude nuntius 
 qui recessurus putabatur liusque in hunc diem remansit : interea 
 pater Beatissime celcbratum est parliamentum maxima frequentia : 
 in que hactenus factum est de pecunia iuvenienda ad belluin si quod 
 immineat gerendum. In qua re omnes consenserunt ut regi in 
 triennium provideatur de centum milibus libris hujus monete que 
 faciunt summam CCCC milium et quingentorum ducatorum quod 
 onus pro tribus partibus supportabunt Layci : quartam autem partem 
 clerus: quamvis id nondum conclusum sit quum aliqualis ajtercatio 
 inter clerum et laycos fuit. Volebant enim layci tit nobis due partes 
 imponerentur de tota summa ipsis aut una tantum. Tandem post 
 aliquas deputationes et collocutiones prelatorum et priucipum ad 
 hoc deventum est quod dixi et ita credo quod concliidetur. Statuit 
 autem Rex ad presens exercitura x mil. hominum congregare quorum 
 pars in britaimiam mittetur et ex hiis jam quidem precesserunt, 
 pars alia ad classem deputabitur, tertia autem ad presidiam calisie 
 et aliorum locorum que habet hie Serenissimus rex ad confinia 
 francie. Ita pro nunc decretum est. Cetera autem secundum quod 
 in dies opus esse videbitur disponentur atque ordincbuntur. Dominus 
 Sanctitatem V. ecclesie sue conservet incolumem. 
 
 ' Londinum die xxviii Januarii mcccclxxxix. 
 
 humillima et dec'"-' creatura 
 Jo. D s Collector in Anglia.* 
 
 ' Extra. 
 ' S'™ Domino Nostro Papae.' 
 
 5. GioA'anni di Giglis to Innocent, Jan. 28, 1488 ; Precum 
 Liber, written by Father John, in the possession of E. H. Lawrence,
 
 390 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 Esq. of Abbey Farm Lodge; Historical Memorials of Westminster 
 Abbey, by A. P. Stanley (London, 1868), 162 ; Annals of Windsor, 
 by R. R. Tiglie and J. E. Da\-is (London, 1857), i. 422; Harl. 
 MSS. 366 ; Patent Rolls, April 23, 1487. 
 
 6. Henry to Lmocent, July 16, 1488; Henry to Julius the 
 Second, May 20, 1507 ; Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, July 20, 
 1496 ; Giovanni di Giglis to Innocent, Dec. 6, 1485, Aug. 17, 
 1487 ; Londouo and Matienzo to Fernando and Isabel, July 18, 
 1498. 
 
 Chap. IV. — 1. Royal MSS. xvi.; Privy Purse Expenses of 
 Elizabeth of York, Pref. xxxi. ; Andrg, Vit. Hen. Sept. 37-42. 
 
 2. Patent Rolls, Mar 5, 1486 ; Fcvdera, xii. 329 ; Lelandi Col- 
 lectanea, iv. 249. 
 
 3. A Collection of all the Wills now known to be extant of the 
 Kings and Queens of England, by J. Nichols (London, 1780), 356- 
 403 ; Lives of the Princesses of England, by Mary Ann Everett 
 Green (London, 1849), iii. 395-436, iv. 1-47 ; Gairdner, Letters and 
 Papers, 1. xxiii.; Fisher, Funeral Sei^non on Lady ]\[argaret, 109; 
 Anstey, Munimenta Academica Oxon. i. 364 ; Fuller, History of the 
 University of Cambridge, 90. 
 
 4. llie Antiquarian Repertory, chiefly compiled by Francis Grose 
 (London, 1807), i. 353 ; Patent Rolls, June 12, 1488. 
 
 5. Fabyan, Chronicle, 683; Priv. Pur. Exp. Eliz. York, Ixi. ; 
 Lelandi Collectanea, iv. 207. 
 
 6. Prologue to Caxton's edition of La Mori d^Arthir, 1485 ; 
 Kin/) Arthur, edited for the Ballad Society by J. F. Furnival, 
 Pref. V. ; The most Ancient and famou^ History of the renowned 
 Prince Arthur, King of Britain, 1634; The Scholemaster, by 
 Roger Asch am (London, 1570), 81; Pearson, Early and Middle 
 Ages of England, 58. 
 
 CiiAi'. v.— 1. Henry to Innocent, July 21, 1490; Tighe, 
 Atmnls fif Windsor, i. 408 ; Stanley, Mem. of Westminster, IGl- 
 4 ; iJutler, TJves of Saints, ii. 1126 ; 
 
 2. Henry's Instructions to liis Ambassador in Rome, Feb. 18, 
 1504 ; Historical Memoirs of English, Irish, and Scotch Catholics, by 
 Charles Cutler, i. 45-51. 
 
 3. Riitntorum Parliamentorum, vi. 268-70; Statides of the Realm 
 (1816), 11, 299.
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 391 
 
 4. Anderson, Royal Genealogies, 738; Andre, Vit. Hen. Sept. 9 ; 
 Statutes at Large, 11, 290. 
 
 5. Uiglis to Innocent, Oct. 5, 1488 ; Henry to Innocent, 
 Nov. 10, 1488 ; Fast. Eccl. Angl. i. 270, 340, 567, 632, ii. 40, 51, 
 61, 236, iii. 26, 468; Campbell, Lives of the Lord Chancellors, i. 
 355-62. 
 
 6. Cott. MSS. fol. ii. cited by Collier, Ecclesiastical History 
 of Great Britain, iii. 400 ; Revised Statutes (London, 1870), 112, 
 116, 191, 271; Burnett, History of the Reformation, ed. Pocock 
 (Oxford, 1865), i. 61-2; Coke, Institutes, part ii. c. v. 39; The 
 History of Church Laws in England from 602 to 1850, by Edward 
 Muscutt (London, 1851), 28-32; The Ecclesiastical Law, by Richard 
 Burn, ed. by Robert Phillimore (London, 1842), ii. 32, 34. 
 
 7. Statutes, 1. Hen. 7. c. 2. 
 
 Chap. VI. — 1. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, July 15, 1488. 
 
 2. The Spanish Merchants to Londono, July 18, 1498. 
 
 3. Fast. Eccl. Angl. ii. 378, iii. 373 ; Vita Hen. Sept. 33 ; 
 Edward the Fourth to Pope Sixtus, Feb. 25, 1476 ; Willis, 
 flist. Pari. Mit. Abb. i. 132. 
 
 4. Henry to Cadagua, Nov. 14, 1485 ; the same to Dolaiciola, 
 Jan. 20, 1486 ; the same to Pardo, Mar. 8, 1486 ; the same to 
 Puddessey, Mar. 10, 1487 ; Commission to John Weston and others, 
 March 10, 1488. 
 
 5. Commission to Puebla, April 30, 1488 ; Commission to 
 Puebla and Sepulveda, xVpril 30, 1488. 
 
 Chap. VII. — 1. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, July 15 ; 
 Breton to Sancho de Londono, July 18, 1498. 
 
 2. Henry to Scover, July 25 ; Sub-Prior of Santa Cruz to 
 Fernando and Isabel, July 18, 1498. 
 
 3. Henry to Fernando and Isabel, July 2, 1488. 
 
 4. The Rei^ressor of over-mxich Blaming of the Clergy, by Reginald 
 Pecock, edited by C. Babington (London, 1860), 6, 54, 86, 102, 
 176, 275, 452, 477, 561 ; Shakespeare, Second Part of Henry VI. 
 act iv. s. 7 ; Henry to Fernando and Isabel, July 2, 1488. 
 
 5. Histoire de Bruges (Bruges, 1850), 150-166 ; Grlin, Der 
 letzte Ritter, 79-98 ; Geschichte der Hofnarren, von Karl F. Flogel 
 (Leipsig, 1789), 190; Doran, History of Court Fools, 826-7; Men- 
 zel, Geschichte der Deutschen, c. 189.
 
 392 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 6. Commission to Fox and Danbeney, July 6, 1488; Fast. Eccl. 
 Angl. i. 37G ; Historic Peerage, 145 ; Jerdau, Rutland Papers, 8. 
 
 7. Puebla's Memorandum, July 5, 1488. 
 
 Chap. VIII. — 1. Bergenroth, Cal. Span. Pap. i. 22. 
 
 2. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, July 15, 1488. 
 
 3. Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, Berg. Cal. i. art. 22. 
 
 4. Puebla's Memorandum, July G, 1488. 
 
 5. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, July 15, 1488. 
 
 Chap. IX. — 1. Indenture between Puebla and Sepulveda, am- 
 bassadors of Fernando and Isabel on one part, and Richard, Bishop 
 of Exeter, and Giles Daubeney of Daubeney, Commissioners of Henry 
 the Seventh on the other part, July 7, 1488. 
 
 2. Eobertus BlondeUi de Beductione Normannioe, edited by the 
 Rev. Joseph Stevenson (London, 18G3); Martin, Histoire de France, 
 vii. 398-487, viii. 1-237 ; Ballaguer, Historia de Cataluua, lib. viii. 
 c. 22, 26. 
 
 3. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, July 15, 1488; Indenture, 
 July 7, 1488. 
 
 4. Memorandum drawn up by Puebla and Fox, July 6, 1488 ; 
 Indenture of Articles, July 7, 1488. 
 
 5. Bergenroth, Cal. Span. Papers, i. art. 22 ; Puebla to Fer- 
 nando and Isabel, Oct. 11, 1488. 
 
 G. Bergenroth, Cal. Span. Pap. i. 22. 
 
 7. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, Oct. 30, Dec. 11, 1488. 
 
 FOURTH BOOK. 
 
 Chap. I. — 1. Henry to Fernando and Isabel, July 5, 1488 ; 
 P(dent Rolls, April 8, 17, May 16, 25, Aug. 5, 1488; Documents 
 Oriyinttux de V Histoire de Fi'ance, 292. 
 
 2. Commission to Thomas Savage and Richard Nanfan, Dec. 
 11, 14f<8. 
 
 3. Hintoire Ecch'siastique et Civile de Bretagne, par Dom. P. H. 
 Moricc, continu6e par Dom. Ch. Taillandier (Guincamp, 1835), x. 
 102; Annales Bretons, Morice, Aj). xiv. 421. 
 
 4. Docianents Originaux de I' Histoire de France, 29G ; Morice, 
 Hist, de Bret. x. 103-7.
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMETNS. 393 
 
 5. Florez to Innocent, May 16, 1488; Histoire cle Bretagne, 
 par Dom. Gui. Alexis Lohincau (Paris, 1707), i. 757, 783. 
 
 6. Storia d' Italia di Francesco Gnicciardini (Milano, 1851), lib. 
 ii. c. 3 ; Les Memoires de Messire PhiUrpe de Commines (Lyons, 1559), 
 lib. vii ; Documents Originaux de VHistoire de France, 294-5. 
 
 7. Bacon, Hist. Hen. Sev. Works, vi. 69-70. 
 
 8. Lobincau, Histoire de Bretagne, i. 783; Faidera, July 14, 
 1488; Moricc, Hist. Eccl. et Civ. de Bretagne, x. 107-10. 
 
 Chai'. II. — 1. Commissions to Savage and others, Dec. 11, 
 
 1488 ; Journal de Ruy Machado, printed in Mem. Hen. Sev. 157. 
 
 2. Carvajal, Documentos ineditos, xviii. 274 ; Journal de 
 Machado, 158-62. 
 
 3. My Note-book; Journal de Machado, 162-7 ; Gayangos, Moh. 
 JDi/n Sp. ii. 381-2. 
 
 4. Journal de Machado, 167 ; Manual de ValladoUd, 41. 
 
 5. M}'- Note-book ; Journal de Machado, 169 ; Butler, Lives 
 of Saints, ii. 1121. 
 
 6. My Note-book ; Madoz, Dice. Esp. xi. 339 ; Ford, Hand- 
 hook, 563. 
 
 Chap. III. — 1. Journal de Machado, 170. 
 
 2. Journal de Machado, 170-1. 
 
 3. Journal de Machado, 173-4 ; Clemencin, Elogio, vi. II. 
 14 ; Fray Andreas to Archduchess Juana, Sep. 1, 1498. 
 
 4. Journal de Machado, 172-181. 
 
 5. Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, Dec. 17, 1488, Feb. 15, 
 
 1489 ; Puebla to Fernando, Oct. 11, Dec. 11, 21, 1488. 
 
 6. Treaty between England and Spain, March 27, 1489 ; Treaty 
 of Peace, Sep. 20, 1490. 
 
 7. Zurita, AnaUs,\Y. lib. 19, c. 12 ; Treaty, March 27, 1489. 
 
 CuAP. IV. — 1. Morice, Histoire Ecclesiastique et Civile de 
 Bretagne, x. 181 ; Annales Bretons, App. Morice, xiv. 424 ; Daru, 
 Histoire de Bretagne, iii. 135-144. 
 
 2. Giovanni de Giglis to Innocent, Jan. 28, 1489; Fa>dera, 
 Dec. 11, 1488; Paston Letters, Feb. 10, 1489. 
 
 3. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, Doc. 21, 1488 ; Statutes 
 of the Realm, ii. 528.
 
 394 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 4. Persio Malvezzi to Innocent, March 1 9, 1489 ; Paston Letters, 
 V. 370; Flores to Innocent, Feb. IS, 1490. 
 
 5. Giglis to Innocent, June 28, 1489 ; Malvezzi to Innocent, 
 March 19, 1489; Chieregato to Innocent, April 1, 1489; Sismomli, 
 Histoire de France, xv. 99. 
 
 6. Morice, Hist. Ecd. et Civ. de Bretngne, x. 23, 20 ; Histoire de 
 la Reunion de la Bretagne, par I'Abbe Irail (Paris, 1764), 66-7. In 
 ' Epitres des Dames Illiistres, traduits es Se Ovide, par le Eev. 
 P^re en Dieii Monseigneur I'Evesque d'Angouleme,' a A^olume ■writ- 
 ten and illuminated for Anne of Bretagne, there are two portraits of 
 Anne ; one as Queen of Charles the Eighth, the other as Queen of 
 Louis the Twelfth. This precious work of art belongs to E. H. 
 Lawrence, Esq. of Abbey Farm Lodge. 
 
 7. Paebla to Fernando and Isabel, Oct. 11, 1488; Fernando 
 and Isabel to Puebla, Feb. 15, 1489 ; Anderson, Rmjal Genealogies, 
 621 ; Negociations of the English Ambassadors with Maximilian, 
 in Letters and Papers of Richard the Third and Henry the Seventh, 
 i. 218. 
 
 8. 'D&\-\x, Histoire de Bretagne, iii. 134-140; Documents Origi- 
 naux de V Histoire de France, 313. Portraits of ]\Iax are not 
 uncommon. The portrait in the Romer Saal at Frankfort has been 
 reproduced by Delepierre in his Marit de Bourgogne, p. 3. 
 
 Chap. V. — 1. Delepierre, Chronique de Maximilian, liv. iv. ; 
 Der Weise Kilnig eine erzehlung von de Thaten Kaisers Maximilian 
 der ersten (Wien, 1775); Held und Hitters 2\'wrdanks (Niirnberg, 
 1517); Argontrc, Histoire de Bretagne, x'm. 41. 
 
 2. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, Oct. 11, Dec. 11, 1488. 
 
 3. Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, Dec. 17, 1188. 
 
 4. Henry to Iimocent, .Ian. 2, 1489; Bishop of Concordia to 
 Innocent, April 1, 1489; Malvezzi to Innocent, Mar. 19, Mny 9, 
 1 189; Flores to Innocent, Feb. 18, 1490; Sismondi, Rvpubiiques 
 Italiennes, tome vi. c. 7- 
 
 5. Giglis to Innocent, Jan. 28, 1489 ; Malvezzi to Innocent, 
 May 9, 1489. 
 
 6. Malvezzi to Innocent, IMar. 19, 1189; Hook, Archbishops oj 
 Canterhurjf, v. 477 ; Campbell, Lives of Lord Chancellors, i. 361. 
 
 7. Malvezzi to Innocent, Mar. 19, ]\Iay 9, 1489- (Venetian 
 Calendar, under date.) Mulvozzi writes : — ' Beatissime Pater, post
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 395 
 
 bcatovum pedum oscula : Per benche per un' altra communa cnm el 
 Collectore Vostra Santita possa intendere el caso novamente de qua 
 advenuto, nieute di mancho per non lasoare cosa cognosca esser mio 
 debito nei daro per la presente particulare aviso ; Quella per piu mie 
 hara inteso el denaro imposto da questo S. Re per tucta Lingilterra 
 per aiiitar la Bertagiiia: etessendo ali di passati un gran Signore de 
 existimatioue et auctorita apresso de questo Sigr. Ee cavalcato per 
 cogliere denari nel suo dominio clie e ne le parte boreale al recontro 
 de la Scotia, certi soi subditi et del principali non volevano se mettesse 
 tal graveza et a loro inussitata per li tempi passati : Per questo el 
 dicto Signore desdignato, non potendoli havere per via altima ne 
 le mano, comincio a minacciar de voler loro fare et dire et in breve 
 spatio radunate octocento persone delibero per forza haberli. 
 Questi tali Rebelli inteso questo, considerando che se venevano 
 in sua potesta sarebono privati de vita, se messero per desperati et 
 radunorno fra parenti et*amici persone circa cinquecento, li quali 
 aspectando dicto Signore infra breve tempe forono alemani, et lo 
 primo morto fu el Signore. Li altri soi, vedutolo morto se dettero a 
 fugire et cussi fu facto poco sangue non andando la cosa piu innanti. 
 Imo retirandose li rebelli ale loro case et dolendose dopo el facto : 
 mandarono de li a dui di al S. Re per misericordia promettendo far 
 quanto sua Maesta vorra : La qual cosa non obstante ha deliberate 
 questo S. Re si per mantener justitia como per dare exemplo ali 
 altri punirli et tucta via fa metter in ordine gente assai cum pro- 
 posito de andar in persona, et martedi o mercordi deve andare ; Non 
 so che se fara : molti dicono che questa cosa hara presto fine per 
 esser quelli talli rebelli senza capo alcuno et de poco auctorita : 
 multi anchora dubitano che qualche gran Signore non ce tenga 
 mano et che habia ad esser pegio che altri non existima ; la qual 
 cosa presto se vedera : et quando sia me sforzaro darne subito pieno 
 aviso a Vostra Santita. Essendosi questa nova intesa in Londra 
 et seguente di Monsr. R™°- Cantuariense venne qui per andare dal 
 S. Re quale 6 lontano XX. miglia : Andai una cum el Collector 
 avisitar sua Signoria Reverendissima et dixece quanto per la com- 
 muna letera V. Santita. intendera al quale habiamo obedito : et 
 andati al S. Re quale ce ha dicto pur quanto habiamo scripto 
 comunamente et bisognace obtemperarli non possendo fare altro : 
 Quando V Santita voglia in questo faociamo niente quella, se degni 
 commettere ce sia avisata la sua voluntu : che da quella non ce
 
 396 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 parteremo. Nove sonno scripte per la comnna letera, per tanto 
 non terra V Santita a tedio : solo avisando clie bono foria quella 
 se degnasse commettere dui brevi al Sig. Re et a Mons. Cantuarieuse: 
 li quali avendo i:)igliata adniiratioiie che essendo facti iiovi Cardi- 
 nali non ce sia stato assumpto el dicto Mons. Cautuariense, maxime 
 havendone supplicata V. Santita piii volte et liavutane quasi 
 speranza bona, considero essendo io nel facto foria bono per V* 
 Santita scrivarli accio perseverino in la bona disj^ositione et devo- 
 tione verso quella per la quale hucusque hanno facto quanto 
 li sia stato possibile. Pretera habiamo operta la capsa die la 
 Maestadel Sig. Re volse havere in la sua corte ; in la quale 
 habiamo trovate libre XL et soldi XI., clie ce ha facto maucare 
 lanimo per esser stati li CI. S. Re, la Regina, la matre del Re et de 
 la Regina, con Duchi Conti et Marchessi et altri Signori et oratori 
 che credevanno havere molto piii. Habiamo havute dispense fin a 
 lodierno di XXVII. de le quale habiamo havute libre de questa 
 moneta xxxviiii. che tucte le habiamo remesse al bancho : et 
 de mano in mano se raandarano le letere del cambio secondo el 
 temj^o. Speramo per I'advenir far meglio de queste dispense per 
 che gia piii di se saputo per tucto, et tanto piii faremo quando 
 havessemo le faculta che per una com una, fo avisato. Le nove 
 habiamo souno scripte per la comuna, altro non occurre preter 
 humiliter et prostrate reccommandarine ali piedi de V" Beatitudine, 
 qnam Dens popnlo Christiano incoliimem conservet. 
 ' Londoniis, Die nona Maij mcccclxxxviiii. 
 • * E. V. S"'- 
 
 ' Servulus deditissimus, 
 
 ' PEItSEUS MaLVITIUS.' 
 
 Chap. VL— 1. Henry to Lord Oxford, April 22, 1483. 
 
 2. Lobincau, Histoire de Bretagne, x. 181; Annales Bretons, xiv. 
 425-7. 
 
 3. Hall, Union nf lAincaster and York, lieign oj Ilem'ij Seventh, 
 f. xviii ; Cotton JMSS. Jul. xi. 55. 
 
 4. Treaty of Charles King of France and ]\Iax King of the 
 Romans, Frankfurt, July 22, 1481). 
 
 5. 'J'rcaty of Charles and Max, July 22, 1489; Martin, Histoire 
 de France, viii. 249. 
 
 ('). l<>niando ami Isabel to the IJishoj) of Badajos, their Ambas- 
 sador in Rome, May H, 11 !H); Isabel to riiobhv. May 2G, 1491 ;
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 397 
 
 Flores to Innocent, July 28, Aug. 9, 12, 25, Sept. 8, 1490; Ojms 
 Epist. Pet. Mart. lib. v. Ep. 120. 
 
 Chap. VII. — 1. Fernando and Isabel to the Bishop of Badajos, 
 May 6, 1490. 
 
 2. Henry's proposed additional clauses to the treaty -with 
 Fernando and Isabel, September 20, 1490 ; Puebla to Fernando, 
 Aug. 25, 1498. 
 
 3. Fernando and Isabel to Guevara and Puebla, Bergenroth's 
 Cal. Span. Pap. i. 41. 
 
 4. Fernando and Isabel to Rojas, July 4, 1490. 
 
 5. Mosquera to Henry, Bergenroth, Cal. Sp. Pap. i. 57, 58 ; 
 Morice, Annates Bretons, xiv. 427. 
 
 6. Flores to Innocent, Feb. 18, 1490; Adriano Castello to 
 Innocent, Dec. 5, 1490; Henry to Innocent, April 21, 1491 ; Patent 
 Rolls, Sept. 6, Nov. 17, 1490, June 29, 1492; Fast. Eccl. Angl. i. 
 143,466, ii. 383: Pecoclc, Pepressor of over-much blaming of the 
 Clergy, xxiv. ; Lewis, Life of Pecoclc, 63-150. 
 
 7. Isabel to Puebla, May 26, 1491; Morice, Annales Bretons, 
 xiv. 428 ; Lobineau, Histoire de Bretagne, i. 816-7, ii. 1536-9. 
 
 Chap. VIII. — 1. Flores to Innocent, Sept. 8, 1490; Morice, 
 Annales Bretons, xiv. 428. 
 
 2. Daru, Histoire de Bretagne, iii. 175; ^ox'iCQ, Annales Bretons, 
 xiv. 429-430. 
 
 3. Le Tresor des Charles, par M. A. Teulet, Aug. 19, 1498. 
 
 4. Henry to Innocent, Dec. 8, 1491. Henry writes : — ' Beatis- 
 sime pater, post humillimam commendacionem' et devotissima 
 pedum oscula beatissimorum. Cum superioribus annis galli 
 primura in Ducatum Brittanie arma movissent : et bello gravi, 
 ac forti manu premerent, ut ducatum ipsuni sibi subderent ; nos 
 pro illo federe atque auiicitia, quam cum ipso ducatu habehamus, 
 oratores nostros ad ipsos gallos misimus, eis declarantes nos 
 cum domina ducissa ac ducatu, Item et cum domino duce dum 
 in humanis ageret suis se et esse confederatos, et ad eorum Qe^en- 
 sionem obstrictos : nee posse illi ducatui aliquam injuriam inforri 
 quin esset nobiscum communis : atque idcirco eos rogatos fecimus : 
 ut ab ipso bello vellent desistere : et omnem arniorum vim ac copias 
 militum revocare, si jus aliquod pretcuderent, vel justam aliquam
 
 398 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 causam aliquod vendicandi haberent : non vi aut armis, sed jure efe 
 amicabili compositione rem suam vellent tractare : hi aiitem orato- 
 ribus nostris responderunt se se esse contentos, \\t cause omnes quas 
 Laberent contra ipsam dominam ducissam ac ducatum compromis- 
 erentur, amicabiliterque tractarentm- : pacemque tarn cum ipsa 
 domina ducissa quam nobiscum se esse compositnros. Moxque ipsi 
 galli superinde oratores suos ad nos misere, ut de pace inter nos et 
 illos ac ducatum Britannic pariter fienda tractaretur. Post multa 
 nos pacis amplectende cupidi ; atque etiam prius nobiscum statuentes 
 jus nostrum hoc prescriptum tempore negligere ; et aliquod potius 
 incommodum ac detrimentum pati et subire quam inimicias cum- 
 illis fovere, tandem in quedam pacis capitula cum ipsis gallis orato- 
 ribus convenimus : pro quorum quidem capitulorum confirmationg, 
 cum oratores nostros in gallia misissemus : nil eorum que fuerant 
 conventa nobiscum approbare galli voluerunt : quin immo cum ipsi 
 nova quedam pacis eapitula formassent, et oratores nostri ea nostro 
 nomine acceptare vellent, revocarunt illico quecumque ab eis fuerant 
 oblata : quoniam nonnullis Brittanie proceribus illius ducatus 
 regimen tenentibus, corruptis et circumventis, non dubitabant sibi 
 omnia pro voto successura. Sicuti dominus Episcopus Concordia 
 vestre Sanctitatis legatus si vera voluerit referre plane potuit vestre 
 Sanctitati affirmare : et ut paucis concludamus, nobis pacem com- 
 ponere volentibus, nunquam nisi nostro cum dedecore ad earn com- 
 ponendam voluerunt inclinare : sed tandiu de pace nobis verba 
 dedere et spem pacis proposuere ut aliud animo volventes, continuato 
 forti et gravi bello, paulatim sibi univorsum ilium ducatum usurparint 
 et in potestatem suam redegercnt : noc eo quidem sint contcnti : sed 
 etiam tum nobis, tuni vicinis et confoderatis nostris reliquis, que- 
 cumque pernitiosa maccliinontur, et in dies magis ac magis inter- 
 minentur. Et ne omnia silentio pretereamus, scotos in prirais suis 
 Uteris et nuuciis sollicitarunt atque assidue sollicitant, ut contra nos 
 bellum moveant, et regnum nostrum invadant, pecuniasque et arma 
 ac com meatus ad cos proinde misere : Pretcrea et domicellos quos- 
 dam in doniinio nostro liihornie, nonnuUostjuo hoc in regno nostro, 
 niultis i)(>llicitationil)Us ad rebolHoncui contra nos sunt adhortati : 
 ad lioc et nonnullos regni nostri fines hostilitor invasere, et prcdis 
 atcjuc inccndiis sunt crassati Quoniodo autcm in flandria egerint, 
 qua arte gandavum oppidum ab obbedientia serenissimi Romanornm 
 regis nostri confcdcrati retraxerint : Sclusasquc occuparint : ct alia
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 399 
 
 item oppida qnam plurima in dies sollicitcnt, xii a sevenissimo 
 ronianorum rege et ejus filio domino duce Burgundie herede futuro, 
 iiostris confederatis deficiiuit, nemo est qui non intelligat. Cmii 
 igitur que pacis sint omnia tentaveriraus et nil omnino quod jnstum 
 honestumve esset asseqni potuerimus : nihil aliud pater sancfce est 
 nobis reliqmmi, nisi nt has tot injurias que nohis et amicis nostris 
 quotidie inferruntnr pi*o nostra et regni nostri dignitate repellamns 
 et propulsemus bellumque in eos neccssario sumamus : quandoqnidem 
 pro parte nostra nihil omnino intentatum reliquimus, quo pacem et 
 amicitiam retineremus, ac de nostro potius aliquid dimitteremus, 
 quam pacem in bellum essemus commutatiiri, utpote qui nil magis 
 abhorreamns quara cedes hominum, et christiani sanguinis effusionem. 
 Non ferenda est profecto, Beatissime pater, non est fei'enda tanta et 
 tam insaciabilis aliem imperii cupiditas. Satis autem intelligimns 
 quanta pernicies immineat vicinis omnibus populis et gentibus si hec 
 tanta propagandi sitis non compescatur. Quod si tam insolens 
 licentia nuUis frenis cohibita, pro votohuc etilluc serperet; nescimus 
 an fortassis in aliquos etiam Italic potentatus excurreret, et vestre 
 quoque Sanctitati, ac sedi Apostolice cum sua pragmatica sanctione, 
 quam nos semper damnavimus, aliquid inferret turbinis et nocu- 
 menti 
 
 ' Ex regia nostra grenuici Die viii. Decembris, mcccclxxxj. 
 ' E. V. S"^- . 
 
 ' Devotissimus atque obsequentissimus filius Dei gra'. Bex 
 
 Anglic et Franc : ac Dns hyb'nie. 
 
 ' Henkicus E.' 
 
 Sanctissimo clementissimoque Domino nostro Pape. 
 
 5. Articles respecting a war with France, Nov. 22, 1491 ; Henry 
 to Sf'orza, Jan. 10, 1492 ; Ballaguer, Historia di Cataluna, lib. viii. 
 c. 30. 
 
 6. Andre, Vit. Ihn. Sept. 58-64; Novaes, Storia de! Sommi 
 Pontefici da San Pietro, vi. 79 ; Sismondi, Repuhlujues Italiemies, 
 vi. 253 ; Henry to Alexander the Sixth, Dec. 12, 1492. Henry 
 writes: — 'Beatissime pater post humilem commendacionem et 
 devotissima pedum oscula beatorum etc. Cum antea sepe felicis 
 quondam recondationis S'""- Domino notro Vestre Sanctitatis 
 predecessori litteris nostris intimassemus nos ob certas quasdam 
 legittimas causas, quas turn demonstravimus, bellum in gallos esse 
 sumpturos : atque re ipsa id egerimus : non alienum esse duximus,
 
 400 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 nt qtialis fuerit exitus, vestre Sanctitati significaremus : arbitrantes 
 illani grato animo esse acceptxiram quicquid a nobis superinde actum 
 sit, atqne etiam consilia nostra non improbaturam. Cum enim 
 snpra duos anteactos menses cum exercitu nostro personaliter tra- 
 jecissemus, et ad lioc nostrum oppidura Callesium applicuissemus : 
 Moxque occupatis quibusdam finitimis oppidis boloniam obsideremus 
 oppidum munitissimum preter omnem expectationem oblate est nobis 
 a gallis certfi quedam pax cum hujusmodi conditionibus, ut a nemine 
 Christiauo Catbolicoque principe satis recusari posse videretur : 
 quare ipsam pacem acceptavimus : tum ut aliis negotiis intende- 
 remus, turn etiam ut Christiani sanguinis effusionem quam semper 
 abhorruimus pro viribus effugeremus sicuti latius ex oratoribus 
 nostris istic existentibus, quibus fidem superinde haberi volumus, 
 vestra Sanctitas latius intelliget, que felicissime valeat ad vota. 
 
 ' Ex Callesio oppido nostro Die xii. Decembris, 1492. 
 ' E. V. S"^- 
 
 ' Devotissimus ct obsequentissimus filius Dei gra'. Rex Anglie 
 
 et franc ' : ac d'ns byb'nie. 
 
 Henricus R.' 
 
 * Sanctissimo clementissimoque Domino nostro Pape.' 
 
 6. Dumont, Corps DiplomaU'que, iii. 297, 300. Ballaguer, 
 Historia de CataluTia, lib. viii. c. 30. 
 
 7. Sismondi, Repnhliques Italiennes, vi. 2G7-71; Guicciardini, 
 Storia tr Italia, lib. i. c. 1. 
 
 FIFTH BOOK. 
 
 Chap. I. — 1. Carvajal, Documentos ineditos, xviii. 280; Balla- 
 guer, Historia de Cataliuia, lib. viii. c. 30. 
 
 2. Giovio, Vita Magni Goufalvi {'m 'Vita: Illustrium Virorum'), 
 lib. i. 212; T/ie Life and Acts of J)on Alonzo Knriqucz de Giisvian, 
 Translated from an original manuscript in the National Library at 
 Madrid, by C. R. Markbam (London, 1802), 9, 10, 12, 17. 
 
 3. Gamero, Historia de Toledo^ 893-932 ; Gayangos, Moh. Di/n. 
 Sp. i. llG-118, 140, 143, 151 ; Ford, IJandbook of Spain, i. 50, 
 ii. 722, 798; Stirling, Annals of the Artists of Spain., iii. 84-6; 
 Notice sur les anncs drj'ensive et sprcialrnient snr cellis rjui ont vsitee 
 en Espofjne, par Acliillc Jubinal (I'ari.s, 1840); Altafaj, Zt/rrt^/oza,
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 401 
 
 112. The best way to see the superiority of Moorish work is to 
 compare the Moorish and Spanish sections of a great museum. 
 
 4. Jones, Palace of the ^//ia?tti?-a, various plates ; An Architect' s 
 Note-hook on Spain, by Sir Digby Wyatt (London, 1872) ; Wolf, 
 Primavera, 1, 234; Chronica del Cid, c. 19; Giovio, Vita Magni 
 Gonsalvi, lib. i. 211. 
 
 5. Die religiose Poesie der Juden in Spanien, von Michael Sachs 
 (Berlin, 1845), 180-213; Los Rios, Etudes sur les Juifs d' Espagne, 
 319-416; Ginsburg, Q/c. Bihl. Lit. i. 28, iii. 725; Kayserling, 
 Juden in Portugal, 85-119. 
 
 6. Capitulacion con Moros y Caballeros de Castilla (Archiv. 
 Gen. Siman.), Estado, leg. P; Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. i. 
 211 ; Mendoza, Cromca del Gran Cardenal, 238 
 
 7. Hammer, Histoire de V Empire Ottoman, lib. xx.; Sismondi, 
 Hist. Rep. Ital. vi. c. 4, 6, 7. 
 
 8. Bull of Innocent VIIL April 20, 1487 ; Bulls of Alexander VL 
 Feb. IG, 1493, August 5, 1495 ; Fernando to Elizabeth, Decem- 
 ber 4, 1489 ; Alexander VI. to Puebla, April 10, 1490. 
 
 Chap. II. — 1. Coleccion de los Viages y descruhrimientos que 
 hicieron por Mar los Espanoles desde Fines del Sigh XV. (Madrid, 
 1825), i. Int. 60 ; Mariana, Historia generale de EspaJla, ii. 470- 
 516 ; Carvajal, Documentos ineditos, xviii. 274-9. 
 
 2. My Note Book; Plans, Elevations, Sections, and Details oj 
 the Palace of the Alhamhra, by Jules Goury and Owen Jones 
 (London, 1842), i. 16 ; Gayangos, Moh. Dyn. of Spain, i. 43, 44 ; 
 also Notes to ch. ii. p. 351 ; Mendoza, Cromca del Ch'an Cardenal, 
 238 ; Zurita, Anales, iv. c. 90. 
 
 3. Capitulacion con Moros y Caballeros de Castilla, La Real 
 Vega de Granada, Dec. 30, 1492; Kayserling, Dz'e Juden in Navarre, 
 227 ; Graetz, Geschichte der Juden,%vui. 355-63 ; Lindo, 227, 248. 
 
 4. Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. i. 212. 
 
 5. Graetz, Gesch. Jud. viii. 335, 358 ; Lindo, 377-84 ; Gins 
 burg, * Abfavanel,' in Kitto's Cyclopcedia of Biblical Literature, \. 28 
 The articles on. Spanish Jews, by Dr. Ginsburg, are of special value. 
 
 6. Yanguas y Miranda, Diccionario de Navarra, 227 ; Colmen- 
 ares, Historia de Segovia, c. xxxv. ; Los Rios, Etudes sur les Juifs, 
 157-172; Ginsburg, ' Saccuto,' in Cyc. Blbl. Lit. iii. 725. . 
 
 7. Los Rios, Etudes sur les Juifs, 173-194. 
 
 VOL. I. D D
 
 402 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 Chap. III. — 1. Carvajal, Documenfos Ineditos, xviii, 278-281 ; 
 Gayangos, Moh. Dijn. Sp. ii. 390-392. 
 
 2. Passport for Antonio Geraldino (Arch. Gen. de la Cor. 
 Aragon), Eegistros, 3549, f. 97; Biog. Univ. xvii. 165. 
 
 3. Bernaldes, Reyes Catolicos, c. 93. 
 
 4. My Note Book ; Jones, Palace of the Alhambra,YaY\ous plates ; 
 Gayangos, Moh. Dijn. Sp. i. 43, 44, ii. 368. 
 
 5. Madoz, Diccionario de EspaUa, viii. 468 ; Mariana, Historia 
 de Espaiia, ii. 511. 
 
 6. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, July 17, 1498; Quintanillo, 
 Archeti/po, lib. ii. c. 9 ; Fray Andreas to Juana, Sep. 1. 1498. 
 
 Chap. IV. — 1. Carvajal, Documentos Ineditos, xviii. 282-4. 
 
 2. Richard, Duke of York, to Isabel, Sep. 8, 1493. 
 
 3. Documents relating to Perlctn WarbecJc, by Sir F. Madden, 
 Archivologia, xxvii. 153; Gairdner, Mem. Hen. Sev. Pref. xxx. 
 xxxvi. ; Gairdner, Letters and Papers, ii. l.-lx. ; Bacon, History of 
 Henry the Seventh, Works, vi. 132. 
 
 4. Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, April 14, 1496. 
 
 5. Bacon, Works, vi. -133-6. 
 
 6. Patent Rolls, Feb. 19, 1486, Feb. 26, 1488. 
 
 7. Bergenroth, Cat. Span. Pap. i. Ixxxv. 
 
 8. Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, July 20, 1495. 
 
 Chap. V. — 1. Duchess Margaret to Alexander VI., in Mem. Hen. 
 Sev. Ap. A. 323-9 ; Smith, History of Cork; i. 422. 
 
 2. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, Aug. 25, 1498 ; Calendar 
 of the Carew 3ISS. preserved in the Archiepiscopal Library at Lam- 
 beth, edited by J. S. Brewer and William Bnllen (London, 1871), 
 472 ; History of the Viceroys of Ireland, by J. T. Gilbert (Dublin, 
 1865), 444 ; Gairdner, Letters gnd Papers, ii. xlix-liii. 
 
 3. Bishop of Brixou to the Signory, May 5, June 14, July 11, 
 17, 1495; Contarini and Trcvisauo to the Signory, July 17, 1495; 
 Brewer and Bullen, Cal. Careiv MSS. 188. 
 
 4. Contarini to the Scignory, May 1, June 9, 14, July 17, 
 1196; Ap. Mem. Hen. Sev. 393-9; Pat. liolls, March 22, 
 July 20, 1495. 
 
 5. Collections for a History of Sandu-ich, in Kent, by William 
 Boys (Canterbury, 1792), 680; Andre, Vit. Hen. Sep. 69.
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 403 
 
 6. Patent Rolls, June 16, Sep. 21, 1494, July 26, 1495 ; The 
 Annals of Ireland, translated from tlie original Irish of tbe Four 
 Masters by Owen Connellan (Dublin, 1846), 319, 330. 
 
 7. Tlie Eaids of Kildare and their Ancestors, by the Manj^uis of 
 Kildare (Dublin, 1858), i. 47, 52, 56 ; Gilbert, Viceroys of Ireland, 
 448-56 ; Hook, Archbishops of Canterbury, v. 507-8 ; Brewer and 
 BuUen, Calendar of Carew MSS. 179. 
 
 8. Contarini to the Signory, July 25, Aug. 16, 1495 ; Ryland, 
 History of Waterford, 30, 51 ; Gilbert, Viceroys of Ireland, 457 ; 
 Brewer and Bullen, Cal Car. MSS. 472. 
 
 Chap. VI. — 1. Contarini and Trevisano to the Signory, Aug. 
 16, Dec. 10, 1495 ; Contarini to Signory, Jan. 4, 6, 1496. 
 
 2. Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, Jan. 20, 1496 ; Guicciardini, 
 Storia d'ltalia, lib. ii. c. iii. ; Sismondi, Repuhliques Italiennes, vi. 
 262-374 ; Bergenroth, Cal. Span. Papers, i. art. 22 ; Ballaguer, 
 Historia de Cataluna, lib. viii. c. 31 ; New Treaty of Spain and 
 England, Mar. 8, 1493 ; Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, Sep. 25, 
 1498. 
 
 3. Brewer and Bullen, Cal. Car. MSS. 179, 180 ; Kildare, Earls 
 of Kildare, i. 57, 8; Gilbert, Viceroys of Ireland, 460. 
 
 4. Secret Instructions for Puebla to carry into England, Feb, 
 25, 1495. 
 
 5. Andre, Vit. Hen. Sep. 67-8 ; Henry's Instructions to Rich- 
 mond King-at-Arms, Aug. 10, 1494; Fernando and Isabel to 
 Puebla, July 20, 1495. 
 
 6. Isabel to Puebla, Aug. 8, 1490; Comines to the Signory, 
 Oct. 3, 1494 ; Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, Jan. 30, Mar. 28, 
 1496 ; Fernando and Isabel to Henry, Jan. 30, 31, 1496. 
 
 7. Alexander to Puebla, April 10, 1496; Fernando and Isabel 
 to Puebla, April 14, 1496. 
 
 8.' Patent Rolls, April 12, 1495, Mar. 18, 1496, Feb. 4, 1497. ' 
 
 Chap. VII. — 1. Cronica del Gran Cardenal, lib. ii. c. 46. 
 
 2. Europa Portuguesa, pelo Faria y Sousa, ii. 452 ; Gractz, 
 Geschichte der Juden, viii. 357, 386. 
 
 3. Cronica del Gran Cardenal, lib. ii. c. 46. 
 
 4. Clemenciu, Elogio, vi. 496 ; mcccix. to Alonzo de Com-
 
 404 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 pludo, Agent in London, Dec. 28, 1495 ; Jost, Geschichte des Juden- 
 thum, iii. 113. 
 
 5. Spinola to Viseonti, July 1 (?), Dec. 27, 1490; Isabel to 
 PueLla, Aug. 18, 1496 ; Kayserling, Geschichte der Juden in Por- 
 tugal, 120-39. 
 
 6. Santarem, Quadro Elementar, ii. 3-6 ; Isabel to Puebla, 
 Aug. 18, 1496. 
 
 Chap. VIII. — 1. Fray Tomas de Matienzo to Fernando and 
 Isabel, Aug. 1498; Fray Andreas to Juana, Sep. 1, 1498. 
 
 2. Flechier, Histoire de Cardinal Ximenes, 56. 
 
 3. Capitulacion con Moros y Caballeros de Castilla, Dec. 30 
 1492; Conde, Descnpcion deEspaUa, 4; Gayangos, Hist. Moh. Dyn. 
 i. viii. 
 
 4. Bergenroth, Sup. Cal. Span. Pap. 47, 48, 50, 405. 
 
 5. Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, July 20, Dec. 28, 1495. 
 
 Chap. IX. — 1. Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, Dec. 28, 1495; 
 Contarini to the Signory, Aug. 22, 1495. 
 
 2. Contarini to the Signory, Aug. 22, 1495; Zurita, Rey Her- 
 nando V. lib. ii. c. 5. 
 
 3. Isabel to Puebla, July 10, 1496 ; Fernando and Isabel to 
 Puebla, July 6 ; Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, July 11. 
 
 4. Santarem, Quadro Elementar, ii. 3 ; Mariana, Hist. Esp. ii. 
 561 ; Graetz, Geschichte der Juden, viii. 388-99 ; Lindo, Hist. Jews, 
 325-9. 
 
 5. Faria y Sousa, Europa Portuguesa, ii. 494; Kayserling, 
 Geschichte der ,Tudcn in Portugal, 128. 
 
 G. Zurita, Rey Hernando v. 127 ; Ginsburg, Cyc. Bibl. Lit. iii. 
 725. 
 
 SIXTH BOOK. 
 
 Chap. I. — 1. Bacon, Works, vi. 204; Kayserling, Juden in 
 Port. 131; Guicciardini, »S7omi d' Italia, lib. iii.; Zurita, Anales, 
 V. lib. iii. c. 6. 
 
 2. Puobla to Fernando and Isabel, July 17, 1498. 
 
 3. Histoire du Cardinal Ximenes, par Moycr Esprit FlC'chier, 
 5C-8 ; Put'l)la to Fernando and Isabel, .July 17, 1498. 
 
 4. Treaty of Henry with Fernando and Isabel, Oct. 1, 1496;
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 405 
 
 Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, June 13, 1496 ; Fernando and 
 Isabel to Puebla, Dec. 28, 1495, June 21, July 11, 1496; Isabel 
 to Puebla, Aug. 18, 1496. 
 
 5. Treaty of Henry with the Pope, the Emperor, Fernando 
 and Isabel of Spain, and the Dukes of Venice and Milan, July 18, 
 Sep. 23, 1496. 
 
 6. Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, January 30, 1496; Fer- 
 nando and Isabel to Puebla, April 14, 1496 ; Alexander VI. to 
 Puebla, April 10, 1496 ; Maximilian to Puebla, April 18, 1496 ; 
 Pecontract of the Holy League, on the accession to it of Henry 
 VII. July 18, 1496. 
 
 Chap. II. — 1. Burton, //?s^ Scotland, iii. 187; Gairdner, Ze^to'S 
 and Papers, Ap. B. xvi. Mem. lien. Sev. 70. 
 
 2. History of Scotland, by John Pinkerton (London, 1797), ii. 
 26-7 ; Gairdner, Letters and Papers, ii. 73 ; Andre, Vit. Hen. Sept. 
 70 ; Richard, Duke of York, to Lady Catharine Gordon, Berg. Sp. 
 Cal. i. 78. 
 
 3. Harl. MSS. 283, fo. 123 b. printed in Bacon's Works, vi. 
 252; Pinkerton, Hist. Scot. ii. 29-30; Archa;ologia, xxvii. 181; 
 Fast. Eccl Angl. i. 142, 555, iii. 292. 
 
 4. Original Letters, edited by Sir Henry Ellis, First Series, i. 
 22, 25; Tytler, Hist, of Scotland, iii. 262-4; Pinkerton, Hist. 
 Scot. ii. 26-31 ; Isabel to Puebla, August 14, 1496. 
 
 5. Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, April 27, June 21, 1496 ; 
 Isabel to Puebla, 14 August, 1496 ; Bacon's Hist, of Hen. VIL 
 Works, vi. 1845 ; Hen. VII. to Fernando and Isabel, 18 Dec. 
 1500; Ayala to Fernando and Isabel, 14 July, 1498; Sub-Prior 
 of Santa Cruz to Fernando and Isabel, July 18, 1498 ; 
 
 6. Bergenroth, Cal. Sp. Pap. i. 26 ; Isabel to Puebla, August 
 18, 1496. 
 
 7. Ayala to Fernando and Isabel, July 25, 1498; Tytler, 
 History of Scotland, ii. 263 ; Bergenroth, Cal. Sp. Pap. i. 26. 
 
 Chap. III.— 1. Isabel to Puebla, Aug. 18, 1496 ; Pinkerton, 
 Hist. Scot. ii. 37; Burton, Hist. Scot. iii. 212-18; Tytler, Hist. 
 Scot. ii. 270. 
 
 2. Fernando and Isabel to Puebla, April 14, 26, 27, June 13> 
 21, July 11, Aug. 18, 1496; Isabel to Puebla, Aug. 25, 1496, 
 
 D D 2
 
 406 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 Jan. 10, 1497; Fernando and Isabel to Londono^and Sub-Prior 
 of Santa Cruz, Mar. 7, 1498 ; 
 
 3. Bacon, Hist. Hen. Sev. Worhs, vi. 185 ; Eymer, Fcedera, xii. 
 572 ; Mem. Hen. Sev. 400 ; Fernando and Isabel to Loudono, 
 Mar. 7, April 7, 1498. 
 
 4. Instructions to Bishop Fox, July 5, 1497; Puebla to Fer- 
 nando and Isabel, Jan. 11, 1500. 
 
 5. Raimondo to Sforza, Sep. 8, 1497. (Venetian Transcripts, 
 vol. xiv. 127.) Raimondo writes : — ' Illustrissimo et excellentissimo 
 Segnor raio. In multe cose cognosco questo principe essere sapien- 
 tissimo ma sopra tutto per che sua Maesta intende benissimo le 
 cose de Italia, et ha particulare aviso de ogni occorrentia et ditta 
 Maesta intende le conditione de la vostra persona et del vostro stato 
 non meno che lo Re Christianissimo et quando ditto Re passo in 
 Italia li mando apresso uno suo Heraldo chiamato Richimondo 
 homo savio chi ha veduto ogni cosa fin a la tornata poi li mer- 
 canti non cessano mai de avisare maxime liorentini. Ultra de 
 questo soa Maesta ha in Roma homini notabili como e messer 
 Zoane Zilio Luchese et messer Adriano chierico de camera bene- 
 ficiati et arrichiti da ditta Maesta per modo che non li havemo 
 ditto cosa nova et anche li cortesani intcndeno multo de le cose 
 nostre per modo che me pare de essere in Roma. Unde io 
 estimo sara bene fatto quando se vora avisare alcuna cosa overo 
 notificarla piu distinctamente che li altri overo avisarla primo che 
 li altri. In cio servira bene la scarsella de Genoa ma piu li mer- 
 canti fiorentini chi siano confidenti per che le cose loro passano 
 per francia senza impedimento et se fa pocha cercata. F stata a 
 proposito la congratulatione de la victoria regia scritta a xvii. do 
 Julio ma era pur tardctta et gia sono due victorie la prima contra 
 Cornualiesi quali sotto uno ferraro se posseno in arme circa X'" 
 dicendo non volevano paghare el subsidio laltra contra el Serenissimo 
 Re de Scotia d (|nale se Icvato de campo non multo gloriosamente 
 per non parlare cum manco modestia de qucllo fa questo Re sapien- 
 tissimo. Et cosa che sua IMaesta non me ha ditto qucllo giovene 
 chi vorcbc essere roputato filiolo del Re l']dunrdo c fugito incognito 
 et la niolie so dice essere prosonora por modo che io roputo quosto 
 giovcnc ditto pirichino csscro andato in fiinio et stabilito el Regno 
 ancora per lo succcssore che piaccia a dio cosi sia per che la virtu 
 8oa lo merita parlo del Illustrissimo principe. Et Vostra E.vccllentia
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 407 
 
 po securamente congratularsi cum quelli Serenissimi Rcali de Spagna 
 de cosi prestante genero. Et tanto piu se potera iudicare stabilito 
 se succede el matrinionio de Spagna cum ditto Serenissimo Re de 
 Scotia clie sono avisato se pratica. Et uno oratore hispano e 
 presso ditto Re ma quando bene mancasse tale matrimonio questo 
 regno e firmissimo primo per la sapientia de la quale ogniuno teme 
 poi per le richeze die sono informato lia piu de sei milioni d'oro et 
 dicessi clie ogni anno repone piu de cinquecento milia ducati che e 
 facile cosa per che la intrata e grande viva non in scriptis, et non 
 spende nulla. El guarda due o tre forteze fora del costume de li 
 predeccssori chi non guardavano alcuna del resto niente ne orde- 
 nanza ne altro. Estimo el non habia cento persone de guarda 
 quantunche al presente habiti in loco foresto non munito. Tra le 
 altre cose el sa bene intertenere ciascuno lo monstro avanti che io 
 venessi in questo regno che volendo li oratori francesi andare in 
 Scotia sotto nome de interpositione a la pace li festegio mirabilmente 
 et li presento et li mando a casa senza vedere Scotia et hora manda 
 uno suo camerero in francia. Perho e multo da laudare la Santita 
 de nostro Signore quale lo ama cordialniente et lo favorisce in ogni 
 cosa possibile fortificando questo regno de censure ecclesiastics per 
 modo che in ogni tempo tutti li suoi rebelli sono excomunicati et 
 la forza de questa censura hora e sentita da cornualiesi li quali 
 sono in questo travalio che ciascuno chi mangia del grano recolto 
 da poi la rebellione et chi beve de la cervosa fatta del recolto de 
 questo anno more como se mangiasse veneno et de questo e j)ublica 
 fama che pare questo Re sia in tutela de dio eterno. 
 
 ' Como scrissi de Anversa loratore cesareo non e venuto et meno 
 lo pontificio solo se li ritrova lo hispano homo al parere mio dasai 
 et dal quale mi pare essere bene visto che forsi ne e stata bona 
 causa Ihonorevolissimo parlare che io feci de quelli Serenissimi 
 Reali in lo primo congresso. Loratore Napolitano se parte che me 
 dispiace asai per che me haveria dato grande lume in ogni cosa et 
 gia Iha fatto de quanto ha potuto. Et per che el passara de qua 
 Vostra Excellentia se potera informare da lui de multe cose et lo 
 recomando a Vostra Illustrissima Signoria. Quam deus ad multos 
 annos felicissimam conservet. 
 
 * Londonii viii Septembris 1497. 
 Excellontie Vestre 
 
 ' Humilimus Servus Raimundus.
 
 408 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 • Illustrissimo ac Excellentissimo Principi et domino meo colen- 
 dissimo domino duci Mediolaiii, etc' 
 
 5. Tytler, Hist. Scotland, ii. 265. 
 
 6. Kaimondo to Sforza, Sep. 8, 1497 ; Tytler, Hist. Scot. ii. 
 264. 
 
 Chap. IV.— 1. Bontius to Max, Nov. 6, 1496 ; Fernando and 
 Isabel to Puebla, Jan. 10, Mar. 28, 1497. 
 
 2. Prihnj Furse Expenses of Elizabeth of York, xxi. xxii. ; Andr6, 
 Vit. Hen. Sep. 65 ; Gilbert, Viceroys of Ireland, 427 ; Annals of the 
 
 Four Masters, 306. 
 
 3. Eot. Pari. vi. 240 ; Annals of the Four Masters, 306 ; Notes 
 relative to the early History of the Town and Port of Hull, by 
 Charles Frost (London, 1827), 31 ; Fast. Eccl. Angl. ii. 445, iii. 
 143; Eymer, Fa?(Zcm, xii. 236, 250. 
 
 4. Patent Polls, Mar. 11, 1486 ; Andr^, Vit. Hen. Sep. 50-2; 
 Les Dome Triomphes de Henry Sept, in Gairdner, Mem. Hen. Sep. 
 139 ; Frost, Notes on Hull, 31. 
 
 5. Napier, Historical Notes of the Parishes of Sicyncomb and 
 Ewelme, 162-9. 
 
 6. Kaimondo to Sforza, Sep. 8, 1497; Halliwell, Letters of 
 the Kings of England, i. 174; Gilbert, Viceroys of Ireland, 462; 
 Brewer and Bullen, Cal. Car. MSS. 472 ; Anstiss, Order of the 
 Garter, ii. 215 ; Kildare, Earls of Kildare, i. 59, 60. 
 
 Chap. V.— 1. Paterit Rolls, June 20, 1497; Brewer and Bullen, 
 Cal. Car. MSS. 472; Trevisano to the Signory, Sep. 17, 1497. 
 
 2. Henry to Puebla, Oct. 23, 1497; Halliwell, Ze^re?-s of the 
 Kings of England, i. 175-9. 
 
 3. Trevisano to the Signory, Sep. 17, 1.497; News from Eng- 
 land, in Sanuto's Diaries, Nov. 6, 29, Dec. 31, 1497; Brewer and 
 Bullen, Cal. Car. MSS. 468. 
 
 4. Raimondo to Sforza, Sep. 8, 1497; Fadera, xii. 672-78 ; 
 Andr6, Vit. Hen. Sept. 72-3 ; Brewer and Bullen, Cal. Car. MSS. 
 469. 
 
 5. Scotch Treasurer's Accounts in (.inhducr'ti Letters atid Papers, 
 App. B. xvi; Trevisano to the Signory, Nov, 29, 1497. 
 
 6. Puebla to Fernando and Itjabcl, June, July 17, 1498 ; 
 Raimondo to Sforza, June 1, 1499.
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 409 
 
 7. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, Jan. 18, 1500 ; Statutes of 
 the Realm, ii. 685 ; Bacon, Woi-ks, vi. 204. 
 
 Chap. VI. — 1. Opus Epist. Pet. Mart. Ep. 176 ; Mariana, ///s^ 
 Esp. ii. 470-558 ; Madoz, Diccionario de Espana, iv. 167. 
 
 2. Santarem, Quadro Elementaj^, ii. 1498; Zurita, Rey Her- 
 nando V. 561. 
 
 3. Faria y Sousa, Eiiropa Portuguesa, ii. 504-7. 
 
 4. Bergenroth, Sup. Sp. Pap. 47-50. 
 
 5. Isabel to Puebla, Aug. 18, 1496 ; Puebla to Fernando and 
 Isabel, June 16, 1500 ; Santarem, Quad. Elem. ii. 1499, 1500; 
 Clemencin, Elogio, vi. 496. 
 
 6. Clemencin, Elogio, vi. lb. 15; Op. Epist. Pet. Mart. Ep. 215, 
 221 ; Giovio, Vit. Mag. Gonsal. 260 ; Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, 
 10-302. 
 
 7. Isabel to Puebla, April 8, May 7, 21, 29, July 5, 1501 , 
 Isabel to Henry, April 8, 1501 ; Almazan to Puebla, May 21, 1501 ; 
 Henry to Cabra and Fonseca, Sep. 25, 1501. 
 
 8. Domengo Pisani to the Doge, Nov. 6, 1500; Arthur to Ca- 
 tharine, Oct. 5, 1499 ; Catharine's ratification at Granada, Dec. 20, 
 1500; Fabyan, Chronicle, 533; Gairdner, Letters and Papers, i. 
 129, 134, 233, 237 ; ii. 377. Catharine's ratification runs : — 
 
 '20 Dec. 1500. 
 * Littere originales scripte in pelle alba, quibus domina Catherina 
 
 princeps Wallie. 
 * Iterum ratificat matrimonium conclusum in capella manerii 
 apud Bewdley per doctorem de la Puebla nomine suo et Arthurum 
 principem Wallie in persona die xix mensis Maii anni mccccxcix, 
 nihilominus pro majore securitate jubet doctorem de 
 iterum facere et concludere omnia et singula spectantia predictum 
 matrimonium. Que fuerunt acta in civitate granate vicesimo die 
 mensis Decembris anno a nativitatc domini millesimo quingentesimo. 
 
 ' La Princesa de Gales. 
 
 ' Et ego Michael Perez D' Almazan.' 
 
 Chap. VII. — 1. The Licentiate Alcarez to Isabel, Oct. 4, 
 1501 ; Gairdner, Letters and Papers, i. 126 ; Fabyan, Chronicle, 
 687. 
 
 2. Isabel to Puebla, Mar. 23, April 8, May 7, 1501 ; Isabel to
 
 410 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 
 
 Henry, April 8, 1501 ; Almazau to Puebla, May 21, 1501 ; Fer- 
 nando and Isabel to Puebla, July 5, 1501 ; Henry to Fonseca and 
 Cabra, Sep. 25, 1501. 
 
 3. Bergenroth, Cal. Span. Pap. i. 294 ; Grose, Antiquarian 
 Repertory, ii. 252 ; Alcarez to Isabel, Oct. 4, 1501. 
 
 4. Isabel to Estrada, Aug. 10, 1502; List of Catharine's house- 
 hold, Oct. 3, 1500. 
 
 5. Grose, Ant. Rep. ii. 252 ; Henry to Fernando and Isabel, 
 Dec. 18, 1500. 
 
 6. Henry to Catharine, Cott. MSS. Gal. B. ii. f. 149; Patent 
 Rolls, 2 Hen. VII. pt. iii. 9. 
 
 7. Fernando and Isabel to Fuensalida, Bergenroth's Cal. 
 Sp. Pap. i. 234 ; Fuensalida to Fernando and Isabel, June 29, 
 1500. 
 
 Chap. VIII. — 1. Puebla to Fernando and Isabel, June 16, 
 Dec. 27, 1500 ; Fernando and Isabel to Fuensalida, Cal. Sp. Pap. 
 i. 234. 
 
 2. Isabel to Puebla, Mar. 23, 1501 ; Grose, Ant. Rep. ii. 25. 
 
 3. Grose, Ant. Rep. ii. 253-4. 
 
 4. Grose, A7it. Rep. ii. 254. 
 
 5. Arthur to Fernando and Isabel, Nov. 30, 1501; Grose, 
 Ant. Rep. ii. 255. 
 
 Chap. IX. — 1. Fabyan, Chronicle, 687; Lelandi Collectanea, x. 
 354-5 ; Grose, Antiq. Rcpert. ii. 256. 
 
 2. Fabyan, Chron. 687; Grose, Ant. Rep. ii. 256. 
 
 3. Portrait of Artliur at Windsor Castle ; Patent Rolls, June 
 12, 1488. 
 
 4. Tanner, Notit. Monast. 534 ; Fast. Eccl Angl. iii. 112; 
 Grose, Antiq. Repert. ii. 256. 
 
 5. Grose, Antiq. Repert. ii. 259 ; Gairdner, Letters and Papers, 
 i. 410. 
 
 6. Patent Rolls, 1 Hen. VII. pt. iii. m. 4, 9, 16 ; Stow, Annals, 
 459; Anstiss, Order of the Garter, ii. 217; Nott, Works of the 
 Earl (f Surrey, Int. v.; Rot. Pari. vi. 410; Collins, Peerage of 
 England, i. 52, 79, 83. 
 
 7. Orriilge, Citizens of London and their Rulers, 181 ; Nicolas, 
 Historic Peerage, 367.
 
 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS. 411 
 
 8. Grose, Antiq. Bepcrt. ii. 256-9 ; Hook, Archbishops of Canter- 
 bury, V. 490-515 ; Williams, Lives of English Cardinals, ii. 190. 
 
 Chap. X. — 1. Grose, Antiquarian Repertory, ii. 257; Old prints 
 in the Gardner Collection; Northouck, iVew History of London, 107. 
 
 2. Grose, Ant. Rep. ii. 319. 
 
 3. The History of St. Paul's Cathedral, by Sir William Dugdale, 
 ed. Henry Ellis (London, 1818), 15, 20, 312; Butler, Lives of 
 Saints, i. 544 ; Lelandi Collectanea, i. 22, 23. 
 
 4. Grose, Ant. Rep. ii. 257. 
 
 5. Fast. Eccl. Angl. ii. 298, iii. 112 ; Dugdale, Hist. Cath. St. 
 PauVs, 112 ; Hook, Arch. Cant. v. 519. 
 
 6. Grose, Ant. Rep. ii. 258 : Fabyan, Chronicle, 533. 
 
 7. Stow, Annals, 482; Hook, Aixhbishops of Canterbury, v. 520; 
 Grose, Ant. Rep. ii. 281-91. 
 
 THE END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 LONDON: 
 Printed by John Stbangeways, Castle St. Leicester Sq.
 
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