by whom he was generally admired, as the “representative of the honour of poetry.”
Among the literary remains of the Marquis of Santillana, the critical and historical letter is particularly remarkable. This letter, which is frequently mentioned in the early accounts of Spanish poetry,84 is instructive in various respects. It affords the means of accurately observing the infancy of Spanish criticism in that age, for the Marquis has added to the letter a collection of his ingenious maxims, (decires,) and of his poems for Don Pedro, a Portuguese prince; and from the embarrassment evinced by the Marquis when he attempts to give the prince an account of the rise of Castilian poetry, it is obvious, that with respect to the real origin of that poetry, less was understood at that time than is known at the present day. Poetry, or the gay science, is, according to the Marquis of Santillana, “an invention of useful things, which being enveloped in a beautiful veil, are arranged, exposed, and concealed according to a certain calculation, measurement, and weight.”85 Thus, allegory appeared to him to belong to the essence of poetry. He could scarcely have imbibed this opinion from Dante. In Spain, as well as in Italy and France, it seems to have issued forth from the monkish cells, when endeavours were made to unite poetry with philosophy, and to make the poetic art the symbol of knowledge, in order to ensure to it estimation among the learned. The allegorical spirit which pervades the half gothic poetry of that period, is therefore inseparably connected with the characteristic origin of modern poetry. The Marquis of Santillana would have come to a totally different conclusion, had he taken an unprejudiced view of the genuine national poetry of his country. But he imagined he was laying down a principle which would ennoble it, when, according to his theory, he held allegory to be indispensable. Without scruple, therefore, he confounded the Castilian and Limosin poetry together in one mass. Respecting the origin of the former, he entered into no investigation. He commences the history of poetry with Moses, Joshua, David, Solomon, and Job,86 gives a copious account of the changes which the art of the Troubadours had undergone in the Arragonian provinces, and adds a notice of some of the earliest Galician and Portuguese poets: among the Castilian poets, he mentions king Alphonso and some others, without saying a syllable on the subject of the ancient romances.
JUAN DE MENA.
Juan de Mena, who is by some writers, styled the Spanish Ennius, ranks, as a poet, in a somewhat higher scale than the Marquis of Santillana, though he was less favoured by fortune, and was not distinguished by so many various merits as the latter. He was born in Cordova, about the year 1412. In this southern district of Spain, which but a short time before had been recovered from the Moors, the Castilian genius was doubtless very rapidly naturalized. Juan de Mena, though not descended from a family of rank,87 was not of mean origin, and at the early age of three-and-twenty he was invested with a civil appointment in his native city. His own inclination, however, prompted him to devote himself to philosophy, and particularly to the study of ancient literature and history. From Cordova he went to the University of Salamanca. But in order more nearly to approach the source of ancient literature, he undertook a journey to Rome, where he zealously prosecuted his studies. Enriched with knowledge, he returned to his native country, and immediately attracted the notice of the Marquis of Santillana, and shortly after of king John. Both received him into their literary circles with distinguished approbation. The Marquis of Santillana attached himself with more friendship to Juan de Mena than to any other poet who enjoyed the favour of the king, although their political opinions did not always coincide. The king nominated him one of the historiographers, who, according to the arrangement which had subsisted since the time of Alphonso X. were appointed to continue the national chronicles. Juan de Mena lived in high favour at the court of John II. and was a constant adherent of the king. He died in 1456, at Guadalaxara, in New Castile, being then about forty-five years of age. The Marquis of Santillana erected a monument to his memory.
From the history of Juan de Mena’s life, it might be expected that his endeavours to extend the boundaries of Castilian poetry would be made under the influence of Italian taste, more or less of which he may be presumed to have adopted, and on his return introduced into his native country. But no Italian poet, save Dante, appears to have produced any remarkable impression on him. Indeed, with the exception of Dante and Petrarch, there was, at that period, no Italian poet of classic consideration; and in the first half of the fifteenth century Italian poetry suddenly declined. Sonnets were still in favour throughout the whole of Italy, but Juan de Mena continued faithful to the old forms of the Castilian poetry, perhaps from a feeling of national pride. He certainly did not imitate the sonnet; and even from Dante himself, he copied neither metrical form nor style. In allegory alone he followed the footsteps of the Italian poet. His most celebrated poem is, the Labyrinth, (el Labyrintho) or, the Three Hundred Stanzas (las trecientas,) an allegorical historical didactic work, in old dactylic verse (versos de arte mayor.88) Had the Labyrinth proved what, according to the idea of the author, it was intended to be, it would have been proper, merely on account of that single work, to commence a new epoch of Spanish poetry with the reign of John II. But with all its merits, which have been highly extolled by some authors, and which are certainly by no means trivial, it can only be regarded as a mere specimen of gothic art.89 It belongs to the period which gave it birth, and bears no traces of the superiority of a genius which might have ruled the spirit of the age. Juan de Mena formed the grand design of executing in this work an allegorical picture of the whole course of human life. His intention was, to embrace every age, to immortalize great virtues, to stigmatize with opprobrium great vices, and to represent in striking colours the irresistible power of destiny.90 But the poetical invention of Juan de Mena was subordinate to his false learning. The three hundred stanzas, of which the poem consists, are divided into seven orders, (ordenes), in imitation of the seven planets, the influence of which, according to Juan de Mena’s doctrine, is wisely prescribed by Providence. To represent this influence figuratively, Mena resorted to a most insipid and grotesque invention. After invoking Apollo and Calliope, and earnestly apostrophising Fortune,91 he loses himself in imitation of Dante in an allegorical world, where a female of astonishing beauty appears to him, and becomes his guide. This female is Providence:92 she conducts him to three wheels, two of which are motionless, while the third is in a state of continual movement. These wheels, it will readily be conjectured, represent the past, the present, and the future. Human beings drop down through this mill of time. The centre wheel turns them round. Each has his name and destiny inscribed on his forehead. While the wheel of the present is revolving with all the existing human race, it is controlled astrologically in its motion by the seven orders or circles of the seven planets under the influence of which men are born. Whether or not these circles are perceptible on the wheel itself, is not clearly stated. To this description succeeds, in the order of the seven planets, a long gallery of mythological and historical pictures, which presents abundant fruits of the poet’s extensive reading. This grotesque composition is interspersed with individual passages of great interest and beauty, though none of the traits call to mind similar traits in Dante. The most glowing passages of the lyric, didactic, and narrative class, are those in which Juan de Mena gives utterance to the language of Spanish patriotism.93 He is particularly successful in the description of the death of the Count de Niebla, a Spanish naval hero, who attempted to recover Gibraltar from the Moors; but through ignorance of the return of the tide, fell a sacrifice to the waves, because he preferred perishing with his men, to saving himself singly.94 But particular attention is bestowed on Don Alvaro de Luna,95 the favourite of the king, who is introduced in this poem with great pomp, under the constellation of Saturn. When Juan de Mena wrote this poem, and thus proclaimed the glory of de Luna, the latter had not yet fallen, and the energy of his character seemed to promise, as the poet prophesied, that he would ultimately triumph over all the Castilian nobles who had excited the hostility of the country against him. King John, as may naturally be supposed, is in Juan de Mena’s Labyrinth complimented on every suitable occasion. A genealogy of the kings of Spain forms the conclusion of the poem; and thus were the Spaniards made to feel a kind of national interest for the whole work, which in some measure subsists, at least among their writers at the present day. Even in Juan de Mena’s time, the learned solecisms with which he endeavoured to elevate his poetic language were uncommon;96 but other essential faults, such, for instance,