reader to expect some profound investigation. Juan de la Enzina observes, “that poetry is so excellent an art, that it merits the particular favour of princes and nobles”, who being reared “in the bosom of sweet philosophy,”145 know how to unite the virtues both of peace and war; it was therefore, he continues, his intention to write a theory (arte) of Castilian poetry, which might facilitate the distinction between good and bad. He treats of the origin of poetry among the ancients and among the Italians, and marks the difference between a poet and a Troubadour. The former, he says, is, with respect to the latter, “what a composer or learned musician is to a singer or musical performer, a geometrician to a mason, or a captain to a private soldier.”146 After all these high promises, Juan de la Enzina merely gives an Essay on Castilian prosody in a few chapters. Such is his art of poetry.
Thus did Castilian poetry and eloquence develope itself in the ancient national forms, during the first centuries that succeeded its birth, without any superior genius having either raised it to higher perfection, or enlarged its boundaries. Like the Gaya Ciencia of the Troubadours, it was a common property, protected by a literary democracy, which allowed no despotic genius to encroach upon its rights. It is difficult to imagine what might have been the fate of Castilian poetry, had not a new political connection formed between Spain and Italy, at the commencement of the sixteenth century, suddenly brought the Spanish nation, as it were in mass, in contact with the Italians. At all events, the Spaniards must, in the progress of cultivation, have ceased to be satisfied with the poetry of their old songs and romances, on their literary taste becoming in any way more refined.
BOOK II.
FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE SIXTEENTH TO THE LATTER HALF OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
INTRODUCTION.
GENERAL VIEW OF THE STATE OF POETICAL AND RHETORICAL CULTIVATION IN SPAIN DURING THE ABOVE PERIOD.
The union of the kingdoms of Castile and Arragon, in consequence of the marriage of Isabella, the heiress of the Castilian throne, with Ferdinand king of Arragon, forms an epoch in Spanish literature, as well as in Spanish power. Hitherto Spain had been occupied only with her own internal affairs. The monarchs contended for their prerogatives with the powerful barons of their respective states; and the two kingdoms waged war against each other. The only object which they pursued in common, was the overthrow of the Moorish principality of Granada, which was enabled to resist them, as long as their political jealousy of each other counter-balanced their mutual zeal for religion and conquest. Spain, in her detached situation to the west of the Pyrenees, never appeared so completely separated from the rest of Europe as in the middle of the fifteenth century. With Italy, Spain maintained no relations, except such as were purely ecclesiastical. A marked change, however, took place on the union of the crowns of Castile and Arragon, though the union of the two monarchies was not properly consolidated until after Ferdinand’s death, which happened in 1516. Since the year 1492, Granada had been a Castilian province. The poets had no longer the feats of the Zegris and Abencerrages to record; and the Spanish knights had no infidels to vanquish, unless they travelled to Africa in quest of them. If, however, they were successful in that quarter of the world, their victories did not present subjects of such interest to the Castilian muse as former achievements had afforded. The love of industry and social order, which distinguished the people of Arragon, at length extended to Castile; and the old chivalrous spirit declined in proportion as the use of gunpowder, which was at this period rapidly increasing, became more general. The manners of the Spaniards of both monarchies, had now approximated to those of the Italians; and the analogy between the Castilian and Italian languages, could not fail to be remarked, whenever opportunities for making that observation occurred. Ferdinand soon afforded such an opportunity; his ambition induced him to take an active part in the transactions of Italy, and his interference was attended with success. The victorious Gonsalvo Fernandez de Cordova, admired as the conqueror of Granada, and a second Cid, and surnamed, by way of distinction, El gran Capitan, presented the crown of Naples to his sovereign in the year 1504. The political union which then took place between Spain and Italy, and which continued longer than a century, paved the way for that influence of the Italian poetry on the Spanish, which soon after became manifest.
About the same period that Ferdinand and Isabella united their dominions, they also co-operated in the establishment of that terrible tribunal which soon became known throughout Europe by the name of the Spanish Inquisition, and which to the disgrace of human reason exercised during two centuries and a half its monstrous powers in their fullest extent. A crafty policy contrived to render religion its instrument, in subjugating to one common tyranny the reason and the rights of mankind; for the establishment of regal despotism in both kingdoms was the great object of this institution, and its whole organization corresponded with the end for which it was destined. The pope, who penetrated the design of the founders, viewed their proceedings with much dissatisfaction; but even the pope was obliged to support the pretended interest of the church, and to honour Ferdinand by bestowing on him, as a peculiar distinction, the title of “Catholic King.” Thus the court of Rome contributed to annul the privileges of the Cortes of Castile and Arragon, and to invest the whole powers of government, without limitation, in the hands of an absolute monarch: and thus did political artifice triumph over the energy of one of the noblest nations in the world, at the very moment when the genius of that nation had begun to expand, when the promising flower had burst forth from the bud, and was about to unfold itself in full vigour and beauty. A simultaneous and concordant cultivation of the different powers of the human mind was now as little to be hoped for in Spain as the improvement of her political constitution. Under these circumstances the literary genius of the country could not be expected to reach that high maturity of taste which always presupposes a certain degree of harmony in the moral and intellectual faculties. Poetic freedom was circumscribed by the same shackles which fettered moral liberty. Thoughts which could not be expressed without fear of the dungeon and the stake, were no longer materials for the poet to work on. His imagination instead of improving them into poetic ideas, and embodying them in beautiful verse, had to be taught to reject them. But the eloquence of prose was more completely bowed down under the inquisitorial yoke than poetry, because it was more closely allied to truth, which, of all things, was the most dreaded.
The yoke of this odious tribunal weighed, however, far less heavily on the imagination than on the other faculties of the mind; and it must be confessed that a wide field still remained open for the range of fancy, though the boundaries of religious doctrine were not permitted to be overstepped. To suppose that the Spanish inquisition could have entirely annihilated the poetic genius of the nation, it must also be supposed, that at the period of its establishment, there had existed a style of poetry altogether hostile to such an institution, and that the spirit of the inquisition was directly opposed to the spirit of the nation. But it would be forming a false notion of the horrors of the inquisition, to imagine that they were ever felt in Spain in the same manner as in other countries, and particularly in the Netherlands, where that tribunal was introduced hand in hand with foreign despotism. When the inquisition was established in Spain, it harmonized to all appearance, that is to say, as far as orthodox faith was concerned, with the prevailing opinions of the Spanish Christians. It was ostensibly directed not so much against heretics as against infidels, namely, Mahometans and Jews. Its operations were accordingly commenced by waging war against those infidels, for no sect of Christian heretics existed at that period in Spain, and the inquisition took care that none should be afterwards formed. To maintain the purity of the ancient faith was the avowed object of the inquisition; and its wrath was poured out on the unfortunate Jews, Moors, and Moriscos, (the descendants of the Moors), with the view of removing every blemish from the faith of a nation, which prided itself in its orthodoxy. This bigotted pride was a consequence of the contest maintained in Spain during four centuries and a half, between Catholic