PREFACE.
The growing interest of Spanish and Portuguese Literature would, perhaps, be thought a sufficient reason for laying the following translation before the public, were the merits of the original work even less conspicuous, and the deficiency it appears fitted to supply in our language less sensibly felt. It is, indeed, extraordinary, that no similar work has hitherto appeared in a country, where the subject of which this history treats, has, in the instances in which it has been partially explored, always been found a rich source of pleasure and instruction. But the information thus collected from the literary stores of Spain and Portugal, however satisfactory on particular points, is, from its nature, detached and incomplete, and seems calculated to increase rather than to diminish the desire for such a connected and comprehensive view of the whole subject as M. Bouterwek has exhibited in his General History of Modern Literature.
The following volumes on the literature of Spain and Portugal are extracted from a work, entitled, Geschichte der Poesie und Beredsamkeit seit dem Ende der dreizehnten Jahrhunderts, (History of Poetry and Eloquence from the close of the thirteenth Century,) in which M. Bouterwek has taken an historical and critical survey of the literature of the principal nations of Europe. The work consists of twelve volumes, published at different periods at Göttingen; the first volume having appeared in 1805, and the last, which contains an index to the whole, in 1819.[1] The two volumes now translated are the third and fourth of the German original.
If it be admitted that there remains in English literature a vacant place which ought to be occupied by a work of this kind, it is not apprehended that the means now resorted to for filling up the chasm will be disapproved; at least the translator is not aware that any better source could have been found for supplying the deficiency. In vain, she is persuaded, would any substitute be sought for in French, much as that language abounds in works of criticism. Sismondi in his Litterature du Midi de l’Europe, implicitly adopts the judgments passed by Bouterwek on Spanish and Portuguese literature; and indeed with respect to that part of his subject he says very little of importance that is not directly borrowed from the German critic.[2] The Essai sur la Litterature Espagnole, published in Paris in 1810, and which appears to have been well received by the French public, is a gross plagiarism. It is, with some slight additions, merely the translation of an anonymous English work, entitled, Letters from an English Traveller in Spain, the epistolary form being dropped, and the materials transposed for the purpose of concealing the theft.[3] The work of M. Bouterwek belongs, however, to a superior class. To say that M. Bouterwek has treated his subject with great perspicuity and precision, would be to express only a small portion of his merits. Extensive and laborious as his enquiries have evidently been, his judgment in the management of his materials is still more remarkable than the indefatigable research with which they must have been obtained. He has not confined himself to a mere narrative of the progress and an exemplification of the beauties and deformities of the literature of which he is the historian.—The philosophic spirit which pervades his criticism was not to be circumscribed within such narrow bounds. He seeks in the structure of society, the habits of the people, and the influence of events, for the causes of the intellectual phenomena he has to describe; and he examines with great candour and impartiality the effects of mis-government and arbitrary institutions on poetic genius and literary taste. Impressed with this favourable opinion of the work, the translator has endeavoured to give a true representation of its contents. In undertaking the translation, her wish was to preserve the character of the original, as far as possible, under an English dress. She began the task with an anticipation of its difficulty, and she ends it with a consciousness of the indulgence of which her labours stand in need; but at the same time with the hope that she will not be found to have altogether failed in the object she had in view.
The first of the following volumes is devoted to the history of Spanish, and the second to the history of Portuguese Literature. The subdivisions of the work correspond with periods marked out by certain revolutions in taste, produced by the rise of eminent writers, or by other influential circumstances. These epochs in literary cultivation form convenient resting places for the student, and contribute to exhibit in a clear point of view the circumstances by which the advancement of polite learning has been accelerated or retarded. The specimens, which are numerous, and a great portion of which are selected from very scarce works, cannot fail to prove highly acceptable to the lovers of the literature of Spain and Portugal. For a general and comprehensive knowledge of that literature they will be found amply sufficient, and to those who wish to pursue its study more in detail, they will afford most useful assistance. In such a course of study, great advantage may also be derived from the numerous bibliographical notes which the author has introduced, and which are therefore scrupulously retained in the translation.
The translator at first intended to give literal versions of all the specimens extracted from Spanish and Portuguese authors; but had she persisted in this plan, the translation could not have been completed without augmenting the price of the publication much beyond the rate to which the publishers were of opinion it ought to be limited. To have omitted a part of the extracts in order to give translations of the rest would have been still more improper, for the extracts quoted in the notes are all necessary to the illustration of the text; and besides such a mutilation would have deprived the work of a merit which has just been pointed out, namely, that of supplying sufficient materials for a comprehensive study of the literature of Spain and Portugal. The translator has it, however, in contemplation, to prepare for the press a volume containing translations of the specimens given by M. Bouterwek, and of some other pieces from the Spanish and Portuguese languages. This volume will not form a mere appendix to the volumes now published; an endeavour will be made to render it useful and entertaining as a separate work.
It is necessary to observe, that the History of Italian Literature, which is sometimes referred to in the notes, is a part of M. Bouterwek’s General History of Poetry and Eloquence. It forms the two first volumes of the German work; some other parts of which the translator will be prepared to send to the press, should the merits of the original procure from the public a favourable reception for these volumes on Spanish and Portuguese Literature.
Notwithstanding that the translator had considerable assistance in reading and revising the proofs, she regrets to find that still further correction would have been desirable. Fortunately, however, there are few errors in the Spanish and Portuguese extracts; and those which do occur in the English text, will be found to be in general of a literal or obvious nature, altogether incapable of misleading the intelligent reader. Of the mistakes of the press which have been observed, tables of errata are made. If there are others, the translator is confident, that the persons who are the best able to correct such faults, will be the most ready to pardon them.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
VOL. I.
INTRODUCTION.
GENERAL VIEW OF THE ORIGIN OF ROMANTIC POETRY AND ELOQUENCE, IN THE KINGDOMS OF SPAIN AND PORTUGAL.
When modern refinement began, during the thirteenth century, to emerge from the rudeness of the middle ages, that part of Europe which geographers have called the Pyrenean Peninsula, and which, according to its present political division, forms Spain and Portugal, contained four Christian kingdoms and some Mahometan principalities, to which the title of kingdom has also been given. More than five hundred years had elapsed since the battle of Xerez de la Frontera;[4] and the Moors, who, by the result of that conflict, obtained the dominion of the greater part of Spain and Portugal, had, by the repeated victories of the Christians, been, in their turn, driven back to the southern extremity of the country, and were obviously not destined to maintain themselves much longer even in that quarter.
During these five centuries of almost uninterrupted warfare between the race of Moorish Arabs and the Christians of ancient European descent, both parties, notwithstanding that their reciprocal hostility was influenced by fanaticism, had unconsciously approximated in mind and in manners. The intervals of repose, which formed short links in the chain of their sanguinary conflicts, afforded them some opportunities for the interchange of the arts of peace, and they were soon taught to feel for each other that involuntary respect which the brave can never withhold from brave adversaries. Love adventures, in which the Moorish knight and Christian lady, or the Christian knight and Moorish lady, respectively participated, could not be of rare occurrence. The Arab, who, in his native deserts, had not been accustomed to impose on women half the despotic restraints to which the sex is subject in the harems of Mahometan cities, was soon disposed to imitate the gallantry of the descendants of the Goths; and still more readily did the imagination of the Christian knight, in a climate which was far from being ungenial, even to African invaders, acquire an oriental loftiness. Thus arose the spirit of Spanish knighthood, which was, in reality, only a particular form of the general chivalrous spirit then prevailing in most of the countries of Europe, but which, under that form, impressed in an equal degree, on the old European Spaniard an oriental, and on the Spanish Moor a European character.
In the first period of this long contest the Arabs carried learning and the arts to a degree of cultivation far beyond any thing known in the Christian parts of Spain. Those wild enthusiasts learned, on the European soil, to estimate the value of civilized life with a rapidity as astonishing as that which distinguished the social improvement of their brethren, whom they had left behind in Asia, under the government of the Caliphs. Before the era of Mahomet, their language had been cultivated and adapted to poetry and eloquence, according to the laws of oriental taste. In Spain, it soon acquired, even among the conquered Christians, the superiority over the barbarous Romance, or dialect of the country, which was then governed by no rule: for in the eighth century, when the Moors penetrated into Spain, the Visigoths, who had been masters of the territory since the fifth century, were not yet completely intermixed by matrimonial alliances with the Provincials, or descendants of the Roman subjects; and the new national language, which had grown out of a corrupt latin, was still the sport of accident. The conquered Christians, in the provinces under Moorish dominion, soon forgot their Romance. They became, indeed, so habituated to the Arabic, that, according to the testimony of a bishop of Cordova, who lived in the ninth century, out of a thousand Spanish Christians, scarcely one was to be found capable of repeating the latin forms of prayer, while many could express themselves in Arabic with rhetorical elegance, and compose Arabic verses.[5]
But the Christians who had preserved their independence, descending from the mountains of the Asturias, began to repel the invaders, and in proportion as they extended their conquests, a wider field was opened for the Spanish tongue. It remained, nevertheless, long barren and rude, and was destined to receive many additions from the rich and elegant Arabic, before it attained the copiousness requisite for the wants even of common life.
The circumstances, however, under which the dialects of the several provinces existed, did not present those facilities for an improved national language, on the principle of the Italian Volgare illustre, of the age of Dante, which would have enabled a poet of Dante’s genius, had such then arisen in Spain, to form out of them one general literary language for all the Christian states of the Peninsula. It happened, singularly enough, that about the beginning of the thirteenth century, the three principal idioms which were spoken from the coast of the Atlantic to the Pyrenees, and from the Bay of Biscay to the Mediterranean, were represented by three kingdoms perfectly independent of each other. The Castilian prevailed exclusively only in the Castiles and Leon, the latter of which was permanently united to the former in the year 1230. The Portuguese was spoken both by the court and the people of Portugal. In the kingdom of Arragon, the language in general use was the Catalonian, a dialect nearly the same as the Provençal or Limosin of the south of France, but differing greatly both from the Castilian and the Portuguese. This language also extended to the little kingdom of Navarre, but it was there spoken only by the nobles, who were of French or Hispano-Gothic origin. The great body of the population in Navarre spoke the ancient Cantabrian, called Baskian, Vaskian, or Biscayan, and which still exists in the Pyrenees and in the Spanish province of Biscay.
The trouble will be repaid if a glance be now cast on the map, in order to distinguish, with somewhat more precision than is usually thought necessary, the respective domains of the three principal dialects of the Spanish tongue; for it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to form any opinion on the contest maintained between the Spaniards and the Portuguese relative to the value of their respective languages, and the influence which the merits or demerits of these languages have had on the polite literature of both countries, without a knowledge of the geographical boundaries, which, previously to the political divisions, separated the Portuguese from the Castilians, and the latter from the Arragonese. In these questions the Biscayan language is of no consideration, as it has only an accidental and unimportant connexion with the other Spanish dialects, and, besides, bears not the most remote resemblance to them.[6]
The mutilated latin spoken along the Mediterranean on the Spanish shore, from the Pyrenees as far as Murcia, appears to have resolved itself, before the period of the Arabian invasion, into the same language which extended eastward from the Pyrenees through the whole of the south of France to the Italian frontiers, and which, according to the most remarkable of its provincial forms, was called the Catalonian, the Valencian, the Limosin, and the Provençal. Of all the tongues spoken in modern Europe, this language of the coasts was the first cultivated. In it the Troubadours sang, and their lays had all the same character, whether addressed to the Italians, the French, or the Spaniards. From Catalonia it probably spread itself along the chain of the Pyrenees. The kingdom of Arragon became, after the restoration of the Spanish romance in that quarter, its second country; for there both it and the poetry of the Troubadours were particularly favoured by the princes and the nobles. But at the very period of the decline of this poetry, the kingdom of Arragon was united to the Castilian dominions. Another kind of poetry, in the Castilian language, then obtained encouragement, and the seat of the government of the united kingdoms was permanently fixed in Castile. The energetic development of literary talent among the Castilians, the bold romantic character of that people, and that ardent spirit of national pride which prompted them to make the most of all their advantages, soon banished the ancient and in other respects highly esteemed dialect of Arragon, Catalonia, Valencia, and Murcia, from literature, law, and the conversation of the superior classes of society. Finally, towards the middle of the sixteenth century the Castilian became, in the strictest sense of the word, the reigning language of the whole Spanish monarchy.[7]
The Castilian tongue (Lengua Castellana), now called, by way of distinction, the Spanish, doubtless had its origin before the Moorish conquest, in the northern and midland parts of the Peninsula. How far it had originally spread towards the south, it would not now be easy to determine; but it came down from the Asturian mountains with the warriors who boldly undertook to recover the country of their fathers. It first resumed its sway in the kingdoms of Leon and old Castile, where it is still spoken in the greatest purity.[8] It then followed step by step, the fortune of the Castilian arms, until it finally became the established language of the most southern provinces, where its progress had been longest withstood by the Arabic. More recently cultivated than the Catalonian, it cannot be doubted that it owes to that dialect a part of its improvement; but the elevated expression of its long full-toned words, soon stamped on it the character of quite a different kind of romance. The abbreviation of the latin words which gave the Catalonian language a striking resemblance to the French, was not agreeable to the genius of the Castilian, which, in consequence of its clear sonorous vowels and the beautiful articulation of its syllables, had, of all the idioms of the Peninsula, the greatest affinity to the Italian. Amidst the euphony of the Castilian syllables, the ear is however struck with the sound of the German and Arabic guttural, which is rejected by all the other nations that speak languages in which the latin predominates.[9]
The romance, out of which the present Portuguese language has grown, was probably spoken along the coast of the Atlantic long before a kingdom of Portugal was founded. Though far more nearly allied to the Castilian dialect than to the Catalonian, it resembles the latter in the remarkable abbreviation of words, both in the grammatical structure and in the pronunciation. At the same time it is strikingly distinguished from the Castilian by the total rejection of the guttural, by the great abundance of its hissing sounds, and by a nasal pronunciation common to no people in Europe except the French and the Portuguese. In the Spanish province of Galicia, only politically separated from Portugal, this dialect known under the name of Lingoa Gallega is still as indigenous as in Portugal itself, and was at an early period, so highly esteemed, that Alphonso X. king of Castile, surnamed the Wise, (El Sabio,) composed verses in it. But the Galician modification of this dialect of the western shores of the Peninsula has sunk, like the Catalonian romance of the opposite coast, into a mere provincial idiom, in consequence of the language of the Castilian court being adopted by the higher classes in Galicia.[10] Indeed the Portuguese language, which in its present state of improvement must no longer be confounded with the popular idiom of Galicia, would have experienced great difficulty in obtaining a literary cultivation, had not Portugal, which, even in the twelfth century, formed an independent kingdom, constantly vied in arts and in arms with Castile, and during the sixty years of her union with Spain, from 1580 to 1640, zealously maintained her particular national character.[11]
After accurately distinguishing these three principal idioms of the Romance, which formed the early spoken and written language of the Peninsula,[12] it will be more readily perceived why the Catalonian and Limosin poetry could not maintain itself in competition with the Spanish and Portuguese, which were of more recent growth, and why the poetry of Spain and that of Portugal have, from their first rise, preserved nearly the same character and passed through the same periods of splendour and decay. The Catalonian poetry was, from its origin, inseparably united with the language of the Troubadours, throughout its territories, from the Italian to the Castilian frontiers. While the Cours d’Amour, the festal meetings, and various other gallant exhibitions prevailed, in which the Gaya Ciencia, or Joyous Art, of these bards of love and chivalry flourished, and in which the bards themselves bore a brilliant part as masters of the ceremonies, the language and the poetry gave reciprocal importance to each other. When, however, the romantic spirit had exhausted itself in these modes, when another sort of gallantry came into vogue, and finally, when a more cultivated style of poetry, entirely new to Spain, was introduced from Italy, and propagated with the Castilian language, the poets of Catalonia, Arragon, and Valencia began to write verses in the new manner, and to disown their mother tongue in their compositions. This literary phenomenon, which has its epoch only in the sixteenth century, cannot be attributed to political dependence alone; for hitherto the ancient national poetry of the Castilians had continued foreign to the inhabitants of the Arragonian provinces, individual imitators excepted, even after these provinces were united with the Castiles. But when the Arragonese, in their zeal to vie with the Castilians in the reform of their ancient poetry, began to write verses in the Castilian language, their success was facilitated by the relationship which had long subsisted between the old Provençal poetry, the sister of the Limosin, and the Italian, which in the sixteenth century became the model of the Spanish and Portuguese.[13]
The ancient Castilian poetry was as closely allied to the Portuguese and the Galician, as it was distinctly separated from the Limosin. The Troubadours had, it is true, chaunted their lays at the courts of Castile and Portugal, but the national taste in both kingdoms preferred different accents, other metrical combinations, and was accustomed to quite another kind of poetry of its own creation. No Troubadours were needed in these countries; for the common national poetry, which was unknown to the Arragonian provinces, formed a connecting tie for the Castilians, Portuguese, and Galicians, as it was the faithful mirror of their genius and character. However much the Castilians might dislike the Portuguese tongue, and the Portuguese, in their turn, the Castilian, their poetry continued essentially the same; and the languages of both countries deviated, at all times, far more from the Limosin romance, than ever they differed from each other. Besides, the old Galician idiom, which was scarcely distinguishable from the old Portuguese,[14] was originally a favourite with the Castilians; and when it ceased to be a literary language, the political conflicts of the Spaniards and the Portuguese did not destroy the poetical harmony of the two nations. The Castilians, indeed, constantly maintained the opinion, that the Portuguese language was incapable of giving appropriate expression to heroic sentiments; but the Portuguese contradicted this assertion, not merely by words, but by deeds.[15]
The old Castilian, Portuguese, and Galician poetry was, under its own peculiar forms, still more popular and strictly national than was the Provençal, or than the Italian after it has ever been. It was not destined to be recited in courtly circles, before lords and ladies. It arose amidst the clang of arms, and was fostered by constantly reiterated relations of warlike feats and love adventures, transmitted from mouth to mouth; while almost every one who either witnessed or participated in those feats and adventures, wished to give them traditional circulation in the vehicle of easy verse. So common was the practice among all ranks of composing verses, particularly in Portugal, that the historian, Manuel de Faria y Sousa, thought himself, at a later period, justified in calling every mountain in that country a Parnassus, and every fountain a Hippocrene.[16] The poems called Romances took their name from the national language; and it is probable that the same name was at first given to all kinds of amatory and heroic ballads, the taste for which, however rapidly those productions increased and supplanted each other, appears to have been insatiable. To mark with critical precision the limits of the different species of poetic composition, was never contemplated by the authors of the Romances, but they very carefully distinguished, in their national verse, several kinds of measure and forms of rhyme, which differed widely from the Provençal and Limosin; and having touched on this subject, it will, perhaps, be most convenient here to introduce a brief description of the nature of the verse common to the ancient Castilian, Portuguese, and Galician poetry.
Of the metrical compositions common to the ancient Castilians and Portuguese, the most peculiarly national were the REDONDILLAS. All verses, consisting of four trochaic feet, appear to have been originally comprehended under the name of redondillas,[17] which, however, came at length to be, in preference, usually applied to one particular species of this description of verse. To a people so romantic and chivalrous, and at the same time so fond of their national poetry, as the Spaniards and Portuguese, nothing could be more agreeable than verses of this sort, which, in languages such as theirs, could be composed on the spur of the occasion, and which to the charm of simplicity add the beauty of a sonorous harmony.[18] It is difficult to suppose that the redondillas have been formed in imitation of bisected hexameters, as some Spanish authors have imagined.[19] They may, with more probability, be considered a relic of the songs of the Roman soldiers, which were doubtless often heard in these countries, and which must have left recollections, the impressions of which would be easily communicated by the romanized natives to their conquerors, the Visigoths.[20] In such verses, every individual could, without restraint, pour forth the feelings which love and gallantry dictated, accompanied by his guitar; as little attention was paid to correctness in the distinction of long and short syllables as in the rhyme. When one of the poetic narratives, distinguished by the name of Romances, was sung, line followed line without constraint, the expression flowing with careless freedom, as feeling gave it birth. When, however, romantic sentiments were to be clothed in a popular lyric dress, to exhibit the playful turns of the ideas under still more pleasing forms, it was found advantageous to introduce divisions and periods, which gave rise to regular strophes (estancias and coplas). Lines were, for the sake of variety, shortened by halving them; and thus the tender and impressive melody of the rhythm was sometimes considerably heightened. Seduced by the example of the Arabs, something excellent was supposed to be accomplished when a single sonorous and unvarying rhyme was rendered prominent throughout all the verses of a long romance.[21] Through other romances, however, pairs of rhymeless verses were allowed to glide amidst a variety of rhymed ones. At length, at a later period, it was observed, that in point of elegance, the redondilla was improved, rather than injured by the change which was produced; when, instead of perfect rhymes, imperfect ones, or sounds echoing vowels but not consonants, were heard in the terminating syllables. Hence arose the distinction between consonant and assonant verses, which has been cultivated into a rhythmical beauty unknown to other nations.[22] Thus varied, and yet ever simple, the redondilla has been still more valuable to Spanish and Portuguese versification, than the hexameter was to the poetry of Greece and Rome. It has even become the prevailing measure of dramatic poetry.
The period of the invention of the redondillas was also nearly that of the dactylic stanzas, called versos de arte mayor, because their composition was considered an art of a superior order. They had their origin, according to some authorities, in Galicia and Portugal.[23] This metrical form is, however, found in several of the most ancient Castilian poems. As the inventors of these stanzas were ignorant of the true principles of prosody, the attention paid to purity in the rhythm of the dactyles was even less than in the rhymes of the redondillas. They contented themselves with dealing out eleven or twelve syllables, and left the dactylic measure to accident. This may account for these verses falling into disuse, as the progressive improvement of taste, which allowed the redondillas to maintain their original consideration, was not reconcilable with the half dancing, half hobbling rhymed lines of the versos de arte mayor.[24]
Besides the above national modes of rhythm and rhyme, common to Castilians, Galicians, and Portuguese, the form of the sonnet was also known in the west of Spain and Portugal long before the imitation of Italian poetry was thought of in those parts of the Peninsula. It had doubtless been acquired through the intervention of Provençal and Limosin poets. But the character of the sonnet was not sufficiently popular for the old Spaniards and Portuguese, and they were never fond of that kind of poetic composition. Not less adverse to the taste of the country was the long protracted alexandrine. Monkish rhymesters, who forced their imitations of latin doggrels on the nation, introduced this kind of verse into the Spanish language, in the thirteenth or perhaps even in the twelfth century, but certainly at a period anterior to its appearance in any other modern tongue. It soon, however, sunk into disesteem, and was neglected.
Thus, during the progress of their civilization, the Spaniards and the Portuguese co-operated in cultivating the same spirit and form of poetry. What is, notwithstanding, dissimilar in the polite literature of the two countries, and what is peculiar to each, will, with other subjects, become matter for consideration in the following sheets.