The History of the Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella the Catholic — Volume 2

by William Hickling Prescott

CHAPTER V.

DEATH OF CARDINAL MENDOZA.—RISE OF XIMENES.—ECCLESIASTICAL REFORM.

Death of Mendoza.—His Early Life and Character.—The Queen his Executor.
—Origin of Ximenes.—He Enters the Franciscan Order.—His Ascetic Life.—
Confessor to the Queen.—Made Archbishop of Toledo.—Austerity of his
Life.—Reform of the Monastic Orders.—Insults Offered to the Queen.—She
Consents to the Reform.

In the beginning of 1495, the sovereigns lost their old and faithful minister, the grand cardinal of Spain, Don Pedro Gonzalez de Mendoza. He was the fourth son of the celebrated marquis of Santillana, and was placed by his talents at the head of a family, every member of which must be allowed to have exhibited a rare union of public and private virtue. The cardinal reached the age of sixty-six, when his days were terminated after a long and painful illness, on the 11th of January, at his palace of Guadalaxara. [1]

In the unhappy feuds between Henry the Fourth and his younger brother Alfonso, the cardinal had remained faithful to the former. But on the death of that monarch, he threw his whole weight, with that of his powerful family, into the scale of Isabella, whether influenced by a conviction of her superior claims, or her capacity for government. This was a most important acquisition to the royal cause; and Mendoza's consummate talents for business, recommended by the most agreeable address, secured him the confidence of both Ferdinand and Isabella, who had long been disgusted with the rash and arrogant bearing of their old minister, Carillo.

On the death of that turbulent prelate, Mendoza succeeded to the archiepiscopal see of Toledo. His new situation naturally led to still more intimate relations with the sovereigns, who uniformly deferred to his experience, consulting him on all important matters, not merely of a public, but of a private nature. In short, he gained such ascendency in the cabinet, during a long ministry of more than twenty years, that he was pleasantly called by the courtiers the "third king of Spain." [2]

The minister did not abuse the confidence so generously reposed in him. He called the attention of his royal mistress to objects most deserving it. His views were naturally grand and lofty; and, if he sometimes yielded to the fanatical impulse of the age, he never failed to support her heartily in every generous enterprise for the advancement of her people. When raised to the rank of primate of Spain, he indulged his natural inclination for pomp and magnificence. He filled his palace with pages, selected from the noblest families in the kingdom, whom he carefully educated. He maintained a numerous body of armed retainers, which, far from being a mere empty pageant, formed a most effective corps for public service on all requisite occasions. He dispensed the immense revenues of his bishopric with the same munificent hand which has so frequently distinguished the Spanish prelacy, encouraging learned men, and endowing public institutions. The most remarkable of these were the college of Santa Cruz at Valladolid, and the hospital of the same name for foundlings at Toledo, the erection of which, completed at his sole charge, consumed more than ten years each. [3]

The cardinal, in his younger days, was occasionally seduced by those amorous propensities, in which the Spanish clergy freely indulged, contaminated, perhaps, by the example of their Mahometan neighbors. He left several children by his amours with two ladies of rank, from whom some of the best houses in the kingdom are descended. [4] A characteristic anecdote is recorded of him in relation to this matter. An ecclesiastic, who one day delivered a discourse in his presence, took occasion to advert to the laxity of the age, in general terms, indeed, but bearing too pertinent an application to the cardinal to be mistaken. The attendants of the latter boiled with indignation at the preacher's freedom, whom they determined to chastise for his presumption. They prudently, however, postponed this until they should see what effect the discourse had on their master. The cardinal, far from betraying any resentment, took no other notice of the preacher than to send him a dish of choice game, which had been served up at his own table, where he was entertaining a party of friends that day, accompanying it at the same time, by way of sauce, with a substantial donative of gold doblas; an act of Christian charity not at all to the taste of his own servants. It wrought its effects on the worthy divine, who at once saw the error of his ways, and, the next time he mounted the pulpit, took care to frame his discourse in such a manner as to counteract the former unfavorable impressions, to the entire satisfaction, if not edification, of his audience. "Now-a-days," says the honest biographer who reports the incident, himself a lineal descendant of the cardinal, "the preacher would not have escaped so easily. And with good reason; for the holy Gospel should be discreetly preached, 'cum grano salis,' that is to say, with the decorum and deference due to majesty and men of high estate." [5]

When Cardinal Mendoza's illness assumed an alarming aspect, the court removed to the neighborhood of Guadalaxara, where he was confined. The king and queen, especially the latter, with the affectionate concern which she manifested for more than one of her faithful subjects, used to visit him in person, testifying her sympathy for his sufferings, and benefiting by the lights of the sagacious mind, which had so long helped to guide her. She still further showed her regard for her old minister by condescending to accept the office of his executor, which she punctually discharged, superintending the disposition of his effects according to his testament, [6] and particularly the erection of the stately hospital of Santa Cruz, before mentioned, not a stone of which was laid before his death. [7]

In one of her interviews with the dying minister, the queen requested his advice respecting the nomination of his successor. The cardinal, in reply, earnestly cautioned her against raising any one of the principal nobility to this dignity, almost too exalted for any subject, and which, when combined with powerful family connections, would enable a man of factious disposition to defy the royal authority itself, as they had once bitter experience in the case of Archbishop Carillo. On being pressed to name the individual whom he thought best qualified, in every point of view, for the office, he is said to have recommended Fray Francisco Ximenez de Cisneros, a friar of the Franciscan order, and confessor of the queen. As this extraordinary personage exercised a more important control over the destinies of his country than any other subject, during the remainder of the present reign, it will be necessary to put the reader in possession of his history. [8]

Ximenez de Cisneros, or Ximenes, as he is usually called, was born at the little town of Tordelaguna, in the year 1436, [9] of an ancient but decayed family. [10] He was early destined by his parents for the church, and, after studying grammar at Alcalá, was removed at fourteen to the university of Salamanca. Here he went through the regular course of instruction then pursued, devoting himself assiduously to the civil and canon law, and at the end of six years received the degree of bachelor in each of them, a circumstance at that time of rare occurrence. [11]

Three years after quitting the university, the young bachelor removed by the advice of his parents to Rome, as affording a better field for ecclesiastical preferment than he could find at home. Here he seems to have attracted some notice by the diligence with which he devoted himself to his professional studies and employments. But still he was far from reaping the golden fruits presaged by his kindred; and at the expiration of six years he was suddenly recalled to his native country by the death of his father, who left his affairs in so embarrassed a condition, as to require his immediate presence. [12]

Before his return, Ximenes obtained a papal bull, or expectative, preferring him to the first benefice of a specified value, which should become vacant in the see of Toledo. Several years elapsed before such a vacancy offered itself by the death of the archpriest of Uzeda; and Ximenes took possession of that living by virtue of the apostolic grant.

This assumption of the papal court to dispose of the church livings at its own pleasure, had been long regarded by the Spaniards as a flagrant imposition; and Carillo, the archbishop of Toledo, in whose diocese the vacancy occurred, was not likely tamely to submit to it. He had, moreover, promised this very place to one of his own followers. He determined, accordingly, to compel Ximenes to surrender his pretensions in favor of the latter, and, finding argument ineffectual, resorted to force, confining him in the fortress of Uzeda, whence he was subsequently removed to the strong tower of Santorcaz, then used as a prison for contumacious ecclesiastics. But Carillo understood little of the temper of Ximenes, which was too inflexible to be broken by persecution. The archbishop in time became convinced of this, and was persuaded to release him, but not till after an imprisonment of more than six years. [13]

Ximenes, thus restored to freedom, and placed in undisturbed possession of his benefice, was desirous of withdrawing from the jurisdiction of his vindictive superior; and not long after effected an exchange for the chaplainship of Siguenza. In this new situation he devoted himself with renewed ardor to his theological studies, occupying himself diligently, moreover, with Hebrew and Chaldee, his knowledge of which proved of no little use in the concoction of his famous Polyglot.

Mendoza was at that time bishop of Siguenza. It was impossible that a man of his penetration should come in contact with a character like that of Ximenes, without discerning its extraordinary qualities. It was not long before he appointed him his vicar, with the administration of his diocese; in which situation he displayed such capacity for business, that the count of Cifuentes, on falling into the hands of the Moors, after the unfortunate affair of the Axarquia, confided to him the sole management of his vast estates during his captivity. [14]

But these secular concerns grew more and more distasteful to Ximenes, whose naturally austere and contemplative disposition had been deepened, probably, by the melancholy incidents of his life, into stern religious enthusiasm. He determined, therefore, to break at once from the shackles which bound him to the world, and seek an asylum in some religious establishment, where he might devote himself unreservedly to the service of Heaven. He selected for this purpose the Observantines of the Franciscan order, the most rigid of the monastic societies. He resigned his various employments and benefices, with annual rents to the amount of two thousand ducats, and, in defiance of the arguments and entreaties of his friends, entered on his novitiate in the convent of San Juan de los Reyes, at Toledo; a superb pile then erecting by the Spanish sovereigns, in pursuance of a vow made during the war of Granada. [15]

He distinguished his novitiate by practising every ingenious variety of mortification with which superstition has contrived to swell the inevitable catalogue of human sufferings. He slept on the ground, or on the hard floor, with a billet of wood for his pillow. He wore hair-cloth next his skin; and exercised himself with fasts, vigils, and stripes, to a degree scarcely surpassed by the fanatical founder of his order. At the end of the year, he regularly professed, adopting then for the first time the name of Francisco, in compliment to his patron saint, instead of that of Gonzalo, by which he had been baptized.

No sooner had this taken place, than his reputation for sanctity, which his late course of life had diffused far and wide, attracted multitudes of all ages and conditions to his confessional; and he soon found himself absorbed in the same vortex of worldly passions and interests, from which he had been so anxious to escape. At his solicitation, therefore, he was permitted to transfer his abode to the convent of our Lady of Castañar, so called from a deep forest of chestnuts, in which it was embosomed. In the midst of these dark mountain solitudes, he built with his own hands a little hermitage or cabin, of dimensions barely sufficient to admit his entrance. Here he passed his days and nights in prayer, and in meditations on the sacred volume, sustaining life, like the ancient anchorites, on the green herbs and running waters. In this state of self-mortification, with a frame wasted by abstinence, and a mind exalted by spiritual contemplation, it is no wonder that he should have indulged in ecstasies and visions, until he fancied himself raised into communication with celestial intelligences. It is more wonderful that his understanding was not permanently impaired by these distempered fancies. This period of his life, however, seems to have been always regarded by him with peculiar satisfaction; for long after, as his biographer assures us, when reposing in lordly palaces, and surrounded by all the appliances of luxury, he looked back with fond regret on the hours which glided so peacefully in the hermitage of Castañar. [16]

Fortunately, his superiors, choosing to change his place of residence according to custom, transferred him at the end of three years to the convent of Salzeda. Here he practised, indeed, similar austerities, but it was not long before his high reputation raised him to the post of guardian of the convent. This situation necessarily imposed on him the management of the institution; and thus the powers of his mind, so long wasted in unprofitable reverie, were again called into exercise for the benefit of others. An event which occurred some years later, in 1492, opened to him a still wider sphere of action.

By the elevation of Talavera to the metropolitan see of Granada, the office of queen's confessor became vacant. Cardinal Mendoza, who was consulted on the choice of a successor, well knew the importance of selecting a man of the highest integrity and talent; since the queen's tenderness of conscience led her to take counsel of her confessor, not merely in regard to her own spiritual concerns, but all the great measures of her administration. He at once fixed his eye on Ximenes, of whom he had never lost sight, indeed, since his first acquaintance with him at Siguenza. He was far from approving his adoption of the monastic life, and had been heard to say, that "parts so extraordinary would not long be buried in the shades of a convent." He is said, also, to have predicted that Ximenes would one day succeed him in the chair of Toledo. A prediction, which its author contributed more than any other to verify. [17]

He recommended Ximenes in such emphatic terms to the queen, as raised a strong desire in her to see and converse with him herself. An invitation was accordingly sent him from the cardinal to repair to the court at Valladolid, without intimating the real purpose of it. Ximenes obeyed the summons, and, after a short interview with his early patron, was conducted, as if without any previous arrangement, to the queen's apartment. On finding himself so unexpectedly in the royal presence, he betrayed none of the agitation or embarrassment to have been expected from the secluded inmate of a cloister, but exhibited a natural dignity of manners, with such discretion and fervent piety, in his replies to Isabella's various interrogatories, as confirmed the favorable prepossessions she had derived from the cardinal.

Not many days after, Ximenes was invited to take charge of the queen's conscience. Far from appearing elated by this mark of royal favor, and the prospects of advancement which it opened, he seemed to view it with disquietude, as likely to interrupt the peaceful tenor of his religious duties; and he accepted it only with the understanding, that he should be allowed to conform in every respect to the obligations of his order, and to remain in his own monastery when his official functions did not require attendance at court. [18]

Martyr, in more than one of his letters dated at this time, notices the impression made on the courtiers by the remarkable appearance of the new confessor, in whose wasted frame, and pallid, care-worn countenance, they seemed to behold one of the primitive anchorites from the deserts of Syria or Egypt. [19] The austerities and the blameless purity of Ximenes's life had given him a reputation for sanctity throughout Spain; [20] and Martyr indulges the regret, that a virtue, which had stood so many trials, should be exposed to the worst of all, in the seductive blandishments of a court. But Ximenes's heart had been steeled by too stern a discipline to be moved by the fascinations of pleasure, however it might be by those of ambition.

Two years after this event, he was elected provincial of his order in Castile, which placed him at the head of its numerous religious establishments. In his frequent journeys for their inspection he travelled on foot, supporting himself by begging alms, conformably to the rules of his order. On his return he made a very unfavorable report to the queen of the condition of the various institutions, most of which he represented to have grievously relaxed in discipline and virtue. Contemporary accounts corroborate this unfavorable picture, and accuse the religious communities of both sexes throughout Spain, at this period, of wasting their hours, not merely in unprofitable sloth, but in luxury and licentiousness. The Franciscans, in particular, had so far swerved from the obligations of their institute, which interdicted the possession of property of any description, that they owned large estates in town and country, living in stately edifices, and in a style of prodigal expense not surpassed by any of the monastic orders. Those who indulged in this latitude were called conventuals, while the comparatively small number who put the strictest construction on the rule of their founder were denominated observantines, or brethren of the observance. Ximenes, it will be remembered, was one of the latter. [21]

The Spanish sovereigns had long witnessed with deep regret the scandalous abuses which had crept into these ancient institutions, and had employed commissioners for investigating and reforming them, but ineffectually. Isabella now gladly availed herself of the assistance of her confessor in bringing them into a better state of discipline. In the course of the same year, 1494, she obtained a bull with full authority for this purpose from Alexander the Sixth, the execution of which she intrusted to Ximenes. The work of reform required all the energies of his powerful mind, backed by the royal authority. For, in addition to the obvious difficulty of persuading men to resign the good things of this world for a life of penance and mortification, there were other impediments, arising from the circumstance that the conventuals had been countenanced in their lax interpretation of the rules of their order by many of their own superiors, and even the popes themselves. They were besides sustained in their opposition by many of the great lords, who were apprehensive that the rich chapels and masses, which they or their ancestors had founded in the various monasteries, would be neglected by the observantines, whose scrupulous adherence to the vow of poverty excluded them from what, in church as well as state, is too often found the most cogent incentive to the performance of duty. [22]

From these various causes, the work of reform went on slowly; but the untiring exertions of Ximenes gradually effected its adoption in many establishments; and, where fair means could not prevail, he sometimes resorted to force. The monks of one of the convents in Toledo, being ejected from their dwelling, in consequence of their pertinacious resistance, marched out in solemn procession, with the crucifix before them, chanting, at the same time, the psalm De exitu Israel, in token of their persecution. Isabella resorted to milder methods. She visited many of the nunneries in person, taking her needle or distaff with her, and endeavoring by her conversation and example to withdraw their inmates from the low and frivolous pleasures to which they were addicted. [23]

While the reformation was thus silently going forward, the vacancy in the archbishopric of Toledo already noticed occurred by the death of the grand cardinal. Isabella deeply felt the responsibility of providing a suitable person to this dignity, the most considerable not merely in Spain, but probably in Christendom, after the papacy; and which, moreover, raised its possessor to eminent political rank, as high chancellor of Castile. [24] The right of nomination to benefices was vested in the queen by the original settlement of the crown. She had uniformly discharged this trust with the most conscientious impartiality, conferring the honors of the church on none but persons of approved piety and learning. [25] In the present instance, she was strongly solicited by Ferdinand, in favor of his natural son Alfonso, archbishop of Saragossa. But this prelate, although not devoid of talent, had neither the age nor experience, and still less the exemplary morals, demanded for this important station; and the queen mildly, but unhesitatingly, resisted all entreaty and expostulation of her husband on his behalf. [26]

The post had always been filled by men of high family. The queen, loath to depart from this usage, notwithstanding the dying admonition of Mendoza, turned her eyes on various candidates before she determined in favor of her own confessor, whose character presented so rare a combination of talent and virtue, as amply compensated any deficiency of birth.

As soon as the papal bull reached Castile, confirming the royal nomination, Isabella summoned Ximenes to her presence, and, delivering to him the parcel, requested him to open it before her. The confessor, who had no suspicion of their real purport, took the letters and devoutly pressed them to his lips; when his eye falling on the superscription, "To our venerable brother Francisco Ximenez de Cisneros, archbishop elect of Toledo," he changed color, and involuntarily dropped the packet from his hands, exclaiming, "There is some mistake in this; it cannot be intended for me;" and abruptly quitted the apartment.

The queen, far from taking umbrage at this unceremonious proceeding, waited a while, until the first emotions of surprise should have subsided. Finding that he did not return, however, she despatched two of the grandees, who she thought would have the most influence with him, to seek him out and persuade him to accept the office. The nobles instantly repaired to his convent in Madrid, in which city the queen then kept her court. They found, however, that he had already left the place. Having ascertained his route, they mounted their horses, and, following as fast as possible, succeeded in overtaking him at three leagues' distance from the city, as he was travelling on foot at a rapid rate, though in the noontide heat, on his way to the Franciscan monastery at Ocana.

After a brief expostulation with Ximenes on his abrupt departure, they prevailed on him to retrace his steps to Madrid; but, upon his arrival there, neither the arguments nor entreaties of his friends, backed as they were by the avowed wishes of his sovereign, could overcome his scruples, or induce him to accept an office, of which he professed himself unworthy. "He had hoped," he said, "to pass the remainder of his days in the quiet practice of his monastic duties; and it was too late now to call him into public life, and impose a charge of such heavy responsibility on him, for which he had neither capacity nor inclination." In this resolution he pertinaciously persisted for more than six months, until a second bull was obtained from the pope, commanding him no longer to decline an appointment which the church had seen fit to sanction. This left no further room for opposition, and Ximenes acquiesced, though with evident reluctance, in his advancement to the first dignity in the kingdom. [27]

There seems to be no good ground for charging Ximenes with hypocrisy in this singular display of humility. The nolo episcopal, indeed, has passed into a proverb; but his refusal was too long and sturdily maintained to be reconciled with affectation or insincerity. He was, moreover, at this time, in the sixtieth year of his age, when ambition, though not extinguished, is usually chilled in the human heart. His habits had been long accommodated to the ascetic duties of the cloister, and his thoughts turned from the business of this world to that beyond the grave. However gratifying the distinguished honor conferred on him might be to his personal feelings, he might naturally hesitate to exchange the calm, sequestered way of life, to which he had voluntarily devoted himself, for the turmoil and vexations of the world.

But, although Ximenes showed no craving for power, it must be confessed he was by no means diffident in the use of it. One of the very first acts of his administration is too characteristic to be omitted. The government of Cazorla, the most considerable place in the gift of the archbishop of Toledo, had been intrusted by the grand cardinal to his younger brother Don Pedro Hurtado de Mendoza. The friends of this nobleman applied to Ximenes to confirm the appointment, reminding him at the same time of his own obligations to the cardinal, and enforcing their petition by the recommendation which they had obtained from the queen. This was not the way to approach Ximenes, who was jealous of any improper influence over his own judgment, and, above all, of the too easy abuse of the royal favor. He was determined, in the outset, effectually to discourage all such applications; and he declared, that "the sovereigns might send him back to the cloister again, but that no personal considerations should ever operate with him in distributing the honors of the church." The applicants, nettled at this response, returned to the queen, complaining in the bitterest terms of the arrogance and ingratitude of the new primate. Isabella, however, evinced no symptoms of disapprobation, not altogether displeased, perhaps, with the honest independence of her minister; at any rate, she took no further notice of the affair. [28]

Some time after, the archbishop encountered Mendoza in one of the avenues of the palace, and, as the latter was turning off to avoid the meeting, he saluted him with the title of adelantado of Cazorla. Mendoza stared with astonishment at the prelate, who repeated the salutation, assuring him, "that, now he was at full liberty to consult his own judgment, without the suspicion of any sinister influence, he was happy to restore him to a station, for which he had shown himself well qualified." It is scarcely necessary to say, that Ximenes was not importuned after this with solicitations for office. Indeed, all personal application he affected to regard as of itself sufficient ground for a denial, since it indicated "the want either of merit or of humility in the applicant." [29]

After his elevation to the primacy, he retained the same simple and austere manners as before, dispensing his large revenues in public and private charities, but regulating his domestic expenditure with the severest economy, [30] until he was admonished by the Holy See to adopt a state more consonant with the dignity of his office, if he would not disparage it in popular estimation. In obedience to this, he so far changed his habits, as to display the usual magnificence of his predecessors, in all that met the public eye,—his general style of living, equipage, and the number and pomp of his retainers; but he relaxed nothing of his own personal mortifications. He maintained the same abstemious diet, amidst all the luxuries of his table. Under his robes of silk or costly furs he wore the coarse frock of St. Francis, which he used to mend with his own hands. He used no linen about his person or bed; and he slept on a miserable pallet like that used by the monks of his fraternity, and so contrived as to be concealed from observation under the luxurious couch in which he affected to repose. [31]

As soon as Ximenes entered on the duties of his office, he bent all the energies of his mind to the consummation of the schemes of reform which his royal mistress, as well as himself, had so much at heart. His attention was particularly directed to the clergy of his diocese, who had widely departed from the rule of St. Augustine, by which they were bound. His attempts at reform, however, excited such a lively dissatisfaction in this reverend body, that they determined to send one of their own number to Rome, to prefer their complaints against the archbishop at the papal court. [32]

The person selected for this delicate mission was a shrewd and intelligent canon by the name of Albornoz. It could not be conducted so privately as to escape the knowledge of Ximenes. He was no sooner acquainted with it, than he despatched an officer to the coast, with orders to arrest the emissary. In case he had already embarked, the officer was authorized to fit out a fast sailing vessel, so as to reach Italy, if possible, before him. He was at the same time fortified with despatches from the sovereigns to the Spanish minister, Garcilasso de la Vega, to be delivered immediately on his arrival.

The affair turned out as had been foreseen. On arriving at the port, the officer found the bird had flown. He followed, however, without delay, and had the good fortune to reach Ostia several days before him. He forwarded his instructions at once to the Spanish minister, who in pursuance of them caused Albornoz to be arrested the moment he set foot on shore, and sent him back as a prisoner of state to Spain; where a close confinement for two and twenty mouths admonished the worthy canon of the inexpediency of thwarting the plans of Ximenes. [33]

His attempts at innovation among the regular clergy of his own order were encountered with more serious opposition. The reform fell most heavily on the Franciscans, who were interdicted by their rules from holding property, whether as a community, or as individuals; while the members of other fraternities found some compensation for the surrender of their private fortunes, in the consequent augmentation of those of their fraternity. There was no one of the religious orders, therefore, in which the archbishop experienced such a dogged resistance to his plans, as in his own. More than a thousand friars, according to some accounts, quitted the country and passed over to Barbary, preferring rather to live with the infidel, than conform to the strict letter of their founder's rules. [34]

One account represents the migration as being to Italy and other Christian countries, where the conventual order was protected; which would seem the most probable, though not the best authenticated, statement of the two.

The difficulties of the reform were perhaps augmented by the mode in which it was conducted. Isabella, indeed, used all gentleness and persuasion; [35] but Ximenes carried measures with a high and inexorable hand. He was naturally of an austere and arbitrary temper, and the severe training which he had undergone made him less charitable for the lapses of others; especially of those, who, like himself, had voluntarily incurred the obligations of monastic rule. He was conscious of the rectitude of his intentions; and, as he identified his own interests with those of the church, he regarded all opposition to himself as an offence against religion, warranting the most peremptory exertion of power.

The clamor raised against his proceedings became at length so alarming, that the general of the Franciscans, who resided at Rome, determined to anticipate the regular period of his visit to Castile for inspecting the affairs of the order. As he was himself a conventual, his prejudices were of course all enlisted against the measures of reform; and he came over fully resolved to compel Ximenes to abandon it altogether, or to undermine, if possible, his credit and influence at court. But this functionary had neither the talent nor temper requisite for so arduous an undertaking.

He had not been long in Castile before he was convinced that all his own power, as head of the order, would be incompetent to protect it against the bold innovations of his provincial, while supported by royal authority. He demanded, therefore, an audience of the queen, in which he declared his sentiments with very little reserve. He expressed his astonishment that she should have selected an individual for the highest dignity in the church, who was destitute of nearly every qualification, even that of birth; whose sanctity was a mere cloak to cover his ambition; whose morose and melancholy temper made him an enemy not only of the elegances, but the common courtesies of life; and whose rude manners were not compensated by any tincture of liberal learning. He deplored the magnitude of the evil, which his intemperate measures had brought on the church, but which it was, perhaps, not yet too late to rectify; and he concluded by admonishing her, that, if she valued her own fame, or the interests of her soul, she would compel this man of yesterday to abdicate the office, for which he had proved himself so incompetent, and return to his original obscurity!

The queen, who listened to this violent harangue with an indignation, that prompted her more than once to order the speaker from her presence, put a restraint on her feelings, and patiently waited to the end. When he had finished, she calmly asked him, "If he was in his senses, and knew whom he was thus addressing?" "Yes," replied the enraged friar, "I am in my senses, and know very well whom I am speaking to;—the queen of Castile, a mere handful of dust, like myself!" With these words, he rushed out of the apartment, shutting the door after him with furious violence. [36]

Such impotent bursts of passion could, of course, have no power to turn the queen from her purpose. The general, however, on his return to Italy, had sufficient address to obtain authority from His Holiness to send a commission of conventuals to Castile, who should be associated with Ximenes in the management of the reform. These individuals soon found themselves mere ciphers; and, highly offended at the little account which the archbishop made of their authority, they preferred such complaints of his proceedings to the pontifical court, that Alexander the Sixth was induced, with the advice of the college of cardinals, to issue a brief, November 9th, 1496, peremptorily inhibiting the sovereigns from proceeding further in the affair, until it had been regularly submitted for examination to the head of the church. [37]

Isabella, on receiving this unwelcome mandate, instantly sent it to Ximenes. The spirit of the latter, however, rose in proportion to the obstacles it had to encounter. He sought only to rally the queen's courage, beseeching her not to faint in the good work, now that it was so far advanced, and assuring her that it was already attended with such beneficent fruits, as could not fail to secure the protection of Heaven. Isabella, every act of whose administration may be said to have had reference, more or less remote, to the interests of religion, was as little likely as himself to falter in a matter which proposed these interests as its direct and only object. She assured her minister that she would support him in all that was practicable; and she lost no time in presenting the affair, through her agents, in such a light to the court of Rome, as might work a more favorable disposition in it. In this she succeeded, though not till after multiplied delays and embarrassments; and such ample powers were conceded to Ximenes, in conjunction with the apostolic nuncio, as enabled him to consummate his grand scheme of reform, in defiance of all the efforts of his enemies. [38]

The reformation thus introduced extended to the religious institutions of very order equally with his own. It was most searching in its operation, reaching eventually to the moral conduct of the subjects of it, no less than the mere points of monastic discipline. As regards the latter; it may be thought of doubtful benefit to have enforced the rigid interpretation of a rule, founded on the melancholy principle, that the amount of happiness in the next world is to be regulated by that of self-inflicted suffering in this. But it should be remembered, that, however objectionable such a rule may be in itself, yet, where it is voluntarily assumed as an imperative moral obligation, it cannot be disregarded without throwing down the barrier to unbounded license; and that the reassertion of it, under these circumstances, must be a necessary preliminary to any effectual reform of morals.

The beneficial changes wrought in this latter particular, which Isabella had far more at heart than any exterior forms of discipline, are the theme of unqualified panegyric with her contemporaries. [39] The Spanish clergy, as I have before had occasion to remark, were early noted for their dissolute way of life, which, to a certain extent, seemed to be countenanced by the law itself. [40] This laxity of morals was carried to a most lamentable extent under the last reign, when all orders of ecclesiastics, whether regular or secular, infected probably by the corrupt example of the court, are represented (we may hope it is an exaggeration) as wallowing in all the excesses of sloth and sensuality. So deplorable a pollution of the very sanctuaries of religion could not fail to occasion sincere regret to a pure and virtuous mind like Isabella's. The stain had sunk too deep, however, to be readily purged away. Her personal example, indeed, and the scrupulous integrity with which she reserved all ecclesiastical preferment for persons of unblemished piety, contributed greatly to bring about an amelioration in the morals of the secular clergy. But the secluded inmates of the cloister were less open to these influences; and the work of reform could only be accomplished there, by bringing them back to a reverence for their own institutions, and by the slow operation of public opinion.

Notwithstanding the queen's most earnest wishes, it may be doubted whether this would have ever been achieved without the co-operation of a man like Ximenes, whose character combined in itself all the essential elements of a reformer. Happily, Isabella was permitted to see before her death, if not the completion, at least the commencement, of a decided amendment in the morals of the religious orders; an amendment, which, so far from being transitory in its character calls forth the most emphatic eulogium from a Castilian writer far in the following century; who, while he laments their ancient laxity, boldly challenges comparison for the religious communities of his own country, with those of any other, in temperance, chastity, and exemplary purity of life and conversation. [41]

* * * * *

The authority on whom the life of Cardinal Ximenes mainly rests, is Alvaro Gomez de Castro. He was born in the village of St. Eulalia, near Toledo, in 1515, and received his education at Alcalá, where he obtained great repute for his critical acquaintance with the ancient classics. He was afterwards made professor of the humanities in the university; a situation which he filled with credit, but subsequently exchanged for the rhetorical chair in a school recently founded at Toledo. While thus occupied, he was chosen by the university of Alcalá to pay the most distinguished honor, which could be rendered to the memory of its illustrious founder, by a faithful record of his extraordinary life. The most authentic sources of information were thrown open to him. He obtained an intimate acquaintance with the private life of the cardinal, from three of his principal domestics, who furnished abundance of reminiscences from personal observation, while the archives of the university supplied a mass of documents relating to the public services of its patron. From these and similar materials, Gomez prepared his biography, after many years of patient labor. The work fully answered public expectation; and its merits are such as to lead the learned Nic. Antonio to express a doubt, whether anything more excellent or perfect in its way could be achieved; "quo opere in eo genere an praestantius quidquam aut perfectius, esse possit, non immerito saepe dubitavi." (Bibliotheca Nova, tom. i. p. 59.) The encomium may be thought somewhat excessive; but it cannot be denied, that the narrative is written in an easy and natural manner, with fidelity and accuracy, with commendable liberality of opinion, though with a judgment sometimes warped into an undue estimate of the qualities of his hero. It is distinguished, moreover, by such beauty and correctness of Latinity, as have made it a text-book in many of the schools and colleges of the Peninsula. The first edition, being that used in the present work, was published at Alcalá, in 1569. It has since been reprinted twice in Germany, and perhaps elsewhere. Gomez was busily occupied with other literary lucubrations during the remainder of his life, and published several works in Latin prose and verse, both of which he wrote with ease and elegance. He died of a catarrh, in 1580, in the sixty-sixth year of his age, leaving behind him a reputation for disinterestedness and virtue, which is sufficiently commemorated in two lines of his epitaph;

"Nemini unquam sciens nocui,
Prodesse quam pluribus curavi."

The work of Gomez has furnished the basis for all those biographies of Ximenes which have since appeared in Spain. The most important of these, probably, is Quintanilla's; which, with little merit of selection or arrangement, presents a copious mass of details, drawn from every quarter whence his patient industry could glean them. Its author was a Franciscan, and employed in procuring the beatification of Cardinal Ximenes by the court of Rome; a circumstance which probably disposed him to easier faith in the marvellous of his story, than most of his readers will be ready to give. The work was published at Palermo in 1653.

In addition to these authorities I have availed myself of a curious old manuscript, presented to me by Mr. O. Rich, entitled "Suma de la Vida del R. S. Cardenal Don Fr. Francisco Ximenez de Cisneros." It was written within half a century after the cardinal's death, by "un criado de la casa de Coruña." The original, in "very ancient letter," was extant in the archives of that noble house in Quintanilla's time, and is often cited by him. (Archetypo, apend., p. 77.) Its author evidently had access to those contemporary notices, some of which furnished the basis of Castro's narrative, from which, indeed, it exhibits no material discrepancy.

The extraordinary character of Ximenes has naturally attracted the attention of foreign writers, and especially the French, who have produced repeated biographies of him. The most eminent of these is by Fléchier, the eloquent bishop of Nismes. It is written with the simple elegance and perspicuity, which characterize his other compositions; and in the general tone of its sentiments, on all matters both of church and state, is quite as orthodox as the most bigoted admirer of the cardinal could desire. Another life, by Marsollier, has obtained a very undeserved repute. The author, not content with the extraordinary qualities really appertaining to his hero, makes him out a sort of universal genius, quite ridiculous, rivalling Molière's Dr. Pancrace himself. One may form some idea of the historian's accuracy from the fact, that he refers the commencement and conduct of the war of Granada chiefly to the counsels of Ximenes, who, as we have seen, was not even introduced at court till after the close of the war. Marsollier reckoned largely on the ignorance and gullibility of his readers. The event proved he was not mistaken.