Similar remarks must be made about the chronicles of the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, extending from 1474 to 1504-16. There are several of them, but only two need be noticed. One is by Andres Bernaldez, often called “El Cura de los Palacios,” because he was curate in the small town of that name, though the materials for his Chronicle were, no doubt, gathered chiefly in Seville, the neighbouring splendid capital of Andalusia, to whose princely Archbishop he was chaplain. His Chronicle, written, it should seem, chiefly to please his own taste, extends from 1488 to 1513. It is honest and sincere, reflecting faithfully the physiognomy of his age; its credulity, its bigotry, and its love of show. It is, in truth, such an account of passing events as would be given by one who was rather curious about them than a part of them; but who, from accident, was familiar with whatever was going on among the leading spirits of his time and country.[288] No portion of it is more valuable and interesting than that which relates to Columbus, to whom he devotes thirteen chapters, and for whose history he must have had excellent materials, since not only was Deza, the Archbishop, to whose service he was attached, one of the friends and patrons of Columbus, but Columbus himself, in 1496, was a guest at the house of Bernaldez, and intrusted to him manuscripts which, he says, he has employed in this very account; thus placing his Chronicle among the documents important alike in the history of America and of Spain.[289]
The other chronicle of the time of Ferdinand and Isabella is that of Fernando del Pulgar, their Councillor of State, their Secretary, and their authorized Annalist. He was a person of much note in his time, but it is not known when he was born or where he died.[290] That he was a man of wit and letters, and an acute observer of life, we know from his notices of the Famous Men of Castile; from his Commentary on the Coplas of Mingo Revulgo; and from a few spirited and pleasant letters to his friends that have been spared to us. But as a chronicler his merit is inconsiderable.[291] The early part of his work is not trustworthy, and the latter part, beginning in 1482 and ending in 1490, is brief in its narrative, and tedious in the somewhat showy speeches with which it is burdened. The best of it is its style, which is often dignified; but it is the style of history, rather than that of a chronicle; and, indeed, the formal division of the work, according to its subjects, into three parts, as well as the philosophical reflections with which it is adorned, show that the ancients had been studied by its author, and that he was desirous to imitate them.[292] Why he did not continue his account beyond 1490, we cannot tell. It has been conjectured that he died then.[293] But this is a mistake, for we have a well-written and curious report, made by him to the queen, on the whole Moorish history of Granada, after the capture of the city in 1492.[294]
The Chronicle of Ferdinand and Isabella by Pulgar is the last instance of the old style of chronicling that should now be noticed; for though, as we have already observed, it was long thought for the dignity of the monarchy that the stately forms of authorized annals should be kept up, the free and picturesque spirit that gave them life was no longer there. Chroniclers were appointed, like Fernan de Ocampo and Mexia; but the true chronicling style was gone by, not to return.
CHAPTER X.
Chronicles of Particular Events. — The Passo Honroso. — The Seguro de Tordesillas. — Chronicles of Particular Persons. — Pero Niño. — Alvaro de Luna. — Gonzalvo de Córdova. — Chronicles of Travels. — Clavijo, Columbus, Balboa, and others. — Romantic Chronicles. — Roderic and the Destruction of Spain. — General Remarks on the Spanish Chronicles.
Chronicles of Particular Events.—It should be borne in mind, that we have thus far traced only the succession of what may be called the general Spanish chronicles, which, prepared by royal hands or under royal authority, have set forth the history of the whole country, from its earliest beginnings and most fabulous traditions, down through its fierce wars and divisions, to the time when it had, by the final overthrow of the Moorish power, been settled into a quiet and compact monarchy. From their subject and character, they are, of course, the most important, and, generally, the most interesting, works of the class to which they belong. But, as might be expected from the influence they exercised and the popularity they enjoyed, they were often imitated. Many chronicles were written on a great variety of subjects, and many works in a chronicling style which yet never bore the name. Most of them are of no value. But to the few that, from their manner or style, deserve notice we must now turn for a moment, beginning with those that refer to particular events.
Two of these special chronicles relate to occurrences in the reign of John the Second, and are not only curious in themselves and for their style, but valuable, as illustrating the manners of the time. The first, according to the date of its events, is the “Passo Honroso,” or the Passage of Honor, and is a formal account of a passage at arms which was held against all comers in 1434, at the bridge of Orbigo, near the city of Leon, during thirty days, at a moment when the road was thronged with knights passing for a solemn festival to the neighbouring shrine of Santiago. The challenger was Suero de Quiñones, a gentleman of rank, who claimed to be thus emancipated from the service of wearing for a noble lady’s sake a chain of iron around his neck every Thursday. The arrangements for this extraordinary tournament were all made under the king’s authority. Nine champions, mantenedores, we are told, stood with Quiñones, and at the end of the thirty days it was found that sixty-eight knights had adventured themselves against his claim; that six hundred and twenty-seven encounters had taken place; and that sixty-six lances had been broken;—one knight, an Aragonese, having been killed, and many wounded, among whom were Quiñones and eight out of his nine fellow-champions.[295]
Strange as all this may sound, and seeming to carry us back to the fabulous days when the knights of romance
“Jousted in Aspramont or Montalban,”