Don cuiavon qu'en fos esmendatz
Lo jove reys, e·n Richartz lo prezatz
E·l coms Jaufres, tug li trey valen fraire.
"The generous and frank, the worthy and attractive of whom men thought that in him were increased the qualities of the young king, of Richard the high renowned, and of the Count Godfrey, all the three valiant brothers." Peire Vidal in one of the poems which he addressed to Alfonso VIII., speaks of the attractions of Spain. "Spain is a good country; its kings and lords are kindly and loving, generous and noble, of courteous company; other barons there are, noble and hospitable, men of sense and knowledge, valiant and renowned." Raimon Vidal of Bezaudun, a Catalonian troubadour has given a description of Alfonso's court in one of his novelas. "I wish to relate a story which I heard a joglar tell at the court of the wisest king that ever was, King Alfonso of Castile, where were presents and gifts, judgment, worth and courtesy, spirit and chivalry, though he was not anointed or sacred, but crowned with praise, sense, worth and prowess. The king gathered many knights to his court, many joglars and rich barons and when the court was filled Queen Eleanor came in dressed so that no one saw her body. She came wrapped closely in a cloak of silken fabric fine and fair called sisclaton; it was red with a border of silver and had a golden lion broidered on it. She bowed to the king and took her seat on one side at some distance. Then, behold, a joglar come before the king, frank and debonair, who said 'King, noble emperor, I have come to you thus and I pray you of your goodness that my tale may be heard,'" The scene concludes, "Joglar, I hold the story which you have related as good, amusing and fair and you also the teller of it and I will order such reward to be given to you that you shall know that the story has indeed pleased me."
The crown of Castile was united with that of Leon by Fernando III. (1230-1262) the son of Alfonso IX. of Leon. Lanfranc Cigala, the troubadour of Genoa, excuses the Spaniards at this time for their abstention from the Crusades to Jerusalem on the ground that they were fully occupied in their struggles with the Moors. Fernando is one of the kings to whom Sordello refers in the famous sirventes of the divided heart, as also is Jaime I. of Aragon (1213-1276), the "Conquistador," of whom much is heard in the poetry of the troubadours. He was born at Montpelier and was fond of revisiting his birthplace; troubadours whom he there met accompanied him to Spain, joined in his expeditions and enjoyed his generosity. His court became a place of refuge for those who had been driven out of Southern France by the Albigeois crusade; Peire Cardenal, Bernard Sicart de Marvejols and N'At de Mons of Toulouse visited him. His popularity with the troubadours was considerably shaken by his policy in 1242, when a final attempt was made to throw off the yoke imposed upon Southern France as the result of the Albigeois crusade. Isabella of Angoulême, the widow of John of England, had married the Count de la Marche; she urged him to rise against the French and induced her son, Henry III. of England, to support him. Henry hoped to regain his hold of Poitou and was further informed that the Count of Toulouse and the Spanish kings would join the alliance. There seems to have been a general belief that Jaime would take the opportunity of avenging his father's death at Muret. However, no Spanish help was forthcoming; the allies were defeated at Saintes and at Taillebourg and this abortive rising ended in 1243. Guillem de Montanhagol says in a sirventes upon this event, "If King Jaime, with whom we have never broken faith, had kept the agreement which is said to have been made between him and us, the French would certainly have had cause to grieve and lament." Bernard de Rovenhac shows greater bitterness: "the king of Aragon is undoubtedly well named Jacme (jac from jazer, to lie down) for he is too fond of lying down and when anyone despoils him of his land, he is so feeble that he does not offer the least opposition." Bernard Sicart de Marvejols voices the grief of his class at the failure of the rising: "In the day I am full of wrath and in the night I sigh betwixt sleeping and waking; wherever I turn, I hear the courteous people crying humbly 'Sire' to the French." These outbursts do not seem to have roused Jaime to any great animosity against the troubadour class. Aimeric de Belenoi belauds him, Peire Cardenal is said to have enjoyed his favour, and other minor troubadours refer to him in flattering terms.
The greatest Spanish patron of the troubadours was undoubtedly Alfonso X. of Castile (1254-1284). El Sabio earned his title by reason of his enlightened interest in matters intellectual; he was himself a poet, procured the translation of many scientific books and provided Castile with a famous code of laws. The Italian troubadours Bonifaci Calvo and Bartolomeo Zorzi were welcomed to his court, to which many others came from Provence. One of his favourites was the troubadour who was the last representative of the old school, Guiraut Riquier of Narbonne. He was born between 1230 and 1235, when the Albigeois crusade was practically over and when troubadour poetry was dying, as much from its own inherent lack of vitality as from the change of social and political environment which the upheaval of the previous twenty years had produced. Guiraut Riquier applied to a Northern patron for protection, a proceeding unexampled in troubadour history and the patron he selected was the King of France himself. Neither Saint Louis nor his wife were in the least likely to provide a market for Guiraut's wares and the Paris of that day was by no means a centre of literary culture. The troubadour, therefore, tried his fortune with Alfonso X. whose liberality had become almost proverbial. There he seems to have remained for some years and to have been well content, in spite of occasional friction with other suitors for the king's favour. His description of Catalonia is interesting.
Pus astres no m'es donatz
Que de mi dons bes m'eschaia,
Ni nulho nos plazers no·l platz,
Ni ay poder que·m n'estraia,