Item suplico á vuestras mercedes manden se me dé un mandamiento para el pagador de las escuelas de Salamanca[B] para que pague lo corrido de mi cátreda desde el dia de mi prision hasta el dia que vacó por el cuadrienio. Y en todo imploro el oficio etc.—
| [A] Al márgen se lee: "Que se le de la fee". [B] Al márgen: "Que se le de mandamiento. En 15 de diciembre de 1576".' |
Documentos inéditos, vol. XI, p. 358: 'En 13 de agosto de 1577 años, por mandado de los señores Inquisidores saqué esta sentencia de fray Luis, signada, é la entregué al Señor Inquisidor doctor Guijano. Sacóse para el maestrescuela de Salamanca.' This sentence is probably written by the secretary, Celedon Gustin.
IV
When did Luis de Leon return to Salamanca, and how was he received there? According to an anonymous contemporary, whom Gallardo conjectured to be a Jesuit, Luis de Leon made a sort of triumphal entry into Salamanca, accompanied by a procession which marched along to the sound of timbrels and trumpets.[189] This procession is alleged to have taken place in the afternoon of December 30, 1576; but, as the statement is made by one who has no divine idea of a date,[190] it would be imprudent to rely on his unsupported authority in this particular. The date of the procession may be doubtful. There is no reason to doubt the general accuracy of the assertion that there was some public manifestation of joy at Luis de Leon's release.[191] Though he was not popular, his fellow-citizens were proud of him, and there is a natural tendency to show sympathy with a man who has been hardly used. But life is not made up of triumphal processions. On December 31[192] Luis de Leon met the Claustro of the University, which had been duly informed of his acquittal. After congratulatory phrases from the Rector, the released man was invited to speak. According to the decree of the Inquisition, Luis de Leon was entitled to claim restitution to his University chair. There were practical difficulties in the way. Luis de Leon's tenure had lapsed while he was in prison at Valladolid; his immediate successor had been Bartolomé de Medina, a dangerous enemy, and the chair was subsequently occupied by the Benedictine Fray Garcia del Castillo, another declared opponent who had intervened at an early stage of the case. Luis de Leon renounced all claim, present or future, to his former chair—que la daba por bien empleada—so long as it was held by Castillo. He besought the Claustro to bear in mind his past services, pointed out that his acquittal implied a general approval of his teaching, and then left the meeting.[193] Finally the Claustro of Salamanca agreed to create a new chair for Luis de Leon, with a salary of two hundred ducats a year, his duty being to lecture on theology.[194]
We now come to the best-known trait in Luis de Leon's career. He would seem to have begun lecturing in his new chair on January 29, 1577.[195] The gathering was large, and now and here—if at any time and in any place—he must have begun his lecture with the famous phrase: 'As we were saying yesterday' (Dicebamus hesterna die). Almost everybody who hears the story for the first time takes it for granted that the remark was made to what was left of Luis de Leon's old class—the class which he had been instructing just previous to his arrest: otherwise, the anecdote loses great part of its point. It behoves us therefore to examine the circumstances in which the story was first made public. The earliest mention of the incident occurs apparently in the Monasticon Augustinianum by the once well-known Nicolaas Cruesen, whose work appeared at Munich in 1623.[196] The picturesque narrative soon struck the popular imagination, and it has been repeated times innumerable.[197] One is always reluctant to part with a good tale, but there is no denying the fact that the evidence in favour of the current version is slighter than one could wish it to be. The silence of all contemporary Spaniards with respect to this episode is not a little strange. It is singular that the anecdote should reach Spain from abroad, and that it should not be printed till forty-six years after it is supposed to have occurred; that is to say, till Luis de Leon had been thirty-two years in his grave. It does not necessarily follow that the story is untrue. Nobody imagines that Cruesen deliberately invented it. So far as appears, Cruesen was an absolutely upright man who recorded with fidelity such information as he could obtain. He was not ill-placed for obtaining information. Himself an Augustinian, he was something of a cosmopolitan. Though Flemish by blood, Cruesen was technically a Spanish subject; he was in full sympathy with the politico-religious aims of Spain in the Low Countries, and during the Spanish occupation he must have had opportunities of meeting and questioning men who were Spanish by race. Moreover, it seems to be established that, though the story concerning Luis de Leon's remark did not appear in print till 1623, the chapter containing it was written previous to 1612.[198] If this be so, the account given by Cruesen must be dated thirty-five years after the alleged occurrence and twenty-one years after Luis de Leon's death. Further, Cruesen, who knew Spanish, travelled in Spain. There he seems to have made the acquaintance of Fray Basilio Ponce de Leon, Luis de Leon's able and admiring nephew. It is by no means impossible that Fray Basilio was Cruesen's informant,[199] and, if this were proved, the case for the story would be greatly strengthened, since it is inconceivable that the nephew should repeat the anecdote, for the purposes of publication, unless he had had it direct from his famous uncle. These, however, are conjectures, more or less probable. The story may derive from Fray Basilio Ponce de Leon or it may not. It is the kind of story that any unscrupulous person might easily invent and repeat to a too credulous visitor. As it stands, the evidence in its support is, on the face of it, unsatisfactory. The case for the story is perhaps not quite so weak as has been supposed;[200] ingenuity has shown that the case against it may, to some extent, be frittered away.[201] Still, there is no getting over the fact that this charming anecdote is first reported outside of Spain by a foreigner who related it in print long after Luis de Leon's death. No first-hand testimony in its favour has hitherto been produced. Those who choose to believe in the authenticity of the current version may not unreasonably do so; it is obvious, however, that, in the absence of direct evidence, they will have great difficulty in persuading others to share their belief.
To return to prosaic details. The Claustro had promptly created a chair for Luis de Leon after his release from prison; there was more ado about granting his request—made on the ground of health—that he should be allowed to lecture from ten till eleven o'clock. Unluckily, this time had been already allotted to the Dean of the Theological Faculty, Diego Rodriguez, a Dominican, who objected to the proposal. Bartolomé de Medina not unnaturally stood by his brother-Dominican, opposed the demand of the newly elected professor on the ground that it could not be granted without showing disrespect to the Dean, and suggested that Luis de Leon should be instructed to lecture from four to five o'clock. On a vote being taken, the Claustro gave Luis de Leon a majority; but, as the Rector of the University claimed to be the deciding authority on such questions, the matter was not finally decided at this meeting.[202] It might seem that, in practice, Luis de Leon carried his point for, as the clock struck ten on January 29, 1577, he began his first lecture in his new post; but this was mainly a formal taking possession of the post, and the professor in his fragmentary lecture took occasion to protest against not having a lecture hour assigned to him.[203] Luis de Leon continued to occupy the chair that had been created for him. The death of Francisco Sancho, bishop of Segorbe, in June 1578 caused a vacancy in the university chair of Moral Philosophy. Luis de Leon determined to present himself as a candidate. A rival candidate came forward in the person of Fray Francisco Zumel, Rector of the Mercenarian College. The struggle was vehement. Zumel did not stick at trifles; he charged his opponent with exercising undue pressure on the electors by means of cajolery, threats, lavish hospitality (which was dispensed with the aid of brother-Augustinians), bribery, and attempted personal violence.[204] Luis de Leon was not behindhand: he sought to have Zumel disqualified on technical grounds, and further accused his opponent of breaking the law governing elections. In the heat of conflict, the very best of men seem able to persuade themselves that the most extravagant assertions are true. No one but the candidates can have taken these amenities seriously. When the battle was ended on August 14, 1578, Luis de Leon, who received 301 votes, was in a majority of seventy-nine.[205] This check appears to have rankled in Zumel's mind. Luis de Leon celebrated his success by taking the degree of Master of Arts on October 11. Why? It is hard to say. He cannot well have thought that the possession of a Master's degree would strengthen his position as one of the members representing the University of Salamanca on the Committee appointed to report on the projected reform of the calendar.[206] Normally this Committee, of which Medina and Domingo Bañez were also members, would have absorbed much of Luis de Leon's attention. His energies were to be otherwise exercised in the immediate future. The death of Gregorio Gallo, Bishop of Segovia, on September 25, 1579, caused a vacancy in the Biblical chair at Salamanca. The late bishop had viewed with no very friendly eyes some of Luis de Leon's proceedings before the Valladolid trial,[207] and it might have troubled him to think that Luis de Leon was destined to follow him at Salamanca. That, however, was what happened. The position was not carried without a stiff fight. At Valladolid, Salinas had said it was commonly thought by some of Luis de Leon's admirers that he could carry any University chair—especially a chair of Scripture—against all comers.[208] It was now to be seen whether this opinion was, or was not, well founded. A formidable competitor appeared in the person of Fray Domingo de Guzman, the third son of Garcilasso de la Vega. Though Guzman had not inherited his father's poetic gift, he had a turn for versifying, and his burlesque glosa of Luis de Leon's celebrated quintillas—