Besides the inveterate prejudices arising from antagonistic faiths and protracted warfare, other circumstances intervened to preclude the fusion of the two races after the Conquest. The Spaniard, with characteristic pride, asserted the superiority and predominance of his race and origin, and the slightest suspicion of Moorish blood constituted a blemish which no political or military distinction was ever able to eradicate. The industry of the Mudejares, their frugality, their clannishness, the seclusion of their women, aroused unfavorable comment among a people whose prejudices associated these practices with the name of an hereditary and implacable enemy. It had long been a subject of universal complaint that the larger proportion of the wealth of the kingdom was possessed by these unpopular tributaries. The idle Castilian, whose ancestors had for twenty-three generations subsisted by rapine, could not regard with indifference the plodding industry that conferred upon a subjugated and misbelieving race those substantial benefits which he had always been taught to regard as the birthright of a Christian. It was also publicly stated, to the prejudice of the tributary Moors, that even when they renounced their faith they still adhered to their former laborious habits; that none of them ever entered convents or monasteries; and that their contributions to the Church were not of the value to be expected from the zeal and generosity of sincere proselytes. Their conversion did not bring with it that indulgence and those privileges to which their ghostly instructors assured them they would be entitled; it did not even confer immunity from insult. Until the reign of Henry II. the Mudejares were exempt from the inconvenience of wearing a distinctive mark indicative of their social condition, which, long before imposed upon the Jews, was justly considered a badge of ignominy. After that time, however, they were required to wear upon their caps and turbans a blue crescent “of the size of an orange,” which constantly brought upon them the affronts of children, and not infrequently the taunts and violence of a fanatical populace. In spite of the serious restrictions imposed upon the Mudejares, and the enormous contributions levied upon their industry, they continued to prosper, and at the time of the surrender of Granada they were the most valuable subjects of the Spanish Crown. Policy, based upon a sense of weakness, had long repressed the avarice and envy of the Castilian sovereigns in their relations with a class whose skill and labor were the principal sources of the opulence of the realm. The time had now come when all restraint could be cast aside without danger, and royal aggression, not only sanctioned but suggested and encouraged by ecclesiastical authority, could violate every obligation, human and divine, that had been entered into with a conquered people, whose principal crime was their prosperity, and whose independence had been voluntarily relinquished under solemn treaties which had absolutely guaranteed their personal safety and the unmolested exercise of their civil and religious rights and privileges. A most pernicious maxim, but one entirely consonant with the prevailing sentiments of the age, had been recently adopted, and declared by the highest ecclesiastical authority susceptible of unlimited application. This was that, the original conquest of the Peninsula by the Moors partaking of the nature of an usurpation, or rather of a theft obtained by violence, all treaties or engagements entered into with the descendants of the invaders were valid only so long as the Christians chose to observe them, as having been dictated by necessity and contracted with persons outside the pale of the law. The peculiar casuistry, which deduced from Biblical precedent and the exterminating wars of the Jews analogies whose application wrought such havoc among the conquered nations of Spain and the New World, found no difficulty in the acceptation of the broader, and consequently even more atrocious, principle that no faith whatever was to be kept with infidels. Ecclesiastical ingenuity has never invented more potent weapons for the attainment of absolutism than these two maxims, which, rigorously applied, demonstrated their temporary and apparent efficacy by the utter extermination of millions of nominal enemies of the Spanish monarchy.
By the union of Castile and Aragon and the Conquest of Granada national unity had been secured; it now remained to place the religious establishment of the kingdom upon the same advantageous footing. The Inquisition, an engine of tremendous power, whose operations were attended by the most gratifying results, had, for more than two centuries, been employed in subduing recalcitrant heretics, procuring conversions, and replenishing the exhausted coffers of Church and State. First introduced into Aragon from France, its efforts were mainly directed against the Jews, whose wealth had brought upon them a convenient suspicion of heresy. The main objects of the Inquisition were in reality secular and political. That hideous institution aimed at the establishment of unquestioned sovereignty by the instruments of persecution. Religious dogmas, while nominally of vital importance in its procedure, were but pretexts by which the clergy, and indirectly the orthodox monarch, profited in the acquirement and consolidation of irresponsible authority. The stifling of human thought, the suppression of every branch of knowledge, the prohibition of the exercise of private judgment, the infinite multiplication of offences against religion, the minute gradation of penances, many of them of barbarous and incredible severity, were all means to the accomplishment of one base and ignoble end. The theological aspect of the Inquisition has engrossed the attention of historians to the exclusion of its genuine but concealed objects. That the punishment of heresy was not the real mission of its tribunal is proved by the fact that its sentences were frequently suspended, commuted, or abrogated by the sovereign, conditional on the payment of money. The rich were the especial objects of its hostility; the denunciation of a wealthy person was equivalent to conviction; and if a Hebrew or a Moslem, he could hardly escape the extreme penalty. The mystery of its organization, its unexpected arrests, its secret procedure, its frightful dungeons, the fiendish cruelty of the tortures it inflicted, and the atrocities of its public exhibitions—which partook of the nature of religious festivals, and, with shocking inconsistency, were supposed to be devoted to popular recreation—struck terror into every community and every family.
The successful prosecution of heresy by the Inquisition, as well as the financial advantages it promised, and the increase of ecclesiastical and royal power which followed its establishment, appealed forcibly to the bigoted and arbitrary mind of the Spanish Queen. Not so, however, with Ferdinand, whose experience with that dread tribunal had caused him to regard its operations with disfavor, and who had rendered his orthodoxy liable to suspicion by intrusting to Jewish bankers the administration of the finances of the Crown of Aragon. His remonstrances were, however, unheeded by his obstinate and despotic consort. The Kingdom of Castile had always enjoyed an unquestioned preponderance of authority and prestige in the affairs of the Peninsula. The compact which consolidated the two great realms into one empire expressly conferred upon Isabella the exclusive control of all matters relating to ecclesiastical jurisdiction. The right of presentation to benefices—long asserted by Castilian princes as a royal prerogative, and whose exercise, denounced by the Papacy as an usurpation, had repeatedly brought upon them the censures of the Holy See—invested the Queen with a power of vast and indefinable extent over the members of the Roman Catholic hierarchy, who owed their offices to her generosity, and whose revenues were largely dispensed in accordance with her advice. Her policy and her apparent interest induced her, therefore, to consent to the introduction of the Holy Office; and its tribunal was established at Cordova, under the direction of Tomas de Torquemada, first Inquisitor-General of the kingdom, a name of awful prominence in the history of Spanish persecution.
The capitulation of Granada had been concluded with every indication of sincerity, and with the most solemn assurances with which it is possible to invest the provisions and confirm the faith of treaties. The unsuspecting Moslems did not long remain in ignorance of the duplicity of their conquerors. Excesses were publicly committed by licentious cavaliers, who, instead of undergoing the penalty of death adjudged for such offences, escaped with a gentle reprimand, and were even conspicuously distinguished by the favor of their royal mistress. The seclusion of domestic life, so jealously guarded by Mohammedan custom, was unceremoniously invaded upon the most frivolous pretexts by the rude and insolent soldiery. The mosques, whose possession had been especially guaranteed by the articles of the treaty, were one after another seized and consecrated to the Christian worship. For these flagrant breaches of trust, the stupid and remorseless bigotry of Isabella was largely responsible. The city had hardly passed into the hands of the conquerors, before the advisability of forcible conversion began to be seriously discussed, and the Queen listened with pleasure to suggestions of indiscriminate and compulsory baptism. The efforts of priestly avarice and intolerance, secure in the royal support, began to encroach more and more upon the acknowledged rights of these unfortunate victims of persecution, until a revolution broke out, which threatened the integrity of the newly acquired dominions, and required the entire resources of the kingdom to suppress it. The government of Granada had been left in the hands of three men, whose excellent qualifications, previous experience, and inborn sense of justice rendered them eminently qualified for the difficult task to which they had been assigned. The famous Count of Tendilla was appointed Captain-General of the province. The interests of the Church were committed to Hernando de Talavera, Archbishop of Granada, a prelate in whose mind fanaticism never attained predominance over the noble impulses which assert the dignity of human nature; and whose liberality, rare in his age and profession, never refused indulgence and compassion to those of different blood or hostile faith. To these two representatives of royal and ecclesiastical authority was added as an adviser, and an interpreter of the treaty of capitulation, which he himself had drafted, Hernando de Zafra, secretary of the Catholic sovereigns, a man of talent, intelligence, and spotless integrity, who enjoyed the confidence of his superiors, and who, while conspicuously devout, was far less tinctured with the prejudices of the time than his theological education and previous associations would seem to imply.
Under the administration of these three dignitaries, the territory of Granada once more assumed an appearance of prosperity. Their probity won the confidence of the Moors, which had been shaken by the arbitrary and indefensible proceedings following the surrender. The capital, fallen into neglect and decay during years of insurrection and war, was repaired; new streets were opened, sanitary regulations were enforced, the markets were again crowded with traders; the Vega, long the scene of desolation, began to blossom once more under the patient hands of the industrious laborer. While a high sense of honor and an unusual diplomatic tact obtained for the Count of Tendilla the respect of his dependents, it was upon the disposition of the Archbishop that the security of the government and the pacification of the Moslems principally depended. The first great difficulty was, in reality, not with the latter, but with the Christian colonists, who had received, in recompense for real or fictitious services, establishments in the city, and whose licentious conduct provoked the animosity of the vanquished, and rendered the streets unsafe at night for wayfarers of every description.
The conduct of the Archbishop was beyond all praise. He endeavored by every conceivable means to improve the condition of his diocese, to revive decaying industry, and to promote the friendly relations of the two races whose previous traditions made complete fusion impossible. He dispensed at all times the most unbounded and discerning charity. He caused public works to be inaugurated, by which the needy poor were provided with employment. His apostolic zeal never stooped to the violence of persecution; his appeals were made to reason alone; and his subordinates, for the effectual performance of their duties, were compelled to learn the Arabic language, in which he himself, although far advanced in years, became sufficiently proficient to employ it successfully for the noble purposes of religious instruction. From the printing-presses, established by his munificence, issued sumptuous volumes printed in Castilian and Arabic, whose perusal might not only arouse the interest of old believer and recent proselyte, but could not fail to alike confirm the faith and facilitate the intercourse of both Christian and Moslem. Under his direction schools were founded; rituals and works embodying the doctrines and discipline of the Church translated; and regular conferences organized, wherein, at stated intervals, the comparative merits of the Christian and Mohammedan creeds were publicly discussed by learned theologians of both religions.
This excellent prelate, whose virtues are the more conspicuous and admirable when contrasted with the generally dissolute character of the ecclesiastics of the Spanish court, voluntarily renounced the larger portion of the emoluments of his office, reserving only what was sufficient for his immediate necessities, and dispensing with the pomp which the dignitaries of the hierarchy were accustomed to assume in the exercise of their calling. Two hundred and fifty persons shared daily the hospitality of his table; his bounty was enjoyed alike by officials of the highest rank, by Moors of every degree, by pilgrims and travellers soliciting alms. In his visits to the sick and the unfortunate he permanently impaired his health. Recognizing the importance of a consistent example, he instituted extensive reforms among the clergy. Their luxury was repressed, their intemperate zeal restrained, the systematic observance of their duties compelled, and those vices which had long been the scandal of the pious were either entirely checked, or, driven from public view, were forced into seclusion for their indulgence. In every possible manner he attempted to relieve the oppressive burdens imposed upon his parishioners by the fiscal regulations. His notaries were forbidden to collect the fees, which formed an important part of the revenues of the archiepiscopal see. He interposed his authority to prevent illegal and oppressive exactions by the tax-collectors. In his sermons, and by the exertion of his authority, he discouraged the practice of professional mendicity, the scourge and the disgrace of both Catholic and Mussulman countries.
With the secular and the ecclesiastical power vested in the hands of such men as the Count of Tendilla and Hernando de Talavera, the greatest results could not fail of accomplishment. The manners of the Spaniards were insensibly reformed. Such was the public tranquillity, that a mere handful of soldiers sufficed for the garrison of the Alhambra and the guard of the captain-general. The pious and unselfish example of the Archbishop soon bore fruit. Great numbers of Moors voluntarily signified their desire to become Christians. In one day three thousand were baptized, not one of whom ever afterwards recanted. These conversions were not obtained through suggestions of temporal advantage or the influence of fear; nor were the proselytes admitted to communion without previous instruction in the doctrines they were expected to profess or the duties they would be required to perform. The affection and respect of the Moslems for their instructor and friend were unbounded. They called him the “Holy Faqui of the Christians.” The churches were found unable to accommodate the increasing numbers of converts, and altars and pulpits were erected in the three principal squares of the city; the nightly brawls excited by the turbulent soldiers of fortune, domiciled by the Conquest in the Moorish capital, became more and more infrequent; a sense of security began to prevail in the community; the relations of noble and vassal were modified, to the decided advantage of the latter; ancient prejudices, confirmed by the enmity of centuries, were softened; and the political union of the two peoples, which could only be effected by a just and conciliatory policy, and upon which, in fact, depended the future prosperity of the Peninsula, seemed at length to offer a flattering prospect of realization.
Under these favorable auspices, for the space of several years, order, tranquillity, and contentment reigned in Granada. The courteous and equitable, but firm, administration of the governor; the blameless life, the humble piety, the sympathetic interest of the Archbishop had awakened the love and compelled the obedience of the tributary Moslems, who compared with wonder and gratification the operation of a system of kindness and justice with the arbitrary and violent measures of the despotism to which they had heretofore always been accustomed. During that period many important and tragic events transpired. Al-Zagal, oppressed with years and calamities and broken in spirit, had gone into voluntary exile. Boabdil, by means of an ignoble and treacherous device, whose adoption was alike unworthy of a monarch and a Christian, had been deprived of the principality for which he had bartered his crown and forced to retire into Africa. Every important provision of the capitulation had been repeatedly violated, and only the tact of those who controlled the government of Granada had prevented the most serious consequences. The Jews, under circumstances of unspeakable cruelty, had been expelled from the kingdom. In the hierarchy changes had taken place which boded no good to the heretic and the suspected apostate. Cardinal Mendoza, Primate of Spain, had died, and Francisco Ximenes de Cisneros, a Franciscan friar and the confessor of the Queen, had been promoted to that exalted dignity, whose power and emoluments rivalled those of the crown. The life, the associations, the studies of this man had developed a mind whose feelings were in perfect accordance with the narrow and intolerant spirit of the age. Without indulgence for the inherent weakness of human nature, without patience to await the effect of the deliberate and rational methods of discussion which promote religious conviction, absolutely devoid of generosity, of tenderness, of sympathy, he regarded unquestioning obedience to the Church as the most imperative of all obligations and mortification of the flesh as the most meritorious of virtues. He had recently secured the appointment of Diego de Deza, one of his creatures, to the place of Inquisitor-General, which gave him absolute control of the operations of the Holy Office.
The characters of the two great churchmen who in succession dictated the policy of the crown, though widely different in many respects, in general faithfully represent the prevalent ideas and aspirations of every class of society in the kingdom. The aim of both was religious unity, which during the long crusade against the infidel had usurped the place and depreciated the worth of patriotism. Both governed the sovereign, and with the sovereign the monarchy. Both filled the highest ecclesiastical office in the Peninsula, an office second in dignity and power only to the Papacy. Both were zealous patrons of the Inquisition. One recommended the expulsion of the Jews. The other inaugurated the persecution of the Moriscoes. Both commanded armies. Both founded institutions of learning. Both were regarded at Rome as the most valuable servants of the Holy See. Here, however, all resemblance ends. Mendoza belonged to the haughtiest of the Castilian aristocracy; he traced his lineage in a direct line to Roman patricians on one side and to the Gothic Dukes of Cantabria on the other; the Cid was his ancestor, as were also the Lords of Biscay; the blood of royalty coursed in his veins; he was the cousin of Ferdinand and Isabella; he was nearly related to the princely house of Infantado, whose duke took precedence of all Spanish grandees; more than seventy titles of nobility were in his family, which was the first in the Peninsula and one of the most celebrated in Europe.