Spain and Her Colonies, Compiled from the Best Authorities

by Unknown

The life of Fernan Gonzalez, the Warwick of medieval Spain, is almost as much overlaid with romantic legends as that of Roderic or Roland. The lives and deeds of his ancestors, and the origin of his ever-celebrated County of Castile, are involved in the utmost confusion and obscurity; but Fernan Gonzalez himself is at least a historical personage. He married Sancha, daughter of Sancho Abarca of Navarre, and their son, Garcia Fernandez, succeeded him as hereditary Count of Castile.

As early as the year 905, Sancho, a Christian chief of whose ancestors and predecessors much has been written, much surmised, and nothing is certainly known, was king or ruler of the little border state of Navarre. A prudent as well as a warlike sovereign, he fortified his capital city of Pamplona, and when his son, in alliance with Ordoño II. of Leon, was defeated by the Moslems at Val de Junquera, the Navarrese not only made good their retreat to that celebrated fortress, but succeeded in course of a short time in driving the Moslems out of their country. The grandson of this successful general was Sancho El Mayor—or the Great—the most powerful of the Christian princes in Spain (970-1035). Besides Navarre and Sobrarve he held the lordship of Aragon; in 1026, in right of his wife, Muña Elvira, he became king or count of Castile; while his successful interference in the affairs of Leon made him virtual master of all Christian Spain outside the limits of the quasi Frankish county of Catalonia.

Sancho the Great died in 1035, when his territories were divided, according to his will, among his four sons; and from this time forth the history of Navarre, so far as it is not included in the history of Aragon, of Castile, and of France, is a confused and dreary record of family quarrels, of plots and assassinations, of uncertain alliances, of broken treaties. The marriage of the Princess Berengaria with Richard I. of England, in 1191, failed to secure for Sancho V. the influence that he had hoped to secure: and with Sancho VI., who died in 1234, the male line of the house of Sancho Iniguez or Inigo, the founder of Navarre, was extinct. A French prince was chosen by the Navarrese to rule over them. And from the death of Sancho VI., in 1234, to the death of Charles the Bad, in 1387—one hundred and fifty years—the history of Navarre is that of France.

Bermudo III., who succeeded, on the death of his father, Alfonso V., in 1027, as king of Leon, was at once attacked by his powerful neighbors, and the little States were distracted by family quarrels and civil war until the death of Bermudo in battle, in 1037, when the male line of the house of Leon became extinct.

On the death of Bermudo III. in 1037, Ferdinand I., king of Castile, the second son of Sancho the Great, succeeded to the kingdom of Leon, and became, after over twenty years of civil war (1058), the most powerful monarch in all Spain. The Moslems offered but an uncertain and half-hearted resistance to his arms. For while the Christians were growing strong, the Moslem empire was already declining to its fall. And the decay of the Caliphate of Cordova, and the internal dissensions of the Arabs, enabled Ferdinand not only to recover all the territory that had been conquered by Almanzor, but to pursue the disheartened Moslem as far as Valencia, Toledo, and Coimbra. Ferdinand confirmed the Fueros of Alfonso V., and summoned a council at Coyanza (Valencia de Don Juan), over which, with his Queen Sancha, he presided in 1050. All the bishops and abbots, together with a certain number of lay nobles thus assembled ad restaurationem nostræ Christianitatis, proceeded to make decrees or canons, after the manner of the Councils of Toledo, of which the first seven were devoted to matters ecclesiastical, and the remainder connected with the civil government of the country. With territories thus recovered and augmented, with cities restored and fortified, Ferdinand determined to excel all his Christian predecessors, and to emulate the noble example of the Arab, by enriching his dominion, not with treasures of art or literature, with schools, with palaces, with manuscripts—but with the bones of as many martyrs as he could collect.

An army was raised for this sacred purpose, and the country of the Moors was once more invaded and harried by the Christian arms. Ibn Obeid of Seville, learning the objects of the invasion, offered Ferdinand every facility for research in his city; and a solemn commission of bishops and nobles were admitted within the walls to seek the body of Justus, one of the martyrs of Diocletian. But in spite of all the diligence of the Christians, and all the goodwill of the Arabs, the sacred remains could nowhere be found. At length the spirit of Saint Isidore removed the difficulty by appearing miraculously before the Commission, and offering his own bones in the place of those of Justus, which were destined, said he, to remain untouched at Seville. The Commission was satisfied. And the body of the great Metropolitan, “fragrant with balsamic odors,” was immediately removed to the Church of St. John the Baptist at Leon—to the great satisfaction of both Christians and Moors, in 1063.

It was on the occasion of the return of these blessed relics to the Christian capital that Ferdinand proclaimed the future division of his kingdom. For after all the success that had attended the Union of the dominions of Leon and Castile under the sole authority of Ferdinand, who rather perhaps for his sanctity than for his wisdom had earned the title of the Great, the king made the same grievous mistake that his father had done before him, in dividing his united territories at his death (1065) among his sons and daughters. To Sancho, the eldest son, he left the kingdom of Castile; to Alfonso, Leon and the Asturias; to Garcia, Galicia; to his younger daughter, Elvira, the town and district of Toro, and to her elder sister Urraca the famous border city of Zamora, the most debatable land in all Spain, and a strange heritage for a young lady. Thus Castile and Leon were once more separated; and the usual civil wars and family intrigues naturally followed. Alfonso, though not at first the most successful, survived all his rivals, and was at length proclaimed king of Leon and Castile.

But the successes and glories of Alfonso VI., such as they were, are overshadowed by the prowess of a Castilian hero, whose exploits form one of the most favorite chapters in the national history of Spain—the Christian knight with the Moslem title—Ruy Diaz, The Cid.

Two years before William of Normandy landed at Hastings, a Castilian knight, a youth who had already won for himself the proud title of The Challenger, from his reckless bravery and his success in single combat, is found leading the royal armies of Sancho of Castile against the enemy. The knight was Ruy Diaz de Bivar. The enemy was Alfonso VI. of Leon, the brother of Sancho, who was endeavoring to reunite the inheritance divided by his father, in the good old medieval fashion in Spain.

Of noble birth and parentage, a Castilian of the Castilians, Roderic or Ruy Diaz was born at Bivar, near Burgos, about the year 1040. His position in the army of Sancho was that of Alferez, in title the Standard-bearer, in effect the major-general or second in command, if not commander-in-chief of the king’s army.