[1275-1295 A.D.]
Alfonso’s eldest son, Ferdinand de la Cerda, died before his father in a campaign against the Moors, who had attacked and defeated the governor of Algeciras in his fortified camp and conquered and slain the archbishop Sancho of Toledo, a brother of King Pedro III of Aragon, who marched against them (1275). A decree solemnly promulgated by the king in accordance with ancient Spanish law declared the second son Sancho heir to the throne, regardless of the fact that the dead man had left two sons, Ferdinand and Alfonso. But his widow, Blanche, daughter of St. Louis of France, now came forward in defence of her sons’ rights and her claims were powerfully supported both by her brother Philip III and by her stepmother Iolanthe, a sister of Peter III of Aragon. Thereupon a war ensued, which outlasted Alfonso’s reign and threw Castile into the greatest disorder and party strife. The king of France, with whom his sister sought refuge and help, took up the cause of his two nephews, now living in Aragon, and for several years conducted a destructive war against Alfonso on the borders of Navarre and Castile. The attempted intervention of the pope had no effect. The situation grew still worse when the king, having quarrelled with his son Sancho, wished to proceed to a partition. This plan was opposed by the members of the royal house and by a great part of the nobles. At an assembly at Valladolid Sancho was declared heir to the throne and regent, and invested with the government of the kingdom in his father’s stead (1282). Forsaken by his family and the estates, Alfonso called in the aid of Abu Yusuf of Morocco, while Sancho, disinherited and laid under a ban by his father in his turn, entered into an alliance with the emir of Granada. Thus, through the schism in the royal house, the power of the Moors in southern Spain was once more strengthened. At the same time the unhappy party wars in Castile itself led to the demoralisation of the people and the increase of the power of the nobles.[f]
Burke gives the following picturesque, if perhaps somewhat overdrawn estimate of Alfonso: “For nigh on five centuries all that was learned and all that was refined in Spain was found among the Arabs of Andalus. But on the taking of Seville by St. Ferdinand, the centre of gravity was completely changed. In the thirteenth century, Spain was passing through a great social and intellectual revolution, and the first man of intellectual Spain was Alfonso of Castile. If his royal highness, the heir apparent to the crown of England, were a senior wrangler, and a double first-class man at the English universities; if he were called upon to fill the post of Astronomer Royal of England, in default of any other man in the kingdom worthy even to be compared with him in that department of science; if he had written a more brilliant history than Macaulay, and a finer poem than Tennyson; if he were fit to teach Wagner music, and Cayley mathematics; and if in the intervals of his studies he had found time to codify the entire laws of England into a digest which might endure for six hundred years to come: then, and only then, would the practical pre-eminence of his intellectual attainments, in modern England, represent the practical pre-eminence of the sabiduria of Alfonso X, in mediæval Spain. No Spaniard but Isidore of Seville, and no sovereign of any age or nation, not even Alfred the Great, so much surpassed all his contemporaries in learning as the king of Leon and Castile; and the Siete Partidas is a work which as great a scholar as Isidore, and as great a statesman as Alfred, might well have been proud to own. But learning, or even lawgiving is not wisdom, and many a wiser and better king than Alfonso has performed his most elaborate calculations on his ten fingers, and signed his name with the pommel of his sword.”[d]
This was still more apparent when, after Alfonso’s death, Sancho IV succeeded to the kingly power (1284). The families of Lara and Haro, with their vast wealth and the great number of their vassals, had attained such overwhelming power that the king was quite subordinate to them. Only their mutual jealousies and conflicting desire for rule made it possible for him to still preserve some power and authority over them; but if he favoured one party he had the other for his bitterest enemy.
At an assembly of the estates (1288) Lopez de Haro, the head of this family, whose daughter Don Juan, Sancho’s brother and enemy, had married, became so excited that he not only flung insults at the king, but even threatened him with his sword. Enraged at this arrogance Sancho’s followers slew the insolent noble before his eyes. The renewal of the civil war was the consequence, for the son and brother of the victim fled to Aragon and joined the party of La Cerda for the overthrow of Sancho. Don Juan in his hatred for his brother so far forgot himself as to join Abu Yakub, and marched at the head of a Moorish army against the fortress of Tarifa, which was defended by the brave Alfonso Perez de Guzman. In vain, however, did he seek to compel the commander to surrender by threatening to murder the latter’s son, whom he had taken prisoner; with the heroic spirit of a Brutus, Guzman himself threw down a sword from the wall, and Don Juan, furious at his contempt, was inhuman enough, as it is said, to stab the son before his father’s eyes (1294). Sancho hurried to the rescue and saved the beleaguered town. Not long after, the king died (1295), and such a storm broke from all sides against the Castilian kingdom that its dissolution or dismemberment seemed almost unavoidable.
[1295-1312 A.D.]
As Sancho’s son Ferdinand IV, whom he had appointed his successor, was still under age, and the marriage of his mother Maria de Molina was regarded as illegal, not only did the two infantes, Don Juan and Alfonso’s brother Henry, hitherto kept in captivity at Naples, lay claim, the former to the crown and the latter to the regency, but Alfonso de la Cerda came back across the Pyrenees from his sojourn at the French court and, supported by James II, the king of Aragon, and the powerful nobles of the families of Lara and Haro, also appeared as a pretender. At the same time the kings of Portugal and Granada sought to take advantage of the discordant condition, and the pope refused to grant a recognition of legitimacy.
But the prudence and governing talents of Maria de Molina, to whom the king had entrusted the regency, met all these difficulties with skill and success. She managed to divide the infantes by conceding to the elder of them, the feeble Henry, a share in the government; by a double marriage she attached the powerful king Diniz of Portugal to the royal house of Castile; to the Aragonese, the protector of the prince de la Cerda, she offered so successful and so obstinate a resistance that the union or hermandad of the estates of his kingdom compelled him to make peace with Castile; she prevailed on the pope to declare her marriage lawful and the king’s birth legitimate, and she won over the estates by lowering the taxes. It is true that fresh troubles afterwards broke out when Ferdinand IV began to reign in his own name (1305); at last, however, by the Treaty of Campillo, the long dispute about the succession was adjusted, and Ferdinand remained in possession of the throne while the princes Ferdinand and Alfonso de la Cerda were indemnified with revenues and feudal lordships. The latter indeed preferred to live as a refugee in Germany, rather than give up the kingly title, but his son, the founder of the ducal house of Medina Sidonia, submitted to the stipulations of Campillo. But Castile had been too long distracted by civil strife, and men’s minds were too much demoralised for peace and tranquillity to return at once without further disturbance. Neither was Ferdinand IV exactly the man to rally the different parties round his throne. His cruelty and the violence of his disposition called forth enmity and hatred and increased the discontent and variance. Jealousy and dissension amongst the grandees were the chief cause why a campaign entered upon in conjunction with the Aragonese king against the emir Mulei Nazar of Granada had no success. On this occasion Ferdinand laid before the pope a complaint against his uncle Don Juan, the soul of all hostile intrigues, charging him with having an understanding with the infidels, and he procured a judicial inquiry, the issue of which he did not, however, live to see.[f]
The story of Ferdinand’s death may be told in the following translation from the old Spanish historian Mariana: