The king, it seems, had made several wills. By one, executed at Burgos, in 1512, he had committed the government of Castile and Aragon to the infante Ferdinand during his brother Charles's absence. This young prince had been educated in Spain under the eye of his grand-father, who entertained a strong affection for him. The counsellors remonstrated in the plainest terms against this disposition of the regency. Ferdinand, they said, was too young to take the helm into his own hands. His appointment would be sure to create new factions in Castile; it would raise him up to be in a manner a rival of his brother, and kindle ambitious desires in his bosom, which could not fail to end in his disappointment, and perhaps destruction. [30]
The king, who would never have made such a devise in his better days, was more easily turned from his purpose now, than he would once have been. "To whom then," he asked, "shall I leave the regency?" "To Ximenes, archbishop of Toledo," they replied. Ferdinand turned away his face, apparently in displeasure; but after a few moments' silence rejoined, "It is well; he is certainly a good man, with honest intentions. He has no importunate friends or family to provide for. He owes everything to Queen Isabella and myself; and, as he has always been true to the interests of our family, I believe he will always remain so." [31]
He, however, could not so readily abandon the idea of some splendid establishment for his favorite grandson; and he proposed to settle on him the grand-masterships of the military orders. But to this his attendants again objected, on the same grounds as before; adding, that this powerful patronage was too great for any subject, and imploring him not to defeat the object which the late queen had so much at heart, of incorporating it with the crown. "Ferdinand will be left very poor then," exclaimed the king, with tears in his eyes. "He will have the good-will of his brother," replied one of his honest counsellors, "the best legacy your Highness can leave him." [32]
The testament, as finally arranged, settled the succession of Aragon and Naples on his daughter Joanna and her heirs. The administration of Castile during Charles's absence was intrusted to Ximenes, and that of Aragon to the king's natural son, the archbishop of Saragossa, whose good sense and popular manners made him acceptable to the people. He granted several places in the kingdom of Naples to the infante Ferdinand, with an annual stipend of fifty thousand ducats, chargeable on the public revenues. To his queen Germaine he left the yearly income of thirty thousand gold florins, stipulated by the marriage settlement, with five thousand a year more during widowhood. [33] The will contained, besides, several appropriations for pious and charitable purposes, but nothing worthy of particular note. [34] Notwithstanding the simplicity of the various provisions of the testament, it was so long, from the formalities and periphrases with which it was encumbered, that there was scarce time to transcribe it in season for the royal signature. On the evening of the 22d of January, 1516, he executed the instrument; and a few hours later, between one and two of the morning of the 23d, Ferdinand breathed his last. [35] The scene of this event was a small house belonging to the friars of Guadalupe. "In so wretched a tenement," exclaims Martyr, in his usual moralizing vein, "did this lord of so many lands close his eyes upon the world." [36]
Ferdinand was nearly sixty-four years old, of which forty-one had elapsed since he first swayed the sceptre of Castile, and thirty-seven since he held that of Aragon. A long reign; long enough, indeed, to see most of those whom he had honored and trusted of his subjects gathered to the dust, and a succession of contemporary monarchs come and disappear like shadows. [37] He died deeply lamented by his native subjects, who entertained a partiality natural towards their own hereditary sovereign. The event was regarded with very different feelings by the Castilian nobles, who calculated their gains on the transfer of the reins from such old and steady hands into those of a young and inexperienced master. The commons, however, who had felt the good effect of this curb on the nobility, in their own personal security, held his memory in reverence as that of a national benefactor. [38]
Ferdinand's remains were interred, agreeably to his orders, in Granada. A few of his most faithful adherents accompanied them; the greater part being deterred by a prudent caution of giving umbrage to Charles. [39] The funeral train, however, was swelled by contributions from the various towns through which it passed. At Cordova, especially, it is worthy of note, that the marquis of Priego, who had slender obligations to Ferdinand, came out with all his household to pay the last melancholy honors to his remains. They were received with similar respect in Granada, where the people, while they gazed on the sad spectacle, says Zurita, were naturally affected as they called to mind the pomp and splendor of his triumphal entry on the first occupation of the Moorish capital. [40]
By his dying injunctions, all unnecessary ostentation was interdicted at his funeral. His body was laid by the side of Isabella's in the monastery of the Alhambra; and the year following, [41] when the royal chapel of the metropolitan church was completed, they were both transported thither. A magnificent mausoleum of white marble was erected over them, by their grandson, Charles the Fifth. It was executed in a style worthy of the age. The sides were adorned with figures of angels and saints, richly sculptured in bas-relief. On the top reposed the effigies of the illustrious pair, whose titles and merits were commemorated in the following brief, and not very felicitous inscription.
"MAHOMETICAE SECTAE PROSTRATORES, ET HAERETICAE PERVICACIAE EXTINCTORES, FERNANDUS ARAGONUM, ET HELISABETA CASTELLAE, VIR ET UXOR UNANIMES, CATHOLICI APPELLATI, MARMOREO CLAUDUNTUR HOC TUMULO." [42]
King Ferdinand's personal appearance has been elsewhere noticed. "He was of the middle size," says a contemporary, who knew him well. "His complexion was fresh; his eyes bright and animated; his nose and mouth small and finely formed, and his teeth white; his forehead lofty and serene; with flowing hair of a bright chestnut color. His manners were courteous, and his countenance seldom clouded by anything like spleen or melancholy. He was grave in speech and action, and had a marvellous dignity of presence. His whole demeanor, in fine, was truly that of a great king." For this flattering portrait Ferdinand must have sat at an earlier and happier period of his life. [43]
His education, owing to the troubled state of the times, had been neglected in his boyhood, though he was early instructed in all the generous pastimes and exercises of chivalry. [44] He was esteemed one of the most perfect horsemen of his court. He led an active life, and the only kind of reading he appeared to relish was history. It was natural that so busy an actor on the great political theatre should have found peculiar interest and instruction in this study. [45]