Chapter IX: Introduction (1)

GENERAL VIEW OF THE STATE OF POETICAL AND RHETORICAL CULTIVATION
IN SPAIN DURING THE ABOVE PERIOD.

The union of the kingdoms of Castile and Arragon, in consequence of the marriage of Isabella, the heiress of the Castilian throne, with Ferdinand king of Arragon, forms an epoch in Spanish literature, as well as in Spanish power. Hitherto Spain had been occupied only with her own internal affairs. The monarchs contended for their prerogatives with the powerful barons of their respective states; and the two kingdoms waged war against each other. The only object which they pursued in common, was the overthrow of the Moorish principality of Granada, which was enabled to resist them, as long as their political jealousy of each other counter-balanced their mutual zeal for religion and conquest. Spain, in her detached situation to the west of the Pyrenees, never appeared so completely separated from the rest of Europe as in the middle of the fifteenth century. With Italy, Spain maintained no relations, except such as were purely ecclesiastical. A marked change, however, took place on the union of the crowns of Castile and Arragon, though the union of the two monarchies was not properly consolidated until after Ferdinand’s death, which happened in 1516. Since the year 1492, Granada had been a Castilian province. The poets had no longer the feats of the Zegris and Abencerrages to record; and the Spanish knights had no infidels to vanquish, unless they travelled to Africa in quest of them. If, however, they were successful in that quarter of the world, their victories did not present subjects of such interest to the Castilian muse as former achievements had afforded. The love of industry and social order, which distinguished the people of Arragon, at length extended to Castile; and the old chivalrous spirit declined in proportion as the use of gunpowder, which was at this period rapidly increasing, became more general. The manners of the Spaniards of both monarchies, had now approximated to those of the Italians; and the analogy between the Castilian and Italian languages, could not fail to be remarked, whenever opportunities for making that observation occurred. Ferdinand soon afforded such an opportunity; his ambition induced him to take an active part in the transactions of Italy, and his interference was attended with success. The victorious Gonsalvo Fernandez de Cordova, admired as the conqueror of Granada, and a second Cid, and surnamed, by way of distinction, _El gran Capitan_, presented the crown of Naples to his sovereign in the year 1504. The political union which then took place between Spain and Italy, and which continued longer than a century, paved the way for that influence of the Italian poetry on the Spanish, which soon after became manifest.

About the same period that Ferdinand and Isabella united their dominions, they also co-operated in the establishment of that terrible tribunal which soon became known throughout Europe by the name of the Spanish Inquisition, and which to the disgrace of human reason exercised during two centuries and a half its monstrous powers in their fullest extent. A crafty policy contrived to render religion its instrument, in subjugating to one common tyranny the reason and the rights of mankind; for the establishment of regal despotism in both kingdoms was the great object of this institution, and its whole organization corresponded with the end for which it was destined. The pope, who penetrated the design of the founders, viewed their proceedings with much dissatisfaction; but even the pope was obliged to support the pretended interest of the church, and to honour Ferdinand by bestowing on him, as a peculiar distinction, the title of “Catholic King.” Thus the court of Rome contributed to annul the privileges of the Cortes of Castile and Arragon, and to invest the whole powers of government, without limitation, in the hands of an absolute monarch: and thus did political artifice triumph over the energy of one of the noblest nations in the world, at the very moment when the genius of that nation had begun to expand, when the promising flower had burst forth from the bud, and was about to unfold itself in full vigour and beauty. A simultaneous and concordant cultivation of the different powers of the human mind was now as little to be hoped for in Spain as the improvement of her political constitution. Under these circumstances the literary genius of the country could not be expected to reach that high maturity of taste which always presupposes a certain degree of harmony in the moral and intellectual faculties. Poetic freedom was circumscribed by the same shackles which fettered moral liberty. Thoughts which could not be expressed without fear of the dungeon and the stake, were no longer materials for the poet to work on. His imagination instead of improving them into poetic ideas, and embodying them in beautiful verse, had to be taught to reject them. But the eloquence of prose was more completely bowed down under the inquisitorial yoke than poetry, because it was more closely allied to truth, which, of all things, was the most dreaded.

The yoke of this odious tribunal weighed, however, far less heavily on the imagination than on the other faculties of the mind; and it must be confessed that a wide field still remained open for the range of fancy, though the boundaries of religious doctrine were not permitted to be overstepped. To suppose that the Spanish inquisition could have entirely annihilated the poetic genius of the nation, it must also be supposed, that at the period of its establishment, there had existed a style of poetry altogether hostile to such an institution, and that the spirit of the inquisition was directly opposed to the spirit of the nation. But it would be forming a false notion of the horrors of the inquisition, to imagine that they were ever felt in Spain in the same manner as in other countries, and particularly in the Netherlands, where that tribunal was introduced hand in hand with foreign despotism. When the inquisition was established in Spain, it harmonized to all appearance, that is to say, as far as orthodox faith was concerned, with the prevailing opinions of the Spanish Christians. It was ostensibly directed not so much against heretics as against infidels, namely, Mahometans and Jews. Its operations were accordingly commenced by waging war against those infidels, for no sect of Christian heretics existed at that period in Spain, and the inquisition took care that none should be afterwards formed. To maintain the purity of the ancient faith was the avowed object of the inquisition; and its wrath was poured out on the unfortunate Jews, Moors, and Moriscos, (the descendants of the Moors), with the view of removing every blemish from the faith of a nation, which prided itself in its orthodoxy. This bigotted pride was a consequence of the contest maintained in Spain during four centuries and a half, between Catholic Christianity and Mahometanism. The Spanish Christians celebrated the conquest of Granada as the triumph of the church; and the inquisition, which at first excited terror, soon became an object of veneration with men in whose hearts religious enthusiasm was inseparably blended with patriotism.

This view of the subject may serve to explain how it happened in the sequel, and particularly during the reign of Philip II. that while, throughout all the rest of Europe men shuddered at the very name of the Spanish inquisition, the Spaniards still lived under it as happily and cheerfully as ever; and also how, from the operation of the same cause, the ecclesiastical shackles had not a more injurious effect on the developement of the poetic genius of the nation. The conduct of the inquisition was no subject of alarm to those who were confident that they never could have any personal concern with it; for the suspicion of deficiency in Catholic orthodoxy, the ground on which that tribunal acted, was more degrading in Spain than the most odious crimes in other countries. Before the establishment of the inquisition, fanaticism was so firmly rooted in the minds of the Spaniards, that all scepticism in matters of religion was abhorred as a deadly sin. He, however, who submitted with blind devotion to the decrees of the church, was held to have a clear conscience, and in that sort of clear conscience the Spaniards prided themselves. The inquisition disturbed the good Catholic as little in his social enjoyments, as criminal justice the citizen who lived in conformity with the laws. The Spaniard was cruel only to heretics and infidels, because he thought it his duty to hate them; but in the orthodox bosom of his native country, he was animated by a spirit of gaiety of which the literature of Spain presents abundant proofs. While the Duke of Alba in the Netherlands ruled with the axe of the executioner, Cervantes, in Spain, wrote his Don Quixote, and Lope de Vega, who himself held a post connected with the inquisition, produced his admirable comedies. The dramatic literature of Spain flourished with most brilliancy during the reigns of the three Philips, from 1556 to 1665, and that is precisely the period when the Spanish inquisition exercised its power with the greatest rigour and the most sanguinary cruelty. Many melancholy traces of fanaticism are certainly observable in the literature of Spain during the reigns of the three Philips; but those traces are so insulated, and the painful impression which they naturally produce on liberal minds is so far compensated, by the noblest traits of humanity, that to him, who, from reading the works of the Spanish poets, should turn to the perusal of the political history of the Spaniards during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and particularly to the history of their transactions in the Netherlands and America, it might well appear that he had become acquainted with two distinct nations.

Indeed, notwithstanding the generally prejudicial effects of the restrictions imposed by the inquisition on intellectual freedom, those restrictions could not fail, under the circumstances which have been described, to prove in one respect favourable to the polite literature of Spain. The poetic genius which, at the period of the establishment of this tribunal, was energetically developing itself throughout the Peninsula, was not now to be annihilated. Its strength was even augmented by that growing national pride, which the union of the Castilian and Arragonian monarchies fostered. During the period marked by the reign of Charles I. better known by his Germanic imperial title of Charles V. which was nearly half a century, namely, from the year 1516 to the year 1555, the Austrian and Spanish monarchies were also united, and Spain acquired rich possessions in a new quarter of the world. The Spanish arms were not so victorious under the three Philips as under Charles V. But, sacrificed as this gallant nation was to fanaticism and the most despicable of governments, its spirit never sunk under disaster, and its genius vented itself in the cultivation of poetry, because it was excluded by religious despotism from every graver study, except the scholastic philosophy of the convent. It is also to be considered, that the influence of the ever debasing despotism of the Spanish government could operate only gradually in extinguishing the energies of national genius. The bold manifestation of the spirit of freedom in Castile and Arragon on the accession of Charles V. was attended with discouraging results, because the nobility and the third estate did not unite in support of their common interests. Had that union existed, Spain would probably have presented the first model of a constitutional, and at the same time a vigorous monarchy. That honour was withheld by fate: but the genius of the Spanish people was not so easily suppressed as their political and religious freedom. Kings might rule as they pleased; they might madly shed the blood of their subjects, or waste the treasures drawn from America; but the people, who had yielded to despotism only for the sake of religion, continued in their hearts to be what they had always been, till the influence of time consummated their subjugation. The Spanish patriot, who fought in the cause of his king and country, was until then, in his own estimation, still a free man. Kings received homage in verse as well as in prose; but a court poetry, like that which existed in France in the reign of Lewis XIV. was never known in Spain. The kings of Spain, too, never bestowed any very liberal encouragement on the poetic literature of their country. Charles V. honoured a few Spanish and Italian poets with some degree of attention, according to the fashion of the princes of that age; for in the sixteenth century a poet was accounted an extremely useful man for business of every sort; but that sovereign seems to have taken a more particular interest in Italian than in Spanish literature. Philip II. from his joyless throne, occasionally cast a glance of favour on a man of talent; but restless ambition and blind bigotry occupied his gloomy mind, and deprived him of all susceptibility for the beautiful. His son, Philip III. though of a more amiable character, was too indolent to take a warm interest in any thing whatever. Philip IV. however, did more for Spanish literature than any of his predecessors since the time of John II. His taste for pomp and splendour, to which he thoughtlessly gave himself up, while decay and disorder preyed upon the vitals of the state, disposed him to favour the Spanish theatre. Calderon, whom he pensioned, was indebted to him for that leisure which enabled him to devote his life to dramatic poetry. But Calderon only improved on the labours of predecessors, who, without receiving the pay of kings, produced works which did honour to the nation, and were approved and rewarded by the public. Spanish literature owes nothing to kings, and has to thank only the popular spirit for all its brightest flowers. The drama, therefore, remained wholly national, even after the imitation of Italian forms had long prevailed in the lyric and epic poetry of Spain. Writers for the stage must of necessity obey the voice of a public possessing sufficient energy of character to condemn every piece which does not pay homage to the popular taste. The whole history of the Spanish theatre exhibits this dominion of the public over authors; and the particular taste of the dramatists being formed under the influence of the general poetic genius of the nation, they very willingly, like Lope de Vega, followed the stream, even though, like him, they well knew what the true theory of their art required. The cultivation of prose was more completely left to the individual taste of the authors; but any instance of encouragement from the throne was as uncommon with respect to it as to poetry. Antonio de Solis, who received a pension from Philip IV. as historiographer, for writing the History of Spanish America, was indebted for that honour in some measure to his reputation as a poet, and his various acquirements, but by no means for any particular esteem he had obtained on account of his talent for prose composition.

During the whole of this period, however, intellectual talents were never undervalued, either by the kings, or the nobles of Spain. In that country, as well as in Italy, the higher orders considered it a duty to seek distinction through learning, and poetry was the soul both of Spanish and Italian literature. Most of the Spanish poets of this period, if not of noble birth, belonged, at least, to families of consideration. Heroes, statesmen, ecclesiastics, all composed verses, and poetry was most intimately interwoven with all the relations of social life. No where did chivalrous gallantry so long survive the extinction of real chivalry as in Spain; and poetry was the exhaustless language of that gallantry, whether it displayed itself in secret love intrigues, or at public entertainments and festivals. Every characteristic national amusement, as for instance, a bull fight, proved an incitement to the writing of sonnets and romances. There are found in various Spanish poems of this period many expressions and allusions which have reference to popular amusements, but the poetic sense of which is only intelligible to readers who bear in their recollection the favourite diversions of the nation. The romantic intrigues which were common in high life, formed models for the intricate plots of the Spanish comedies; but no ordinary powers of invention were necessary to enable the dramatic author to maintain on the stage a competition with the scenes which actually occurred in society. Throughout the whole country, singing and dancing were essential ingredients in every amusement. Learned musical composition had, at this time, little attraction for the Spaniards; but wherever joy was, musicians were not wanting, and every dance had its song.

In the mean time the cultivation of the other fine arts, afforded little aid to Spanish poetry, as the overwhelming interest attached to it in its golden age directed the intellectual energies of the nation almost exclusively to that one object. All other liberal pursuits were consequently left far behind.

Spanish taste was, at this period, entirely left to form itself, being abandoned to the influence of Italian literature, and the authority of eminent national authors. The Italian system of academies found little favour in Spain. Perhaps the jealousy of the inquisition foreboded evil from meetings of men of letters. Be this as it may, Spanish literature sustained little loss by the want of those institutions. The Royal Academy for the Spanish language and literature was not established until the eighteenth century.

The intimate union, which, during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, subsisted between the eloquence of prose and poetry in Spain, renders a separate history of each unnecessary. A division may, however, be advantageously made in the whole body of the Spanish literature of this period, though the two sections cannot form two distinct epochs. From the introduction of the Italian style into Spanish poetry, until the decline of learning in the latter years of the reign of Philip IV. no literary revolution was experienced in Spain. The _corrupters of taste_, as certain writers who appeared in the latter half of this period are called by some of the Spanish critics, only continued a movement, the impulse of which had been given long before by various authors, and particularly by the dramatic poets. Several of these writers were contemporaries with authors who placed a high value on classical correctness, and yet they exercised a much greater influence over the general literature of Spain than the latter. To confound Calderon, who perfected the Spanish comedy, according to its true national character, with the corrupters of taste, is an idea which could only have been entertained in the eighteenth century, when it became customary in Spain, as every where else, to measure all productions of genius by the rules of French criticism. But at the same time, that Spanish poetry approximated as closely to the Italian, as the necessary connection of the former with the national style would permit, that national style, with all its faults and beauties, still maintained the pre-eminence; and the passion for Italian correctness again declined. This crisis in Spanish literature, occasioned by the struggle between Italian refinement and the bold eccentricity of the national manners, occurred in the age of Cervantes. At that time Lope de Vega shone with more brilliancy in the eyes of his countrymen than Cervantes, and the party of the former gained the victory and kept the field. The taking of a distinct view of the progress of poetry and eloquence in Spain, will therefore be facilitated, if the period of the influence of Cervantes and Lope de Vega be made an historical resting point. It is doubtless very remarkable, that Cervantes, who created an epoch in the general literature of Europe, should not have produced sufficient effect on the Literature of his own country, to justify the choosing him as the founder of a new epoch in its literary history. An opportunity will hereafter arise for reverting to this subject.[147]

FIRST SECTION.

_History of Spanish Poetry and Eloquence, from the Introduction
of the Italian Style to the Age of Cervantes and Lope de Vega._

OCCASION OF THE INTRODUCTION OF THE ITALIAN STYLE.

After the complete consolidation of the monarchies of Castile and Arragon by the accession of Charles of Austria, the grandson of Isabella and Ferdinand, there appears to have been, for a short time, a suspension of all literary activity in Spain. The political convulsions which then agitated the interior of the two united kingdoms, occupied the public mind too powerfully to allow any interest to be felt in calmer and more agreeable objects. But as soon as the civil contests were terminated by the success of the Austrian party, and the enterprising Charles, incited by Francis I. employed the force of his Spanish states to win new dominions in Italy, the poetic genius of Spain revived in all its pristine vigour. In the meantime, the ancient dialect of the Arragonian provinces began to be supplanted by the Castilian, which became the language of the state and of public business throughout Spain. Castile was then considered the heart of the whole monarchy. Madrid rose to the rank of the capital of Spain, and Saragossa sunk into the condition of a provincial town. It was therefore no very extraordinary event, that a Catalonian, whose maternal language still possessed a certain degree of poetic consideration, should, in connection with a Castilian, produce a revolution in Castilian poetry.

BOSCAN.

Juan Boscan Almogavèr, who, in concert with his friend Garcilaso de la Vega, introduced the Italian style into Castilian poetry, was born in Barcelona, towards the close of the fifteenth century. He belonged to one of the Patrician families of that city, of equal rank with the nobility of the country. Though possessing a liberal education, and sufficient fortune to enable him to gratify his inclination for literary studies, without regard to any secondary views, he embarked, notwithstanding, on his first outset in life for a short period in the profession of arms. He afterwards travelled, but the countries he visited are not mentioned in the brief notices which remain of him. If, however, it be supposed that he went at this time to Italy, and rendered himself intimately acquainted with the literature of that country, it appears that he was still far from entertaining the idea of transplanting the forms and manner of Italian poetry into Spain; for the Castilian verses, which he wrote in his youth, were all in the ancient lyric style, which, since the time of Juan de Mena no one had thought it necessary to try to improve. It was not until 1526, when, after having flourished at the court of Charles V. he had made a happy marriage, and was settled in his native city, that a Venetian induced him to imitate the Italian poetry in the Castilian language. The emperor resided for some time in Granada; and, among the foreign ministers who repaired to his court, was Andrea Navagero, the envoy from Venice, a man of great literary and historical knowledge, and, like every well-educated Italian of that age, a writer of canzoni and sonnets. Boscan, having formed an intimate friendship with this minister, was taught by him to view the Italian poetry and also the classical latin in quite a new light. The Spanish lyric poetry, which with all its gothic excrescences was still pleasing to the nation, if not so barbarous in his eyes as in those of his Italian friend, appeared to him, when compared with a sonnet of Petrarch, at least, in the point of good taste greatly inferior. He now readily perceived the nature and felt the value of the precision and correctness of the great works of antiquity. Animated by his new ideas, he fearlessly ventured to follow the counsel of Navagero, in spite of the menacing clamour of the friends of the old national forms. He took upon himself the character of a reformer of the lyric poetry of his nation, and commenced his labours by writing sonnets in the manner of Petrarch.

The metrical structure of the sonnet had long been known in Spain;[148] but the genius of Castilian poetry was adverse to that form, and the Spaniards had manifested very little predilection for any thing like the elegant correctness of Petrarch. Boscan had therefore elevated himself above the literature of his country, when he perceived that it was necessary to infuse a new spirit into Castilian poetry before it could be reconciled to the Italian forms. His friend Garcilaso de la Vega participated in this opinion. But thousands of voices were raised against the reformers. Some insisted that preference was to be given to the old Castilian verse on the ground of euphony. Others went further, and asserted that the ear could perceive no distinction between the new verse and prose. Finally, a third party discovered that Italian poetry was effeminate, and was fit only for Italians and women. Boscan relates that this violent opposition made him reflect seriously on the propriety of proceeding with his design; but as he was soon convinced of the futility of the reasons urged against him, he persisted in his undertaking. His party rapidly increased and soon obtained the superiority, not indeed throughout the whole mass of the public, but in that portion of society which was most enlightened and refined.[149]

The other circumstances of Boscan’s life, in so far as they are known, have little interest for the literary historian. The mature part of his age was chiefly spent in his native city Barcelona, or in the neighbouring country. The urbanity of his manners and his talents recommended him to the family of Alba, which was then one of the most brilliant of the noble houses of Castile, and to which the homage of the Spanish poets was from that time constantly paid. Boscan was for some time Ayo, or first governor of the young Don Fernando de Alba, who was afterwards the terror of the enemies of the Spanish monarchy. He appears, however, to have soon resigned this employment, in order to divide his time between study and the society of literary friends. The year in which he died is not exactly known; it is only ascertained that his death happened before the year 1544.[150] He prepared for the press a collection of his poems, to which he added those of his friend Garcilaso; but the work was not published until after his death.[151]

From the point at which Boscan found Castilian poetry, to that in which it was necessary it should be placed before he could open for himself a new path, the distance was considerable, and the transition was to be accomplished by a single bound. That he succeeded in this undertaking was owing not so much to his genius, as to a natural susceptibility for the real beauties of Italian and ancient poetry, accidentally excited at the favourable moment, and to a talent for the imitation of classical models, without altogether discarding that tone of feeling which was properly his own. To estimate, however, the full value of Boscan’s talent, it is not only necessary to examine the works by which he introduced a new style into Spanish poetry, but to take a retrospective view of the productions of the Castilian muse in the ancient manner. It is only by this comparison that a just conception can be formed of the surprise with which the Spaniards must have regarded the bold attempt of Boscan. He was the first among his countrymen who had an idea of classical perfection in works of imagination; and though the greater part of his poems fall below that standard, they all afford evidence of his endeavours to reach it. An aspiration so entirely unaffected and unembarrassed, had never been manifested by any previous Spanish poet. Between the kind of poetry which he introduced into his native land and that which he abandoned, there was no visible passage. But lest the merits of Boscan should be too highly rated, it is proper to observe, that at this time a reform of the Spanish poetry, precisely such as that to which his efforts gave birth, was, notwithstanding the clamour of his opponents, desired by the more cultivated part of the Spanish public, though, perhaps, there no where existed any distinct perception of the wished-for object. Had it been otherwise, Boscan must have stood alone, and the numerous poets of his nation, who have equalled or surpassed him in the new style, never would have followed his example.

The early productions of Boscan, which form the first book of his works, are scarcely distinguishable by any trace of superior delicacy or correctness from the poems of the same descriptions contained in the _Cancionero general_. The very title of the longest of these youthful essays, namely, _Mar de Amor_ (the Sea of Love) excites an anticipation of the fantastic flights of the old Spanish muse; and it is impossible to read the first strophe without being convinced that the author still adhered to the original character of Castilian song.[152] It was, however, only at the request of his friend Garcilaso de la Vega, who said that he received from these poems the same sort of pleasure as from pretty children, that Boscan renounced his intention of entirely suppressing them.

The second book of Boscan’s poems, contains _sonetos_ and _canciones_, in the style of the Italian _sonetti_ and _canzoni_. They all betray, in a greater or less degree, the disciple of the school of Petrarch; but the spirit of Spanish poetry still displays itself throughout the whole. The language, though it successfully imitates the precision of Petrarch, seldom attains the sweetly flowing melody of its model. In painting the feelings, the shadows are charged with stronger colours than the Italian Petrarchists of the sixteenth century permitted themselves to employ. Impetuous passion, which, with higher pretensions, was, on account of its very violence, less capable of commanding sympathy than a mild enthusiasm, strikingly distinguished Boscan’s poetry from that which was the object of his imitation. The contrast was farther increased by the constantly recurring picture of a struggle between passion and reason. But these were precisely the traits which disclosed the true Spanish character. It was not individual feeling that prevented Boscan from equalling the delicacy and softness of the Italian sonetto and canzone, for as his biography, and still more his other poems, shew he was a man of a very mild disposition. But it was necessary that the language of love, to appear natural and true to a Spaniard, should burn and rage. At the same time, to satisfy Spanish taste, reason was to be introduced to deliver her precepts amidst the storm of passion, to prove its force by her feebleness, and to give to lyric composition a moral gravity which was not desired by the Italians. In so far however as the Spanish character permitted the experiment to go, the fascinating tone of Petrarch was very happily seized by Boscan;[153] and in the expression of tender passion he has even sometimes surpassed the Italian poet.[154]

The greater part of the third book of these poems is occupied by a paraphrastic translation of the Greek poem of Hero and Leander. Nothing of the kind had been previously known in the Spanish language. The metrical form which Boscan chose for his translation, was that of rhymeless iambics, or an imitation of the blank verse of the Italians. The language is so pure and elegant, the versification so natural, and the tone of the narrative so soft, and at the same time so elevated, that it is impossible not to be pleased even with the prolixity which the influence of the taste for romantic poetry has introduced into this free translation. To this translation succeeds a poem in the Italian style, entitled a _Capitulo_, and some epistles in tercets. The _Capitulo_, as it is called, is a love elegy, abounding in pleasing ideas and images, but on the whole too much spun out, like most Italian poems of the same kind. It has also its full share of genuine Spanish hyperbole and amorous despair.[155] The best of his epistles is, “The Answer to Diego Mendoza,” who was himself the first epistolary poet among the Spaniards, and whom it will soon be necessary to notice more at length. After the new poetical career was opened, these authors vied in imitating the epistles of Horace; but it is plain that the elegiac tenderness of Tibullus was constantly present to the mind of Boscan. In his Answer to Mendoza, the descriptions of domestic and rural life charm by their exquisite delicacy, and possess a still more powerful interest than the moral reflections, though these are unaffected and noble, and conceived in the true spirit of didactic poetry.[156]

Boscan’s works conclude with a narrative poem in the Italian style, which has no other title than that which denotes the structure of the verse, namely, _octava rima_. Some ideas and images are borrowed from the Italian poets; but the whole invention and the execution of the greater part of the details belong to Boscan. The merit of the fable, however, is not great. A mythological allegory, describing the empire of love, forms the introduction to a poetical relation of a festal meeting of Venus, Cupid, and the other inhabitants of that imaginary region. Little Cupids are dispatched all over the world by Venus to defend her against the reproaches of unreasonable men, and to make known the real blessings of love. One of those winged envoys directs his course towards Barcelona, the natal city of the poet, gives a particular account of his mission to the fair ladies of that town, and takes the opportunity of saying many gallant things to them. As to the construction of the fable of this poem, Boscan certainly gave himself very little trouble. His object appears merely to have been to compose a romantic picture of greater extent than a sonnet or a cancion, and to make his countrymen sensible of the charm of descriptive poetry in the Italian manner. It is impossible not to admire the grace and facility with which Boscan has accomplished this purpose. The descriptions are so animated,[157] and all the details so elegant and engaging, that the tediousness of some of the parts is amply compensated by the happy execution of the whole. Light plays of fancy embellish the lyric and romantic passages; and, upon the whole, this is a work which no other of the same kind by later Spanish poets has excelled.[158]

If a comprehensive view be taken of the merits of Boscan, it will be impossible, notwithstanding the striking faults which appear in his works, and particularly in his sonnets, to withhold from him the title of the first classical poet of Spain. Some of his expressions are now antiquated, but upon the whole his language has continued a model for succeeding ages. Simplicity and dignity had never, in the same degree, and under a form so correct, been united with poetic truth and feeling by any previous Spanish author. The partizans of the old national poetry reproached him with being an imitator; but without the kind of imitation by which he naturalized in his language a taste for the literature of Italy and the ancient classics, it would have been impossible for Spanish poetry to have gained that field in which it afterwards competed with the Italian. That he did not obtrude upon his countrymen a kind of poetry irreconcilable with the genius of the language and the national character, is evident from the rapidity with which the new taste spread over the whole of Spain, and extended into Portugal, and from its duration in both kingdoms. The poetic innovators, at whose head Boscan stood, were certainly blameable, in so far as they wished to banish entirely the ancient Spanish style, which was also, in its own manner, susceptible of classical improvement. But it is doubtful whether the partizans of that style would have thought of perfecting it after classical models, had not the disciples of the Italian school unexpectedly shewn the high cultivation of which Spanish poetry was capable under new forms. This Boscan first made manifest, not by critical reasoning, but by example; and his modesty contributed not a little to attract to his party the more liberal minded of his countrymen. Had he commenced his reform by trying to beat down the old style with theoretical argument, or egotistical declamation, he would only have rendered himself an object of ridicule; for the public he had to deal with was not indisposed to improvement, but would not submit to have lessons read to it magisterially.

After Boscan, his friends, who participated in the fame of that reform to which he shewed the way, are justly entitled to the next place in the history of Spanish poetry.

GARCILASO DE LA VEGA.

The first Spanish poet who followed the example of Boscan was Garcilaso de la Vega, a young Castilian, descended from a family of consideration in Toledo, and born, according to the statements of different authors, either in 1500 or 1503. His poetic talent was early developed, and he had written several lyric pieces in the old Spanish style, when his acquaintance with Boscan, which soon grew into friendship, commenced. The character of the poetry of the ancients and of Italy was then seen by him in a new light. He proceeded with ardour to the study of classical models, and of Petrarch and Virgil in particular. The improvement of pastoral poetry in his native tongue, appears to have been his first object. But it was his lot to follow the restless profession of arms; and the wars of Charles V. carried him abroad, and dragged him from country to country. In the year 1529, he distinguished himself in the Spanish corps, which was attached to the imperial army opposed to the Turks. While in Vienna he was involved in a romantic intrigue, between a near relation of his own and a lady of the court. The imperial dignity, it appears, was conceived to be compromised by this intrigue, and Garcilaso was punished for his interference by imprisonment in an Island of the Danube. There he composed one of his canciones, in which he bewails his destiny, but at the same time celebrates the Danube and the countries through which it flows.[159] His imprisonment probably was not of long duration. In the year 1535, he served in the adventurous expedition of Charles V. against Tunis, in which he acquired both glory and wounds. In Naples and Sicily, he devoted, as far as circumstances would permit, his moments of relaxation to poetry. He execrated war, and exerted all the powers of his imagination in painting an Arcadian pastoral life, but still remained a soldier.[160] It may be presumed, however, that his military talents were not inconsiderable, for when the imperial army in the year 1536, penetrated into the South of France, Garcilaso de la Vega, who could then be only thirty-three, or at most thirty-six years of age, commanded eleven companies of infantry. That campaign, which did not terminate so fortunately as it commenced, was the last to Garcilaso, and tore him from the world in the bloom of life. The emperor in person ordered him to take by assault, a fort, the garrison of which harrassed the army in its retreat. Garcilaso executed this command with more gallantry than prudence. He wished to be the first to scale the walls. He attained his object, but was struck with a stone on the head, and thrown down from the ramparts. Being mortally wounded, he was removed to Nice, where, a few weeks after, he died.

It would be difficult to discover from the works of Garcilaso, that the author had spent a considerable portion of his short life in camps, and had died in the bed of military honour, the victim of his courage; for he approaches even more closely than Boscan to the tenderness of Petrarch. The general tone of his poetry is so soft and melancholy, that it is only by occasional characteristic traits, that the Spaniard is recognized; but it must be confessed that when such passages do occur, the exaggeration is striking enough.[161] In his sonnets, which are not numerous, the imitation of Petrarch is obvious; but he sometimes betrays that affectation of wit, which was still in Spain regarded as an ingenious manner of expressing vehement and profound passion.[162] One however exhibits throughout a delicacy of style and sweetness of manner, equalled by few pieces of the same kind, in the Spanish language.[163] He was not equally successful in seizing the character of the Italian canzone, of which he, as well as Boscan, was an imitator; and his reputation rests chiefly on his pastoral poems, which therefore deserve to be more particularly noticed.

Since the rude dramatic eclogues of Juan de la Enzina pastoral poetry had made no progress in Spain. But Garcilaso de la Vega imitated Virgil and Sanazzar, and so happily united the romantic character with the correctness of the ancients, that his eclogues, though only one of them can be regarded as a masterpiece, surpass all Italian poems of the kind, those in the Arcadia of Sanazzar alone excepted. The fine Neapolitan sky appears to have had the same influence on Garcilaso as on Virgil and Sanazzar; and he seems to have regarded Naples as his poetical country. The first of his eclogues is by far the most beautiful, and marks an epoch in Spanish pastoral poetry. The whole composition has the metrical form of an Italian canzone. The invention is very simple. In the four introductory strophes, in which is interwoven a dedication to the Viceroy of Naples, Don Pedro de Toledo, Marquis of Villafranca, the author describes, with all the simplicity which belongs to true pastoral poetry, the meeting of two shepherds, Salicio and Nemoroso, who alternately give vent to their feelings in melancholy strains. These elegiac songs reply to each other without interruption, and the relation subsisting between them gives to the whole lyric composition a proper consistence and unity. This is all the plan of the eclogue. But the glow of enthusiastic feeling, the happy choice of expression, and the harmony of versification so completely satisfactory to the ear, to be found in almost every line of these songs of sorrow, cannot fail to give delight to every mind susceptible of elegiac and beauty. Accordingly the Spanish critics are nearly unanimous in pronouncing this eclogue one of the finest works in their language. The subject of the first song is the infidelity--of the second, the death of a mistress; and the latter complaint appears to be founded in fact. But Garcilaso would have better secured the sympathy of the more scrupulous Spanish reader, had he entirely passed over the cause of the lamented fair one’s decease. The lady whom he describes as a pastoral nymph, lost her life it seems in childbed; for an apostrophe of the complaining shepherd to Lucina, indicates plainly enough the nature of her death. But is the affected delicacy which takes offence at a trait so truly natural and pathetic, worthy of the attention of an author? In the first strain in which the shepherd Salicio deplores the infidelity of his mistress, the interest appears to be raised as far as it is possible to carry it.[164] Passion is here elevated to the highest pitch, and then lost in a most affecting self sacrifice.[165] But the song in which Nemoroso laments the death of his mistress, even surpasses the former in elegiac force, perhaps because it possesses greater softness. In retracing his recollections the mourner draws a series of melancholy pictures which have an indescribable charm. The beauty of the poem rises with the description of the beauty of the departed shepherdess.[166] The passage in which Nemoroso relates how he carries in his bosom a lock of his Eliza’s hair, from which he is never separated--how when alone he spreads it out, weeps over it, dries it with his sighs, and then examines and counts every single hair--is unexampled either in ancient or modern literature.[167] Occasional imitations of Virgil have been pointed out, but they harmonize so completely with the romantic spirit of the poem, that were it not for the particular references which critics have made, they would in general escape the notice of even the most erudite. The poem, as a whole, is evidently the genuine offspring of the author’s soul. Materials of an affecting but prosaic nature are, by his art, converted into the most graceful and impressive poetry.

As Garcilaso only imitated the ancients by the introduction of certain ideas and images, and not in the structure of his eclogues, he considered himself at liberty to vary their form at pleasure. But here his good taste abandoned him. The second and longest of his eclogues is an unnatural mixture of heterogeneous styles. An unfortunate shepherd deplores his unsuccessful love. Another shepherd joins him, and their conversation proceeds unconstrained in a romantic pastoral tone; but it is impossible to discover any reason for the changes which take place in the verse. Tercets are succeeded by rhymeless iambics, after which the tercets re-appear and are followed by the syllabic measure of a canzone. The simple dialogue suddenly becomes dramatic. The fair huntress, whose indifference is the subject of the first shepherd’s lament, appears upon the scene. The lover seizes and refuses to let her go, until she swears to listen to his addresses. She makes the required vow, and when at liberty flies. The despair of the shepherd then becomes frenzy; and a third shepherd, who has in the mean time arrived, enters into conversation with the one who first joined the unhappy lover, on the means of restoring him to reason. The author seizes this opportunity to convert his eclogue into a most unseasonable eulogium on the house of Alba. One of the shepherds proposes that medical assistance should be obtained, and mentions a physician named Severo; but this name is assigned to a learned friend of Garcilaso and the Alba family. Nothing more is necessary, according to the critical conception of the author, to warrant the making a poetical digression from his account of the merits of the physician, whose miraculous skill is to recover the frantic shepherd, to the history of the house of Alba, which he details in iambic blank verse.

In the third and last of Garcilaso’s eclogues, the genuine pastoral character is resumed. The lyric dialogue in octaves, or Italian stanzas, pleasingly harmonizes with the soft description of amatory sorrows given in this poem.

Garcilaso made essays in other kinds of poetry, but with less success. An elegy written to console the Duke of Alba for the death of his brother, is an imitation, or rather a translation of an Italian poem by Frascatoro, and is at once cold and verbose. More of interest belongs to another elegy which is addressed to Boscan, and which the author wrote at the foot of Mount Etna. Mythological recollections excited by that classic ground, melancholy complaints of the miseries of war, and tender anxieties for a loved object in the poet’s native land, diffuse a charm over the whole of this elegant poem, which is besides remarkable for comparisons and images full of novelty and truth.[168]

Garcilaso is also the author of a small epistle in which he has endeavoured to seize the true horatian tone. It is not sufficiently important to deserve particular notice, but it is easy to recognize in it the fine tact of this author, to whom the critic, however severely he may judge his faults, cannot deny the title of the second classic poet of Spain.

DIEGO DE MENDOZA.

The third classic poet, and at the same time the first classic prose writer of Spain, is Don Diego Hurtado de Mendoza,[169] a native of Granada, where he was born in the beginning of the sixteenth century, but in what year is not known. Descended from one of the first familes of the country, he had before him the prospect of high honours, which, as he was one of five children, his parents destined him to reach through the church. Being educated for the clerical profession, he received what was then considered a learned education. Besides the classical languages of antiquity, he acquired the Hebrew and Arabic. At the university of Salamanca, he studied scholastic philosophy, theology, and ecclesiastical law. While yet a student he was the inventor of the comic romance or novel, for it was at Salamanca that he wrote his celebrated work, the Life of Lazarillo de Tormes. Having become as conspicuous for a vigorous and sound understanding as for his wit and learning, the Emperor Charles V. who perceived that his talents might be employed with advantage in public business, drew him from his studies. He had not long left the university when he was appointed imperial envoy to Venice. He availed himself of the opportunities which this situation afforded to cultivate an intercourse with learned Italians, and to obtain an intimate knowledge of the spirit of Italian literature. Before his departure for Italy, he appears to have formed an acquaintance with Boscan; but he was patriot enough not to despise the old Spanish poetry. Though he loved the Italian poets, he preferred the ancients, and in particular Horace, who, like himself a man of the world, might occasionally assist him in his journey through the slippery path of political life; and certainly few poets could have divided themselves between literature and politics with as much dexterity as Mendoza. He was, however, far from being a cringing courtier. His low opinion of diplomatic dignity is stated frankly, and even somewhat coarsely, in one of his epistles, in which he exclaims:--“O these ambassadors, the perfect ninnies! when kings wish to cheat they begin with us. Our best business is to take care that we do no harm, and indeed never to do or say any thing that we may not run the risk of making ourselves understood.”[170] The ambassador of a prince of such deep dissimulation as Charles V. might naturally enough form an unfavourable opinion of his office; but he who could speak his mind in this manner, even when at his post, must have retained some of the spirit of old Spanish freedom.

The emperor made no mistake in the choice of his ambassador, of whose turn of thinking he doubtless was not ignorant, but on the exercise of whose talents he knew he could rely. He considered him the fittest person that could be selected to go to the council of Trent, and recommend, by an elegant manner, the truths he wished to be told to the assembled fathers in the name of the Spanish nation. This commission Mendoza executed to the satisfaction of the emperor. The speech which he delivered before the council in 1545 was highly admired, and Charles was convinced that it was impossible to confide the affairs of Italy to better hands. In the year 1547, Mendoza appeared at the papal court, then the centre of all political intrigues, as imperial ambassador, and invested with powers which rendered him the terror of the French party in Italy. The emperor at the same time appointed him captain-general and governor of Sienna, and other strong places in Tuscany. He was ordered to humble the pope, Paul III. even in his own court; and to repress, by force, the movements of the restless Florentines, who still hoped, under the protection of France, to shake off the yoke of the Medicis. A man of less firmness of character would have been totally unfit for such a task; but the terrible energy with which Mendoza performed it, exasperated in the highest degree the opposite party, and more particularly the Florentines. The repeated insurrections in Tuscany could not be suppressed without measures of great severity, and Mendoza was consequently detested as a tyrant by all Italians who were not reconciled to the introduction of Spanish garrisons. In Sienna he was constantly exposed to assassination; and on one occasion, a musket ball directed against him killed the horse on which he rode. His intrepidity, however, was not to be shaken, and he continued to administer his difficult government until Paul III. died, and was succeeded by Julius III. a pope inclined to the Spanish party. The new pope wishing to bestow on Mendoza a particular mark of respect, appointed him Gonfalonier, or Standard-bearer to the church. In this character, Mendoza marched against the rebels in the ecclesiastical territories, and made them submit to the pope.