TO THE MONUMENT OF THE KING AT SEVILLE."I vow to God, I quake with my surprise!Could I describe it, I would give a crown—And who, that gazes on it in the town,But stands aghast to see its woodrous size:Each part a million cost, I should devise;What pity't is, ere centuries have flown,Old Time will mercilessly cast it down!Thou rival'st Rome, O Seville, in my eves!I bet, the soul of him who's dead and blest,To dwell within this sumptuous monument,Has left the seats of sempiternal rest!"A fellow tall, on deeds of valour bent,My exclamation heard, "Bravo!" he cried,"Sir Soldier, what you say is true, I vow,And he who says the contrary has lied!"With that, he pulls his hat upon his brow,Upon his sword's hilt he his hand does lay,And frowns—and—nothing does, but walks away.[65]
TO THE MONUMENT OF THE KING AT SEVILLE."I vow to God, I quake with my surprise!Could I describe it, I would give a crown—And who, that gazes on it in the town,But stands aghast to see its woodrous size:Each part a million cost, I should devise;What pity't is, ere centuries have flown,Old Time will mercilessly cast it down!Thou rival'st Rome, O Seville, in my eves!I bet, the soul of him who's dead and blest,To dwell within this sumptuous monument,Has left the seats of sempiternal rest!"A fellow tall, on deeds of valour bent,My exclamation heard, "Bravo!" he cried,"Sir Soldier, what you say is true, I vow,And he who says the contrary has lied!"With that, he pulls his hat upon his brow,Upon his sword's hilt he his hand does lay,And frowns—and—nothing does, but walks away.[65]
TO THE MONUMENT OF THE KING AT SEVILLE.
"I vow to God, I quake with my surprise!Could I describe it, I would give a crown—And who, that gazes on it in the town,But stands aghast to see its woodrous size:Each part a million cost, I should devise;What pity't is, ere centuries have flown,Old Time will mercilessly cast it down!Thou rival'st Rome, O Seville, in my eves!I bet, the soul of him who's dead and blest,To dwell within this sumptuous monument,Has left the seats of sempiternal rest!"A fellow tall, on deeds of valour bent,My exclamation heard, "Bravo!" he cried,"Sir Soldier, what you say is true, I vow,And he who says the contrary has lied!"With that, he pulls his hat upon his brow,Upon his sword's hilt he his hand does lay,And frowns—and—nothing does, but walks away.[65]
The financial occupations of Cervantes at Seville were full of various annoyances; and it seems to have been his destiny at all times, to find his life beset with various forms of adversity. He was accused of malversation in the employment of monies entrusted to him. His poverty was his best defence, but it required other circumstances to prove hisinnocence, and his honest heart and lofty soul must have been tortured by all the detail of accusation and defence. Viardôt has, by examining the archives of Valladolid, Seville, and Madrid, found traces of various circumstances, which he details. In themselves some of them scarcely deserve record, except as happening to Cervantes, and showing how like the equally unfortunate but more imprudent Hums, he was occupied by transactions antipathetic to his tastes and vocation. The first circumstance recorded by Viardôt is indeed a mere mercantile casualty, full of annoyance at the time, but whose effects even to the sufferer, vanishes like footsteps in the sand, when the next tide flows.
Towards the end of 1594, while he was settling at Seville the accounts of his commissariat, and calling in with much difficulty several sums in arrear, he forwarded the receipts to thecontaduria mayorof Madrid, in bills of exchange drawn upon Seville. One of these sums, arising from the taxation of the district of Velez-Malaga, amounting to 7400 rials, (little more than 70l.) was intrusted by him in specie to a merchant of Seville named Simon Freire de Lima, who undertook to pay it into the treasury at Madrid. It was not paid, and Cervantes was forced to make a journey to the capital to demand from Friere the sum in question; but this man meanwhile became bankrupt, and had tied from Spain. Cervantes hastened back to Seville, and found the property of his debtor seized on by other creditors. He addressed a request to the king, and a decree waspublished on the 7th of August 1595; ordering doctor Bernardo de Olmedilla; judge oflos Gradosat Seville; to take by privilege on the goods of Friere; the sum intrusted to him by Cervantes. This was done, and the money was sent by the judge to the general treasurer, don Pedro Mesia de Tobar; in a bill of exchange drawn on the 22d of November 1596.
The next anecdote is of more interest; and displays the style in which justice was carried on in Spain. Cervantes wrote from his heart and from hitter experience; when he introduces; in one of his tales, the arrival of a corregidor at an inn; and says, "The inn-keeper and his wife were both frightened to death, for as when comets appear they always engender fear of disaster, so when the officers of justice enter a house of a sudden and unexpectedly, they alarm and agitate the consciences even of the innocent." It appears that at this time the tribunal of thecontaduriaexamined the treasury accounts with the greatest severity, emptied as it had been by the various wars which had been carried and by financial experiments which had failed.1597.Ætat.50.The inspector-general, of whom Cervantes was merely the agent, was sent for to Madrid to give in his accounts. He represented that the documents which served as vouchers were at Seville in the hands of Cervantes; upon this, without other form of trial, a royal order was sent to arrest him, and to send him under escort to the prison of the capital, where he was to be disposed of as the tribunal of accounts saw fit. Cervantes was accordingly thrown in prison. The deficit of which he was accused amounted only to 2644 rials, not quite 30l. He offered security for this sum, and was set at liberty, on condition that in thirty days he should appear before thecontaduria, and liquidate his accounts. In all this, it is evident that no real accusation was levelled against Cervantes, and that it was only the clumsy and arbitrary proceedings of Spanish law that occasioned his imprisonment.
Some years after the claim of the treasury was revived; the inspector of Baza, Gaspar Osorio de Tejada, sent in his accounts, at the end of 1602; these included an acknowledgment from Cervantes, proving, that sum had been received by him in 1594, when he was commissioned to recover claims in arrear on that town and district.1602.Ætat.55.Having consulted on this point, the judges of the court of the treasury made a report, dated Valladolid, January the 24th, 1603, in which they gave an account of the arrest of Cervantes in 1597 for this same sum, and his conditional enlargement, adding that since then he had not appeared before them.1603.Ætat.56.It appears that in this very year, 1603, Cervantes removed with his family to Valladolid, where Philip III. resided with his court. There is no trace, however, of any proceedings against him; and it is evident that there was proof of his honesty sufficient to satisfy the officers of the treasury; and his honour in this and every other transaction stands clear. His poverty was the great and clinging evil of his life. Many housekeeping accounts, and notes, and bills, have been discovered at Valladolid, proving the distress which he and his family suffered. In 1603 there is a memorandum showing that his sister, donna Andrea, was engaged in superintending the household and wardrobe of a don Pedro de Toledo Osorio, marquis of Villafranca, lately returned from an expedition to Algiers.
All these dates and papers seem to cast a gleam of light upon the history of Cervantes; yet after all they but render the "darkness visible," and these tiny lights becoming extinguished, we grope blinder than ever. It is generally supposed that Cervantes left Seville at the time of the death of Philip II. (1599). We find that he was at Valladolid in 1603, but both before and after this date it would appear that he resided in the province of La Mancha. His perfect knowledge of that country, his familiarity with its peculiarities, the lakes of Ruydera, the cave of Motesinos, the position of the fulling mills, and other places mentioned in "Don Quixote," shows an intimate knowledge ofthe face of the country, to be gained only by a residence. The common conjecture is that he resided for several years in La Mancha, where he had several relations, acting as agent for various persons, and executing such commissions as were intrusted to him, and which brought in some small income. But adversity followed him here also, and again he became an inmate of a prison; wherefore cannot be discovered. The people of La Mancha were singularly quarrelsome. About this time they entered on lawsuits and contentions one with another, concerning some silly rights of precedence, which they pursued with such acrimony and vehemence, that the population of the province became diminished.
To some such litigious proceeding Cervantes was probably the victim. It has been said that this disaster happened at Toboso, on account of a sarcasm he had uttered against a woman, and that her relations thus avenged her. The common and the probable notion, however, is that the inhabitants of the village of Argamasilla de Alba threw him into prison, being incensed against him, either because he claimed the arrears of tithes due to the grand prior of San Juan, or because he interfered with their system of irrigation, by turning aside a portion of the waters of the Guadiana, for the purpose of preparing saltpetre. To this day they show in Argamasilla de Alba an old house called Casa de Medrano, which immemorial tradition declares to have been the prison of Cervantes. It seems likely that he was confined for some time; and he was forced to have recourse to his uncle don Juan Barnabé de Saavedra, a citizen of Alcazar de San Juan, asking for protection and assistance. We are told that the expressions of a letter written by Cervantes to this uncle are remembered, and that it began with these words: "Long days and short but sleepless nights wear me out in this prison, or rather let me call it cavern." In record of his ill-treatment here, he at the same time placed the residence of Don Quixote, in Argamasilla de Alba and refrained frommentioning the name, saying, "In a village of La Mancha, whose name I do not wish to recollect."
It is impossible here not to remember the beautiful image of lord Bacon, that calamity acts on the high-minded as the crushing of perfumes, pressing the innate virtue out of each: for in this prison Cervantes wrote "Don Quixote." When we consider the ill-fortune that pursued him—his military career, which left him maimed and unrewarded—his captivity in Algiers, where he exerted a spirit of resistance sublime in its fearlessness and its risks, and whence he returned a beggar—his life spent as a sort of clerk where he gained his scanty daily bread, at the mercy of the arbitrary and litigious ministers of Spanish justice—and that he endured all the distresses incident to straitened means and friendlessness; when we consider that the end of all was to throw him into a squalid prison in an obscure village, where he must have felt all hopes, not only of advancement, but of attaining the means of existence, fail him—where in a dreary cavern-like chamber he passed long days and sleepless nights, weary and worn out:—when we think that he was now fifty-six years of age, a period when the fire of life burns dim—and then, when we compare all these sad depressing circumstances with the very outset of "Don Quixote," we feel that there must have been something divine in the spirit of this man, which could place a soul within the ribs of death, and vivify darkness and suffering with so animated a creation.
He himself speaks more modestly. "What," he says, in his preface to "Don Quixote," "could my barren and uncultivated understanding engender except the history of an offspring, dry, tough, and whimsical, and full of various fancies which had never entered the imagination of another?—like one born in prison, where every discomfort dwells, and every odious sound has birth."
With this we turn to the book itself, and it seems to us that ifCervantes had never written more than the first chapter, his genius and originality had been acknowledged by all. There is so much life, such minute yet clear and characteristic painting—such an outset, promising so much, and in itself performing so much—that, but for its wisdom, it seems written by a man who had never known a check nor care. He must have felt happy while he wrote it; though the excitement of composition brings with it a reaction which, more than any other exercise of the brain, demands amusement and change. To turn exhausted from the written page, and find solitude and a dungeon walls about him, might well make him feel that imagination sterile, which was indeed exhausted by the very fertility and beauty of its creations.
1604.Ætat.57.
In 1604, Cervantes returned to what in Spain is called the court, that is, the town in which the monarch resided. He had left it thirteen years before, in hopes of earning a subsistence by the employment offered him. He had lived in poverty, and experienced a variety of disasters. During this period he had never thought of obtaining an income through authorship. Now he had with him that which in truth has proved to be his passport to immortality, and the admiration of the world. We may believe that an innate sense of the merit of his work led him to consider that he was not too sanguine in hoping thence to derive such profit and reputation as would rescue him from the distresses to which he had hitherto been the victim. But from first to last, in a worldly view, Cervantes was born to disappointment. His first attempt was to introduce himself to the notice of the duke of Lerma, the "Atlas of the monarchy," as he calls him. The haughty favourite received him with disdain; and Cervantes, not less proud, renounced at once the humiliating task of seeking his favour.
His best and immediate resource was to print his book. But not only the fashion of the times demanded that it should be introduced under the nominal patronage of some great man, but the very title and nature of"Don Quixote" rendered it necessary that in some way the public should from the outset be prepossessed in its favour, and let into the secret of its intentions. Cervantes applied to don Alonzo Lopez de Zuniga y Sotomayor, seventh duke of Bejar, a man who with literary pretensions himself, was pleased to arrogate the reputation of a patron of genius. A story is told, that the duke, understanding either that the work in question was a romance of chivalry, or that it was a burlesque, thought in either case his dignity compromised by its being introduced under the patronage of his name, and refused the author's request. Cervantes, in reply, only begged permission to read a chapter of his work to him; this was granted: the first chapter is enough indeed to awaken curiosity, to engage interest, and promise a rich harvest of amusement. The duke and his friends were so delighted, that they asked for another, and another chapter, till the whole book was read; and the duke, giving up his prepossession, gladly yielded his consent to be in a manner immortalised, by having his name inscribed on the first page of the work. It is added, that a morose priest, who was religious director of the duke, was shocked at the immorality of the work, and bitterly censured both it and its author. He, they say, was the original of the priest, at the duke and duchess's table in the second part, whom Cervantes takes to task for his impertinent interference. Whatever truth there be in this story, and whether influenced by this ecclesiastic, or the worldly feeling that hardens the hearts of the prosperous against those who really need assistance, certainly the duke was no generous patron. Cervantes never dedicated another work to him, nor makes allusion, and he was ready enough to do so, when merited, to any kindness received from him.
1605.Ætat.58.
Tradition preserves the story, that even when published, "Don Quixote" met with no popularity, and was hailed with no glad welcome. The author was obscure—he had written nothing previously that had won the public ear, and so opened the way to success: the very title of the bookexcited the censure and ridicule of common critics. It was in danger of becoming a dead letter. Cervantes perceived that his readers did not understand the scope of the book; but he felt its merits, and was sure that if once the public were incited to read, its general popularity must ensue. To allure attention therefore, and awaken curiosity, it is said that he published an anonymous pamphlet, which he called the "Buscapié," (a name given to those little fusees or serpents, thrown forward in military operations to give light to a night mark), which affected to criticise his book, and insinuated, at the same time, that it was a covert and fine satire on several well known persons; at the same time, not mentioning who or what these personages were.
The existence of the "Buscapié" has been disputed, as well as that Cervantes was its author. Tradition asserted it, and brought its weighty testimony; but in addition to this, Los Rios brings forward a letter of a friend of his, don Antonio Ruidiaz, who saw and read the pamphlet, and gives the following account of it[66]:—"I saw the 'Buscapié' in the house of the late count de Saceda about sixteen years ago, and I read it in the short space of time for which that learned gentleman lent it me; to whom also it had been lent, by I know not who, for a few days only. It was an anonymous pamphlet, in duodecimo, printed in this court, (en esta Corte—Madrid so called while the king made residence there,) with that title only. I do not remember the date of the year, nor the printer's name: it contained about six sheets—good print, but bad paper. I will mention what my imperfect memory retains of its contents."
"The author begins by mentioning, or feigning, that a book had been published some time ago, entitled, 'Don Quixote de la Mancha,' but that for some time he had felt no inclination to read it, conceiving that it was only one of the romances of the day, or that its author had nottalent sufficient to produce a work of any excellence. For this reason, he, like most others, felt no desire to read it; till at last, influenced by mere curiosity, he bought it, and having read it once, he felt impelled to read it again with more pleasure and attention; and then he became convinced that it was one of the cleverest books that had seen light, and a satire full of information and amusement, and written with the greatest dexterity and cleverness, for the purpose of dispelling the enthusiasm which the nation in general, and principally the nobles, felt for works of chivalry; and that the persons introduced were merely imaginary, brought in only for the sake of indicating those whose heads were thus turned. Nevertheless, it was not so entirely imaginary, but that an allusion might be perceived to the character and chivalrous actions of a certain champion, a favourite of fame, and of other paladins who had sought to imitate him, as well as other persons who had charge of the government of a most extensive and wealthy region of former times. The author went on to compare the incidents; and, although he artfully disguises some, he nevertheless plainly showed that he had in view the enterprises and gallantry of Charles V., as most of the points apply to this hero, though so veiled, both with regard to him and other persons, that it is impossible to point them out. At length he concluded, by saying, that to compensate to the author for the injury he had done him in the first instance, and to undeceive the prepossession of others, and that they might discover the treasure hid under that title, he had resolved to publish the "Buscapié," which might excite the attention of the unoccupied (which was almost all Spain), and entice them to take the book in hand and read it, well persuaded that whoever once cast his eyes on it, would appreciate at its just value that which they had before despised."
Whether this story be true, and whether "Don Quixote" owed its first celebrity to the "Buscapié," we will not decide; though I own I am led to reject it as unworthy. Cervantes makes no allusion to it in his afterworks; and it seems more probable that it was written by some friend or disciple, than by himself. It is said that the trick succeeded: at any rate, the book at first excited no attention, and then, suddenly coming into vogue, it was devoured with insatiable curiosity.1605.Four editions were published in Spain in one year, and its fame became spread to all neighbouring countries, and in no long time reached this island.
Books in those days sometimes enriched authors by gaining for them patrons and pensions; the mere sale brought no great profit. No doubt Cervantes's distress was somewhat alleviated; but still poverty clung to him, while his very success excited the enmity of a variety of the men of letters of the day, who could not endure that a man whose talents they had regarded with no consideration, should suddenly pass over the heads of all: a cloud of satires, epigrams, and criticism were levelled against his work. Old rough doctor Johnson would have revelled in such testimony of his popularity, and Cervantes was at least secure in having the laugh on his side. Los Rios, however, observes, that if the many satires, attacks, and persecutions, which the author and his book suffered had not been submerged in oblivion, or drowned in the quantity of eulogies and defences heaped on him by men of talent, who continued to subtract such disagreeable productions from the eyes of posterity, it would now appear, that "Don Quixote" had been written in the midst of a nation enemy to the muses. Now the attacks of these men redound to their own discredit, displaying only their envy or incredible bad taste. Cervantes indeed had not spared the authors of his time, and they almost all set themselves in array against him. Lope de Vega, from the height of his prosperity, showed a condescending good nature, which, considering that he was attacked in "Don Quixote," shows a sort of lion magnanimity: he even declared that the writings of Cervantes were not devoid of grace or style. Don Luis de Gongora, a man of whom furthermention will be made in this work, was his most virulent critic. Figuero, and Villegas both contributed their mite of disapprobation. We cannot tell how Cervantes viewed their attacks, but his warm heart must have been pained at the falling off of some of his friends; among these was Vicente Espinel, who had merit enough as a poet, perfect in his class, to hail with pleasure, instead of enviously depreciating, the merit of his friend.
Cervantes mentions some of these satires, and in particular, one sent to him in a letter when he was at Valladolid.[67]1605.The circumstances accompanying this letter show that he was settled and had a house in that city. Philip III. had established his court there, and doubtless Cervantes thought that in the first flush of success his being in its immediate neighbourhood might occasion some noble to become his patron. When Philip IV. was born, James I. of England sent admiral lord Howard to present a treaty of peace, and to congratulate Philip III. on the birth of his son.1605.He was received with the utmost magnificence: bull fights, tournaments, masked balls, religious ceremonies—all of feasting and splendour that the court could display, were put in requisition The duke of Lerma caused an account of these festivities to be written: it is said that Cervantes was the author.
These rejoicings were scarcely over when an event occurred greatly to distress Cervantes, who seems to have been marked out by fortune for the endurance of every variety of galling disaster.
There lived in Valladolid a cavalier of Saint-Jago, don Gaspar de Ezpeleta, an intimate acquaintance of the marquis de Falces. On the night of the 27th of June, 1605, this gentleman, having supped, as he often did, with his friend, returned home on foot over an open field to a wooden bridge over the river Esqueva. He was here met by a strangerwrapped in a large cloak, who accosted him with incivility, and a quarrel ensuing, they drew their swords, and don Gaspar fell pierced by many wounds. Calling for help, and bleeding profusely, he staggered on towards a house near the bridge; part of the first floor of this house was occupied by donna Luisa de Montoya, widow of the historian Esteban de Garibay, with her two sons; the other part by Cervantes and his family. The cries of the wounded man drew the attention of one of the sons of Garibay, who rousing Cervantes, who had gone to bed, they proceeded to his assistance. They found him lying at their porch, his sword in one hand and buckler in another, and carried him into the apartment of donna Luisa, where he expired on the following day. An inquest was held by the alcayd de casa y corte. Cristobal de Villarroel, who, like all other officers of justice in Spain, took the safe side of suspecting the worst, and throwing every body into prison. Cervantes, his wife, donna Catalina de Palacios y Salazar; his daughter donna Isabel de Saavedra, twenty years of age; his sister donna Andrea de Cervantes, who was a widow, with a daughter named donna Costanza de Ovando, twenty-eight years of age; a nun called donna Magdalena de Sotomayor, who was also termed a sister of Cervantes; his servant maid Maria de Cevallos, and two friends, who were staying in his house, one named Señor de Cigales, and a Portuguese, Simon Mendez, made their depositions, and were indiscriminately thrown into prison. It is so usual in Italy as well as Spain to suppose that all those who come to the assistance of a murdered man, have had a hand in his assassination, that such an act probably excited no wonder. After a confinement of eight days, and a vast quantity of interrogation they were, on giving security, set at liberty. The depositions taken on this occasion show that Cervantes was still employed as an agent. When we consider that he maintained all these relations, we wonder less at his poverty, while weadmire his liberality and kindness of heart. Nor can we help remarking from this enumeration of his household, that Cervantes had that predilection for women's society which characterises the gentler and more gifted of his sex.
1606.Ætat.59.
Though it is impossible to fix dates with any precision, there is reason to believe that when the court returned to Madrid in 1606; Cervantes followed it, and continued to inhabit that city to the end of his life. The freedom and society of a capital is always agreeable to a literary man; and his native town of Alcalà de Henares; and his wife's of Esquivias were at a convenient distance. It has been ascertained that in June, 1609, he lived in the Calle (street) de la Magdelena; a little after; behind the college of Nuestra Señora de Loretto; in June; 1610, at 9 Calle del Leon; in 1614 in Calle de Las Huertas; afterwards, in the Calle de el Duque de Alva, at the corner of St. Isidoro; and lastly, in 1616, at 20 Calle del Leon, where he died.
It must rather have been the capital than the court that attracted him, for he lived in obscurity and neglect. He had only two friends of rank, who allowed him some small income; these were don Bernardo de Sandoval y Rojas, archbishop of Toledo, and don Pedro Fernandez de Castro, count of Lemos; and this was done through no solicitation on the part of Cervantes, nor in reward for any adulatory dedication, but simply out of admiration for his talent, and sympathy for his poverty.[68]At this time despotism and bigotry were extending their influence. Spain had degenerated, and letters, cultivated not long before with enthusiasm, were falling into neglect. The nobility surrounded themselves with jesters and flatterers, neglecting men of merit. Of the few of the old leaven, men admiring talent, and desirous of serving it, were the cardinal de Toledo, and the count of Lemos. The first was respected forhis retired habits and generosity; the other for his munificence and popularity. The cardinal treated men of letters with kindness and urbanity. The count sought out the necessitous and suffering among them, assisting them at their need with unlimited generosity.
In 1610 the count of Lemos was named viceroy of Naples; and here again Cervantes was doomed to disappointment. The count of Lemos held in high esteem the two Argensolas. These brothers, Lupercio and Bartolomé Leonardo de Argensola, were of a family originally of Ravenna in Italy, and settled in Aragon. They were surnamed the Horaces of Spain. Before he was twenty, Lupercio wrote three tragedies, which met with success, and which Cervantes praises highly in "Don Quixote:" too highly, indeed, for they are of the old school, wanting in verisimilitude and regularity, and not elevated by the merits of poetry. Philip III. appointed him historiographer of the kingdom of Aragon. Bartolomé, his junior by a year, was an ecclesiastic and also a poet. These brothers were residing at Saragossa, when the count, wishing to have them with him, offered Lupercio the place of secretary of state and war at Naples, and requested that his brother should accompany him. The count also confided to them the charge of choosing the persons to fulfil the under places in their office, and they, confiding in the counts taste, selected various poets for this purpose.
Cervantes was their friend; he had reason to hope that they would use their interest when arrived at Naples to advance him. But he was disappointed. He takes a gentle revenge in his "Voyage to Parnassus." Mercury bids him invite the two Argensolas to assist in the conquest of Parnassus, but Cervantes excuses himself, saying, "I am afraid they would not listen to me—although I am desirous to oblige in all things—since I have been told that my will and my eyes are both short-sighted, and my poverty-stricken appearance would ill suit such a journey. They have fulfilled none of the many promises they made me atparting. Much I hoped—for they promised much; but perhaps their new occupations have caused them to forget what they then said."[69]
Cervantes meanwhile had relinquished business, or nearly so: his means, considering the number of persons he maintained, were strait indeed: he felt that he was neglected, while others of far less talent basked in the favour of the court. But he did not hunt after patrons nor pension: he lived quiet and secluded, expecting nothing, repining at nothing—content, if not satisfied.
It is certainly strange that in those days, when it was considered a part of a noble's duty to protect and patronise men of letters, that Cervantes should have been thus passed over. Some men join a sort of querulousness and snarling independence to considerable self-esteem, which renders it difficult to oblige them. But there was no trace of anything of the sort in Cervantes—no trace of any quarrel or complaint; nor, though himself obscure, was his book unknown. There is a story told of Philip III., that he was one day standing in the balcony of his palace at Madrid, overlooking the Manzanares, and he observed a student walking on the banks of the river, reading, and interrupting himself every now and then with strange gesticulations and bursts of laughter. The king exclaimed, "Either that man is mad, or he is reading "Don Quixote.'" The courtiers around, eager to confirm their sovereign'ssagacity, started off to ascertain the fact, and found indeed that the book the student held was "Don Quixote;" yet not one among them remembered to remind their sovereign that the author of that delightful work lived poor and forgotten.
In the licence to print the "Second Part of Don Quixote," another story is told, showing how the Spaniards themselves regarded the obscurity in which they suffered the author to live: it is related by the licentiate, Francisco Marquez Torres, master of the pages to the archbishop of Toledo, to whom the censorship of the work was intrusted. He relates that in 1615, an ambassador arrived at Madrid from Paris, whose object being complimentary, he was followed by a numerous suite of nobles and gentlemen of rank and education. Among others, the ambassador visited the archbishop of Toledo. On the 25th February, 1615, the archbishop returned the visit, accompanied by various churchmen and chaplains, and, among others, by the licentiate, Marquez Torres, himself. While the archbishop paid his visit, those of his suite conversed with the French gentlemen present, and they discussed the merits of various works of talent then popular, and in particular of the "Second Part of Don Quixote," then about to appear. When the foreign cavaliers heard the name of Cervantes, they all began to speak at once, and to declare the estimation in which he was held in France. Their praises were such, that the licentiate Marquez Torres offered to take them to the house of the author, that they might see and know him—an offer accepted with delight, while a thousand questions were asked concerning the age, profession, rank, and situation of Cervantes. The licentiate was obliged to confess that he was a gentleman and a soldier, but old and poor; and his reply so moved one of his audience, that he exclaimed, "Is it possible that Spain does not maintain such a man, in honour and comfort from the public purse?" While another, with less warmth of heart, thoughequal admiration, exclaimed, "If necessity obliges him to write, may he never be rich! for, being poor, he by his works enriches the world;"—words to comfort, with the hope of fame, one whose life was clouded by penury and neglect.
1608.Ætat.61.
We cannot help observing that the court and the nobles did not form the whole world. Cervantes had many dear, many well-informed and valued friends, and among these he could forget the carelessness of those who considered all reputation and prosperity to be inclosed within their magic circle; while in the case of Cervantes, it is proved that though neglected by them, the whole world rung with his fame and praise.
For some years Cervantes published nothing more. In 1608 he brought out a corrected edition of the "First Part of Don Quixote." He was employed, meanwhile, in a variety of works which appeared afterwards in quick succession, on which he employed himself at the same time. His "Voyage to Parnassus" peculiarly engaged his attention, but he feared that the publication, with its gentle attack on the Argensolas, might displease his kind patron, the count of Lemos. He therefore brought out first his "Twelve Tales" ("Novelas Exemplares") which raised yet higher his character as an author. These tales are dedicated in a few respectful lines to the count of Lemos; the preface to them is very interesting. Cervantes has been accused unjustly of vanity and boasting: of this he is innocent; but he had something of that feeling, the inherent quality of authors, which led him to dwell on his own idea and fortunes (what could be nearer, or better known, or more deeply felt by him?) the same that led Rousseau to make his confessions, and which when indulged in with good faith and without querulousness, sits well on a writer, and interests us in him. "I should be well content," he says, "to be excused this preface, and to give instead my portrait, such as it was painted by the famous don Juan de Jauregui: with this my ambition would be satisfied; and the curiosity would be gratified of those who desire toknow what the countenance and person is of him who has dared bring before the world so many inventions; and below the portrait I would place these words: 'He whom you here see with a face resembling an eagle's with chesnut brown hair, smooth and open brow, vivacious eyes, a hooked yet well-proportioned nose; with a beard now silver, but which twenty years ago was golden; thick mustachios and small mouth; ill-formed teeth, of which but few remain; a person between two extremes, neither tall nor short; of sanguine complexion, rather fair than dark; somewhat heavy about the shoulders, and not very light of foot;—this, I say, is the face of the author of 'Galatea,' and of 'Don Quixote de la Mancha,'—he who, in imitation of Cæsar Caporal, the Perugian, made a voyage to Parnassus, and wrote other works, which wander lost, even with their master's name. He is usually called Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra. He was for many years a soldier, and a captive for more than five, where he learned to bear adversity with patience. In the naval battle of Lepanto he lost his left hand by a shot from an arquebuse, a wound which may appear a deformity, but which he considers a beauty, having received it on the most memorable and noble event which past ages ever saw, or those to come can hope to witness—fighting under the victorious banners of the son of that lustre of war, Charles V., of happy memory."
There is certainly nothing boastful nor ungraceful in this—rather are we glad to find how Cervantes, old and poor, could dwell with complacency on past adversity, and cast the halo of glory round his misfortunes.
1614.Ætat.67.
These tales established more firmly than ever the high reputation of Cervantes, and he now ventured to publish his "Voyage to Parnassus;" and after this the least successful of his publications, or, rather, that which is the only failure among them—his volume of "Comedias y Entremeses," which he composed according to the new school introduced by Lope de Vega, but which were never acted. In his preface to this work hegives some account of the origin of the Spanish drama, and the amelioration that be, in his younger days, introduced, which has already been quoted. He goes on to say, "Called away by other occupations, I laid aside my pen, and meanwhile Lope de Vega, that prodigy of nature, appeared, and raised himself to the sovereignty of the drama. He vanquished and reduced under his dominion all writers of plays: he filled the world with dramas, excellently written and well conceived, and that in so great number, that ten thousand sheets of paper would not contain them; and, what is surprising, he has seen them all acted, or known that they were acted. All those who have wished to share the glory of his labours, collectively, have not written the half of what he alone has given forth. And when," he continues, "I returned to the old employment of my leisure, fancying that the age which echoed my praises still endured, I began again to write plays, but I found no birds in the accustomed nest—I mean, I found no manager who asked for them, although he was informed that they were written; I threw them, therefore, into the corner of a trunk, and condemned them to eternal silence. A bookseller then told me that he would have bought them, if an author of reputation had not told him, that my prose was worth something; but nothing could be expected from my verse. To confess the truth, these words mortified me deeply; without doubt, I am either much changed, or the age has arrived at a higher degree of perfection, against the usual course of things, for I have always heard past times praised. I re-read my comedies, as well as some interludes I had mingled with them, and I found that they were not so bad, but that I might bring them out from what an author calls darkness, to what others may, perhaps, name day. I grew angry, and sold them to the bookseller who now publishes them. He gave me a reasonable price, and I received the money without caring for the rebuffs of the actors. I wish that they were the best ever written;and if, dear reader, you find any thing good in them, I wish when you meet this ill-natured author, you would tell him to repent, and not to judge them so severely, since, after all, they contain no incongruities nor striking faults."
Unfortunately, the author was right—the pieces are very bad; so bad, that when Blas de Nasano reprinted them a century afterwards, he could find nothing better to say of them, than that they were purposely written badly, in ridicule of the extravagant plays then in vogue.
1615.Ætat.68.
Cervantes published another slight work in this year. The custom of poetic games (giustas poeticas) was still preserved in Spain, which had been instituted even from the time of John II. Pope Paul V. having, in 1614, canonised the famous Saint Theresa, her apotheosis was given as the subject for competition. Lope de Vega was named one of the judges. Cervantes entered the lists, and sent in an ode; it did not receive the prize, but it is published among those selected as the best, in the account written of the feasts which all Spain celebrated in honour of a native and illustrious saint.
Two works employed Cervantes at this time—"Persiles and Sigismunda," and the "Second Part of Don Quixote." He appears to have intended to bring out the former first, but the publication of Avellanada's "Don Quixote" caused him to hasten the appearance of the latter.
The name of the real author of this book is unknown; he assumed that of the licentiate Alonzo Fernandez de Avellanada, a native of Tordesillas. No plagiarism is more impudent and inexcusable. Don Quixote and Sancho Panza were the offspring and the property of Cervantes: to take these original and unparalleled creations out of his hands—to make them speak and act according to the fancy of another, and that while he was alive, and still occupied in adorning them with fresh deeds and thoughts, all his own, is a sort of theft no talent could excuse. Avellanada's "Don Quixote" is not destitute of talent; but it is impossible to read it—the mind of the reader is tormented by finding another knight, and another esquire, whom he is called to look upon as the same, but who arevery different. The adventures are clever enough; but the soul of the actors is gone. Don Quixote is no longer the perfect gentleman, with feelings so noble, pure, and imaginative, and Sancho is a lout, whose talk is folly, without the salt of wit. Cervantes, heartily disgusted, and highly indignant, hastened to publish his continuation. In dedicating his comedies to the count of Lemos, at the commencement of 1615, he says, "Don Quixote has buckled oh his spurs, and is hastening to kiss the feet of your excellency. I am afraid he will arrive a little out of humour, because he lest his way, and was ill-treated at Tarragona: nevertheless, he has proved, upon examination, that he is not the hero of that story, but another who wished to look like him, but did not succeed."
In his dedication of the Second Part to the count of Lemos, he says, in not ungraceful allusion to the extent of his fame, while at the same time he covertly alludes to his expectation of being invited to Naples, "Many have told me to hurry it, to get rid for them of the disgust caused by another Quixote, who, under the name of the Second Part, has wandered through the world. And he who has shown himself most impatient is the great emperor of China, who a month ago wrote me a letter in Chinese, asking, or rather entreating me to send it for he was desirous of founding a college for the study of the Castilian language, and he wished "Don Quixote" to be the book read in it; at the same time, offering that I should be rector of the college: but I replied that I had not health to undertake so long a journey; and besides being ill, I was poor; and emperor for emperor, and monarch for monarch, there was the great count of Lemos at Naples, who assisted me as much as I wished, though he did not found colleges nor rectorships."
This was the last work that Cervantes published. He had finished "Persiles and Sigismunda," and meditated the "Second Part of Galatea," and two other works, whose subjects we cannot guess, though he hasmentioned the titles ("Bernardo" and "Las Semanas del Jardin"); but of these no trace remains. He published the "Second Part of Don Quixote" at the end of 1615, and being then sixty-eight years of age, he was attacked by the malady which not long after caused his death.1616.Ætat.69.Hoping to find relief in the air of the country during spring, on the 2d of the following April he made an excursion to Esquivias, but, getting worse, he was obliged to return to Madrid. He narrates his journey back in his preface to "Persiles and Sigismunda:" and in this we find the only account we possess of his illness. "It happened; dear reader; that as two friends and I were returning from Esquivias—a place famous on many accounts;—in the first place for its illustrious families; and secondly for its excellent wines;—being arrived near Madrid, we heard, behind, a man on horseback, who was spurring his animal to its speed, and appeared to wish to get up to us, of which he gave proof soon after, calling out and begging us to stop; on which we reined up, and saw arrive a country-bred student, mounted on an ass, dressed in grey, with gaiters and round shoes, a sword and scabbard, and a smooth ruff with strings; true it is, that of these he had but two, so that his ruff was always falling on one side, and he was at great trouble to put it right. When he reached us, he said, 'Without doubt your Honours are seeking some office or pretend at court, from the archbishop of Toledo or the king, neither more nor less, to judge by the speed you make; for truly my ass has been counted the winner of the course more than once.' One of my companions replied, 'The horse of señor Miguel de Cervantes is the cause—he steps out so well.' Scarcely had the student heard the name of Cervantes than he threw himself off his ass, so that his bag and portmanteau fell to right and left—for he travelled with all this luggage—and rushing towards me, and seizing my left arm, exclaimed, 'Yes, yes! this is the able hand, the famous being, the delightful writer, and, finally, the joy of the muses!' As for me, hearing him accumulate praises so rapidly, I thought myself obliged in politeness toreply, and taking him round the neck in a manner which caused his ruff to fall off altogether, I said, f I am indeed Cervantes, sir; but I am not the joy of the muses, nor any of the fine things you say: but go back to your ass, mount again, and let us converse, for the short distance we have before us." The good student did as I desired; we reined in a little, and continued our journey at a more moderate pace. Meanwhile, my illness was mentioned, and the good student soon gave me over, saying, 'This is a dropsy, which not all the water of the ocean, could you turn it fresh and drink it, would cure. Señor Cervantes, drink moderately, and do not forget to eat, for thus you will be cured without the aid of other medicine.' 'Many others have told me the same thing,' replied; 'but I can no more leave off drinking till I am satisfied, than if I were born for this end only. My life is drawing to its close; and, if I may judge by the quickness of my pulse, it will cease to beat by next Sunday, and I shall cease to live. You have begun your acquaintance with me in an evil hour, since I have not time left to show my gratitude for the kindness you have displayed.' At this moment we arrived at the bridge of Toledo, by which I entered the town, while he followed the road of the bridge of Segovia. What after that happened to me fame will recount: my friends will publish it, and I shall be desirous to hear. I embraced him again; he made me offers of service, and, spurring his ass, left me as ill, as he was well disposed to pursue his journey. Nevertheless, he gave me an excellent subject for pleasantry; but all times are not alike. Perhaps the hour may come when I can join again this broken thread; and shall be able to say what here I leave out, and which I ought to say. Now, farewell pleasure! farewell joy! farewell, my many friends! I am about to die; and I leave you, desirous of meeting you soon again, happy, in another life."
Such is Cervantes's adieu to the world; self-possessed, and animated bythat resigned and cheerful spirit which accompanied him through life. He wrote another farewell to his protector, the count of Lemos, in his dedication of this same work: it is dated 19th April, 1616. "I should be glad," he says, "not to apply to myself, as I must, the old verses which men formerly celebrated, that begin 'the foot already in the stirrup;' for with little alteration, I can say, that with my foot in the stirrup, and feeling the agonies of death, I write you, great lord, this letter. Yesterday extreme unction was administered me; to-day, I take up my pen; my time is short; my pains increase; my hopes fail; yet I wish to live to see you again in Spain; and perhaps the joy I should then feel would restore me to life. However, if I must less it, the will of heaven be done; but let your excellency at least be aware of my wish, and learn that you had in me an affectionate servant, who desired to show his service even beyond death." Four days after writing this dedication, Cervantes died, on the 23d of April, 1616, aged sixty-nine. In his will, he named his wife, and his neighbour, the licentiate Francisco Nuñez, his executors. He ordered that he should be buried in a convent of nuns of Trinity, founded four years before, in the Calle del Humilladero, where his daughter donna Isabel had a short time before taken the vows. No doubt this last wish of Cervantes was complied with; but in 1633, the nuns left the Calle del Humilladero, and went to inhabit another convent in the Calle de Cantaranas, and the place of his interment is thus forgotten; no stone, no tomb, no inscription marks the spot. We have to regret also the loss of his two portraits, painted by his friends Jauregui and Pacheco: the one we have is a copy made in the reign of Philip IV., and attributed to various painters; it resembles the description before quoted, which Cervantes gives of himself.
In calling to mind all the events of this great man's life, we are struck by the equanimity of temper preserved throughout. As a soldier,he showed courage; as a captive, fortitude and daring; as a man struggling with adversity, honesty, perseverance, and contentment. He speaks of himself as poor, but he never repines. In all the knowledge of the world displayed in "Don Quixote," there is no querulousness, no causticity, no bitterness: a noble enthusiasm animated him to his end. Despite his ridicule of books of chivalry, romantic in his own tastes, his last work, Persiles and Sigismunda, is more romantic than all. His genius, his imagination, his wit, his natural good spirits and affectionate heart, did, we must hope, stand in lieu of more worldly blessings, and rendered him as internally happy as they have rendered him admirable and praiseworthy to all men to the end of time.[70]
His life has been drawn to such a length, that there is no space for a very detailed account of his works; still something more must be said. His first publication, "Galatea," is beautiful in its spirit, interesting and pleasing in its details, but not original: as a work it is cast in the same mould as other pastorals that went before. Nor was Cervantes a poet. Many men have imagination, and can write verses, without being poets. Coleridge gives an admirable definition: "Good prose consists in good words in good places; poetry, in the best words in the best places," Cervantes had imagination and invention: the Spanish language offered great facility, and he wrote it always with purity; so that here and there we find lines and stanzas that arepoetry, but, on the whole, there is a want of that concentration, severe taste, and perfect ear for harmony that form poetry.
Yet when we recur to the "Numantia," we find this sentence unjust, for there is poetry of conception and passion in the "Numantia" of the highest order; nor is it wanting in that of language. It has been mentioned that of the twenty or thirty plays which Cervantes says he wrote, soon after his marriage, "Numantia" and "El Trato de Argel" (Life in Algiers) alone remain. They are written on the simplest plan, though not on the Greek; they are without choruses, without entanglement of plot, sustained only by impassioned dialogue and situations of high-wrought interest. The "Numantia" is founded on the siege of that city, under Scipio Africanus, when the unfortunate inhabitants destroyed themselves, their wives and children, and their property, rather than fall, and let them fall into the conquerors' hands. It is divided into four acts: the first two are the least impressive, though containing scenes of extreme pathos, and well calculated to raise by degrees the interest of the reader to the horrors that ensue. Scipio, desirous of sparing the lives of his men, resolves to assault the city no more, but, digging a trench round it on all sides, except where the river flows, means to reduce it by famine. The Numantines determine to endure all to the last. They consult the gods, and dark auguries repel every hope: the dreadful pains of hunger creep about the city; and when two betrothed meet, and the lover asks the maiden but to stay awhile that he may gaze on her, he exclaims—