"Bernaldo," says the chronicle, "went toward him and kissed his hand. But when he found it cold and saw that all his colour was black, he knew that he was dead; and with the grief he had from it he began to cry aloud and to make great moan, saying: 'Alas! Count Sandias, in an evil hour was I born, for never was man so lost as I am now for you; for since you are dead and my castle is gone, I know no counsel by which I may do aught.'" Some say in their cantares de gesta that the King then said: "Bernaldo, now is not the time for much talking, and therefore I bid you go straightway forth from my land."

Broken-hearted and utterly crushed by this final blow to his hopes, Bernaldo turned his horse's head and rode slowly away. And from that day his banner was not seen in Christian Spain, nor the echoes of his horn heard among her hills. Hopeless and desperate, he took service with the Moors. But his name lives in the romances and ballads of his native country as that of a great champion foully wronged by the treachery of an unjust and revengeful King.

Although the cantares of Fernan Gonzalez and the Children of Lara also lie embedded in the chronicles, I have preferred to deal with them in the chapter on the ballads, the form in which they are undoubtedly best known.

The "Poema del Cid"

But by far the most complete and characteristic of the cantares de gesta is the celebrated Poema del Cid, the t.i.tle which has become attached to it in default of all knowledge of its original designation. That it is a cantar must be plain to all who possess even a slight familiarity with the chansons de gestes of France. Like many of the chansons heroes, the Cid experiences royal ingrat.i.tude, and is later taken back into favour. The stock phrases of the chansons, too, are constantly to be met with in the poem, and the atmosphere of boastful herohood arising from its pages strengthens the resemblance. There is also pretty clear proof that the author of the Poema had read or heard the Chanson de Roland. This is not to say that he practised the vile art of adaptation or the viler art of paraphrase, or in any way filched from the mighty epic of Roncesvalles. But superficial borrowings of incident appear, which are, however, amply redeemed by originality of treatment and inspiration. The thought and expression are profoundly national; nor does the language exhibit French influence, save, as has been said, in the matter of well-worn expressions, the cliches of medieval epic.

Its Only Ma.n.u.script

But one ma.n.u.script of the Poema del Cid is known, the handiwork of a certain Per or Pedro the Abbot. About the third quarter of the eighteenth century, Sanchez, the royal librarian, was led to suspect through certain bibliographical references that such a ma.n.u.script might exist in the neighbourhood of Bivar, the birthplace of the hero of the poem, and he succeeded in unearthing it in that village. The date at the end is given as Mille CCXLV, and authorities are not agreed as to its significance, some holding that a vacant s.p.a.ce showing an erasure after the second C is intentional, and that it should read 1245 (1207 new style). Others believe that 1307 is the true date of the MS. However that may be, the poem itself is referred to a period not earlier than the middle of the twelfth nor later than the middle of the thirteenth century.

As we possess it, the ma.n.u.script is in a rather mutilated and damaged condition. The commencement and t.i.tle are lost, a page in the middle is missing, and the end has been sadly patched by an unskilful hand. Sanchez states, in his Poesias Castellanas anteriores al Siglo XV (1779-90) that he had seen a copy made in 1596 which showed that the MS. had the same deficiencies then as now.

Its Authorship Unknown

The personality of the author of the Poema del Cid will probably for ever remain unknown. He may have been a churchman, as Ormsby suggests, but I am inclined to the opinion that he was a professional trovador. The trouveres, rather than ecclesiastics, were responsible for such works in France, and why not the trovadores in Spain? [26]

That the writer lived near the time of the events he celebrated is plain, probably about half a century after the Cid sheathed his famous sword Colada for the last time. On the ground of various local allusions in the poem he has been claimed as a native of the Valle de Arbujuelo and as a monk of the monastery of Cardena, near Burgos. But these surmises have nothing but textual references to recommend them, and are only a little more probable than that which would make him an Asturian because he does not employ the diphthong ue. We have good grounds, however, for the a.s.sumption that he was at least a Castilian, and these are to be found in his fierce political animus against the kingdom of Leon and all that pertained to it. That Pedro the Abbot was merely a copyist is clear from his mishandling of the ma.n.u.script; for though we have to thank him for the preservation of the Poema, our grat.i.tude is dashed with irritation at the manner in which he has pa.s.sed it on to us, for his copy is replete with vain repet.i.tions, he frequently runs two lines into one, and occasionally even transfers the matter of one line to another in his haste to be free of his task.

Other Cantares of the Cid

That other cantares relating to the Cid existed is positively known through the researches of Senor Don Ramon Menendez Pidal, who has demonstrated that one of them was used in the most ancient version of the Cronica General, of which three recensions evidently existed at different periods, and it is now clear that the pa.s.sage in question does not come from the Poema as we have it, as was formerly believed. [27] The pa.s.sages on the Cid in the second version of the Cronica are also derived from still another cantar on the popular hero, known as the Cronica Rimada, [28] or Cantar de Rodrigo, evidently the work of a juglar of Palencia, and which seems to be a melange of several lost cantares relating to the Cid, as well as to other Spanish traditions. This version, however, is much later than the Poema, and is chiefly interesting as enshrining many traditions relative to the Cid as well as to the ancient folk-tales of Spain.

Metre of the "Poema del Cid"

It would certainly seem as if, like all cantares, the poem had been especially written for public recitation. The expression "O senores,"

encountered in places, may be taken as the equivalent of the English "Listen, lordings," of such frequent occurrence in our own lays and romances, which was intended to appeal to the attention or spur the flagging interest of a medieval audience. The metre in which the poem is written is almost as unequal as its poetic quality. The prevailing line is the Alexandrine or fourteen-syllabled verse, but some lines run far over this average, while others are truncated in barbarous fashion, probably through the inattention or haste of the copyist. [29]

It seems to me that the Poema, although of the highest merit in many of its finest pa.s.sages, has received the most extravagant eulogy, and I suspect that many of the English critics who descant so glibly upon its excellences have never perused it in its entirety. Considerable tracts of it are of the most pedestrian description, and in places it descends to a doggerel which recalls the metrical barbarities of the pantomime. But when the war-trump gives him the key it arouses the singer as it arouses Scott--the parallel is an apt and almost exact one--and it is a mighty orchestra indeed which breaks upon our ears. The lines surge and swell in true Homeric tempest-sound, and as we listen to the crash of Castilian spears upon the Moorish ranks we are reminded of those sounding lines in Swinburne's Erechtheus beginning:

With a trampling of drenched, red hoofs and an earthquake of men that meet, Strong war sets hand to the scythe, and the furrows take fire from his feet.

But the music of the singer of the Poema does not depend upon reverberative effect alone. His is the true music of battle, burning the blood with keenest fire, and he has no need to rely solely upon the gallop of his metrical war-horse to excite our admiration, as does the English poet.

The Poem Opens

The opening of the Poema del Cid, as we possess it, is indeed sufficiently striking and dramatic to console us for the loss of the original commencement. The great commander, banished (c. 1088) by royal order from the house of his father through the treachery of the Leonese party at the Court of King Alfonso, rides away disconsolately from the broken gates of his castle. A fairly accurate translation of this fine pa.s.sage might read as follows:

He turns to see the ruined hold, the tears fall thick and fast, The empty chests, the broken gates, all open to the blast.

Sans raiment are the wardrobes, reft of mantle and of vair, The empty hollow of the hall of tapestry is bare.

No feather in the falconry, no hawk to come to hand, A n.o.ble beggar must the Cid renounce his fathers' land.

He sighed, but as a warrior sighs. "Now I shall not repine.

All praise to Thee, our Father, for Thy grace to me and mine.

The slanderous tongue, the lying tale, have wrought my wreck to-day, But Thou in Thy good time, O Lord, the debt wilt sure repay."

As they rode out of Bivar flew a raven to the right, By Burgos as they bridled the bird was still in sight.

The Cid he shrugged his shoulders as the omen he espied; "Greetings, Cousin Alvar Fanez, we are exiles now," he cried.

The sixty lances of the Cid rode clattering through the town; From cas.e.m.e.nt and from turret-top the burgher-folk looked down.

Sore were their hearts and salt their eyen as Roderick rode by; "There goes a worthy va.s.sal who has known bad mastery."

And many a roof that night had sheltered Roderick and his band But for the dread in Burgos of Alfonso's heavy hand.

The missive broad with kingly seals had run throughout the town: "Who aids the Cid in banishment, his house shall be cast down."

So as the train rode through the streets each eye was turned aside, All silent was the town-house where the Cid was wont to bide; Both lock and bar were on the gates, he might not enter there.

Then from a cas.e.m.e.nt spoke a maid who had the house in care: "My lord Don Roderick, who took the sword in happy hour, The King hath sent a letter broad to ban from hall and bower Both thee and all thy company, 'tis doom to shelter one; Never again who aids thee shall his eyes look on the sun.

Now go, and G.o.ddes help with thee, thy pity we implore; In all broad Spain thou canst not lack, O Cid Campeador."

Finding no place to lay their heads within the town, the Cid with his men rode disconsolately to the plain of Glera, to the east of Burgos, where he pitched his tents on the banks of the river Arlanzon. To him came Martin Antolinez, one of his former va.s.sals, who brought food and wine for all his train and strove to comfort him. Not a maravedi had the Cid, and how to furnish his men with arms and food he knew not. But he and Antolinez took counsel together, and hit upon a plan by which they hoped to procure the necessary sinews of war. Taking two large chests, they covered them with red leather and studded them with gilt nails, so that they made a brave outward show. Then they filled the chests with sand from the river-banks and locked them securely.

Money-lending in the Eleventh Century

"Martin Antolinez," said the Cid, "thou art a true man and a good va.s.sal. Go thou to the Jews Raquel and Vidas, and tell them I have much treasure which I desire to leave with them since it is too weighty to carry along with me. Pledge thou these chests with them for what may seem reasonable. I call G.o.d and all His saints to witness that I do this thing because I am driven to extremity and for the sake of those who depend upon me." Antolinez, rather fearful of his mission, sought out the Jews Raquel and Vidas where they counted out their wealth and their profits. He told them that the Cid had levied much tribute which he found it impossible to carry with him, and that he would pledge this with them if they would lend him a reasonable sum upon it. But he stipulated that they must solemnly bind themselves not to open the chests for a year to come. The Jews took counsel together, and consented to hide the chests and not to look upon their contents for a year at least.

"But tell us," they said, "what sum will content the Cid, and what interest will he give us for the year?"

"Needy men gather to my lord the Cid from all sides," replied Antolinez. "He will require at least six hundred marks."

"We will willingly give that sum," said Raquel and Vidas, "for the treasure of such a great lord as the Cid must indeed be immense."

"Hasten then," said Antolinez, "for night approaches, and my lord the Cid is under decree of banishment to quit Castile at once."

"Nay," said the Jews, after the manner of their kind. "Business is not done thus, but by first taking and then giving." They then requested to be taken to where the Cid lay, and having greeted him, paid over the sum agreed upon. They were surprised and delighted at the weight of the chests, and departed well satisfied, giving Antolinez a present or commission of thirty golden marks for the share he had taken in the business.

Donna Ximena