The History of the Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella the Catholic Volume III Part 34

1516, 1517.

Ximenes Governor of Castile.--Charles Proclaimed King.--Ximenes's Domestic Policy.--He Intimidates the n.o.bles.--Public Discontents.--Charles Lands in Spain.--His Ingrat.i.tude to Ximenes.--The Cardinal's Illness and Death.-- His Extraordinary Character.

The personal history of Ferdinand the Catholic terminates, of course, with the preceding chapter. In order to bring the history of his reign, however, to a suitable close, it is necessary to continue the narrative through the brief regency of Ximenes, to the period when the government was delivered into the hands of Ferdinand's grandson and successor, Charles the Fifth.

By the testament of the deceased monarch, as we have seen, Cardinal Ximenez de Cisneros was appointed sole regent of Castile. He met with opposition, however, from Adrian, the dean of Louvain, who produced powers of similar purport from Prince Charles. Neither party could boast a sufficient warrant for exercising this important trust; the one claiming it by the appointment of an individual, who, acting merely as regent himself, had certainly no right to name his successor; while the other had only the sanction of a prince, who, at the time of giving it, had no jurisdiction whatever in Castile. The misunderstanding which ensued, was finally settled by an agreement of the parties to share the authority in common, till further instructions should be received from Charles. [1]

It was not long before they arrived. They confirmed the cardinal's authority in the fullest manner; while they spoke of Adrian only as an amba.s.sador, They intimated, however, the most entire confidence in the latter; and the two prelates continued as before to administer the government jointly. Ximenes sacrificed nothing by this arrangement; for the tame and quiet temper of Adrian was too much overawed by the bold genius of his partner, to raise any opposition to his measures. [2]

The first requisition of prince Charles, was one that taxed severely the power and popularity of the new regent. This was to have himself proclaimed king; a measure extremely distasteful to the Castilians, who regarded it not only as contrary to established usage, during the lifetime of his mother, but as ah indignity to her. It was in vain that Ximenes and the council remonstrated on the impropriety and impolicy of the measure.

[3] Charles, fortified by his Flemish advisers, st.u.r.dily persisted in his purpose. The cardinal, consequently, called a meeting of the prelates and princ.i.p.al n.o.bles in Madrid, to which he had transferred the seat of government, and whose central position and other local advantages made it, from this time forward, with little variation, the regular capital of the kingdom. [4] The doctor Carbajal prepared a studied and plausible argument in support of the measure. [5] As it failed, however, to produce conviction in his audience, Ximenes, chafed by the opposition, and probably distrusting its real motives, peremptorily declared, that those who refused to acknowledge Charles as king, in the present state of things, would refuse to obey him when he was so. "I will have him proclaimed in Madrid to-morrow," said he, "and I doubt not every other city in the kingdom will follow the example." He was as good as his word; and the conduct of the capital was imitated, with little opposition, by all the other cities in Castile. Not so in Aragon, whose people were too much attached to their inst.i.tutions to consent to it, till Charles first made oath in person to respect the laws and liberties of the realm. [6]

The Castilian aristocracy, it may be believed, did not much relish the new yoke imposed on them by their priestly regent. On one occasion, it is said, they went in a body and demanded of Ximenes by what powers he held the government so absolutely. He referred them for answer to Ferdinand's testament and Charles's letter. As they objected to these, he led them to a window of the apartment, and showed them a park of artillery below, exclaiming, at the same time. "There are my credentials, then!" The story is characteristic; but, though often repeated, must be admitted to stand on slender authority. [7]

One of the regent's first acts was the famous ordinance, encouraging the burgesses, by liberal rewards, to enroll themselves into companies, and submit to regular military training, at stated seasons. The n.o.bles saw the operation of this measure too well, not to use all their efforts to counteract it. In this they succeeded for a time, as the cardinal, with his usual boldness, had ventured on it without waiting for Charles's sanction, and in opposition to most of the council. The resolute spirit of the minister, however, eventually triumphed over all resistance, and a national corps was organized, competent, under proper guidance, to protect the liberties of the people, but which, unfortunately, was ultimately destined to be turned against them. [8]

Armed with this strong physical force, the cardinal now projected the boldest schemes of reform, especially in the finances, which had fallen into some disorder in the latter days of Ferdinand. He made a strict inquisition into the funds of the military orders, in which there had been much waste and misappropriation; he suppressed all superfluous offices in the state, retrenched excessive salaries, and cut short the pensions granted by Ferdinand and Isabella, which he contended should determine with their lives. Unfortunately, the state was not materially benefited by these economical arrangements, since the greater part of what was thus saved was drawn off to supply the waste and cupidity of the Flemish court, who dealt with Spain with all the merciless rapacity that could be shown to a conquered province. [9]

The foreign administration of the regent displayed the same courage and vigor. a.r.s.enals were established in the southern maritime towns, and a numerous fleet was equipped in the Mediterranean, against the Barbary corsairs. A large force was sent into Navarre, which defeated an invading army of French; and the cardinal followed up the blow by demolis.h.i.+ng the princ.i.p.al fortresses of the kingdom; a precautionary measure, to which, in all probability, Spain owes the permanent preservation of her conquest.

[10]

The regent's eye penetrated to the farthest limits of the monarchy. He sent a commission to Hispaniola, to inquire into, and ameliorate, the condition of the natives. At the same time he earnestly opposed (though without success, being overruled in this by the Flemish counsellors,) the introduction of negro slaves into the colonies, which, he predicted, from the character of the race, must ultimately result in a servile war. It is needless to remark, how well the event has verified the prediction. [11]

It is with less satisfaction that we must contemplate his policy in regard to the Inquisition. As head of that tribunal, he enforced its authority and pretensions to the utmost. He extended a branch of it to Oran, and also to the Canaries, and the New World. [12] In 1512, the _new Christians_ had offered Ferdinand a large sum of money to carry on the Navarrese war, if he would cause the trials before that tribunal to be conducted in the same manner as in other courts, where the accuser and the evidence were confronted openly with the defendant. To this reasonable pet.i.tion Ximenes objected, on the wretched plea, that, in that event, none would be found willing to undertake the odious business of informer. He backed his remonstrance with such a liberal donative from his own funds, as supplied the king's immediate exigency, and effectually closed his heart against the pet.i.tioners. The application was renewed in 1516, by the unfortunate Israelites, who offered a liberal supply in like manner to Charles, on similar terms. But the proposal, to which his Flemish counsellors, who may be excused, at least, from the reproach of bigotry, would have inclined the young monarch, was firmly rejected through the interposition of Ximenes. [13]

The high-handed measures of the minister, while they disgusted the aristocracy, gave great umbrage to the dean of Louvain, who saw himself reduced to a mere cipher in the administration. In consequence of his representations a second, and afterwards a third minister was sent to Castile, with authority to divide the government with the cardinal. But all this was of little avail. On one occasion, the co-regents ventured to rebuke their haughty partner, and a.s.sert their own dignity, by subscribing their names first to the despatches, and then sending them to him for his signature. But Ximenes coolly ordered his secretary to tear the paper in pieces, and make out a new one, which he signed, and sent out without the partic.i.p.ation of his brethren. And this course he continued during the remainder of his administration. [14]

The cardinal not only a.s.sumed the sole responsibility of the most important public acts, but, in the execution of them, seldom condescended to calculate the obstacles or the odds arrayed against him. He was thus brought into collision, at the same time, with three of the most powerful grandees of Castile; the dukes of Alva and Infantado, and the count of Urena. Don Pedro Giron, the son of the latter, with several other young n.o.blemen, had maltreated and resisted the royal officers, while in the discharge of their duty. They then took refuge in the little town of Villafrata, which they fortified and prepared for a defence. The cardinal without hesitation mustered several thousand of the national militia, and, investing the place, set it on fire, and deliberately razed it to the ground. The refractory n.o.bles, struck with consternation, submitted. Their friends interceded for them in the most humble manner; and the cardinal, whose lofty spirit disdained to trample on a fallen foe, showed his usual clemency by soliciting their pardon from the king. [15]

But neither the talents nor authority of Ximenes, it was evident, could much longer maintain subordination among the people, exasperated by the shameless extortions of the Flemings, and the little interest shown for them by their new sovereign. The most considerable offices in church and state were put up to sale; and the kingdom was drained of its funds by the large remittances continually made, on one pretext or another, to Flanders. All this brought odium, undeserved indeed, on the cardinal's government; [16] for there is abundant evidence, that both he and the council remonstrated in the boldest manner on these enormities; while they endeavored to inspire n.o.bler sentiments in Charles's bosom, by recalling the wise and patriotic administration of his grandparents. [17] The people, in the mean while, outraged by these excesses, and despairing of redress from a higher quarter, loudly clamored for a convocation of cortes, that they might take the matter into their own hands. The cardinal evaded this as long as possible. He was never a friend to popular a.s.semblies, much less in the present inflamed state of public feeling, and in the absence of the sovereign. He was more anxious for his return than any other individual, probably, in the kingdom. Braved by the aristocracy at home, thwarted in every favorite measure by the Flemings abroad, with an injured, indignant people to control, and oppressed, moreover, by infirmities and years, even his stern, inflexible spirit could scarcely sustain him under a burden too grievous, in these circ.u.mstances, for any subject. [18]

At length, the young monarch, having made all preliminary arrangements, prepared, though still in opposition to the wishes of his courtiers, to embark for his Spanish dominions. Previously to this, on the 13th of August, 1516, the French and Spanish plenipotentiaries signed a treaty of peace at Noyon. The princ.i.p.al article stipulated the marriage of Charles to the daughter of Francis the First, who was to cede, as her dowry, the French claims on Naples. The marriage, indeed, never took place. But the treaty itself may be considered as finally adjusting the hostile relations which had subsisted, during so many years of Ferdinand's reign, with the rival monarchy of France, and as closing the long series of wars, which had grown out of the league of Cambray. [19]

On the 17th of September, 1517, Charles landed at Villaviciosa, in the Asturias. Ximenes at this time lay ill at the Franciscan monastery of Aguilera, near Aranda on the Douro. The good tidings of the royal landing operated like a cordial on his spirits, and he instantly despatched letters to the young monarch, filled with wholesome counsel as to the conduct he should pursue, in order to conciliate the affections of the people. He received at the same time messages from the king, couched in the most gracious terms, and expressing the liveliest interest in his restoration to health.

The Flemings in Charles's suite, however, looked with great apprehension to his meeting with the cardinal. They had been content that the latter should rule the state, when his arm was needed to curb the Castilian aristocracy; but they dreaded the ascendency of his powerful mind over their young sovereign, when brought into personal contact with him. They r.e.t.a.r.ded this event, by keeping Charles in the north as long as possible.

In the mean time, they endeavored to alienate his regards from the minister by exaggerated reports of his arbitrary conduct and temper, rendered more morose by the peevishness of age. Charles showed a facility to be directed by those around him in early years, which gave little augury of the greatness to which he afterwards rose. [20]

By the persuasions of his evil counsellors, he addressed that memorable letter to Ximenes, which is unmatched, even in court annals, for cool and base ingrat.i.tude. He thanked the regent for all his past services, named a place for a personal interview with him, where he might obtain the benefit of his counsels for his own conduct, and the government of the kingdom; after which he would be allowed to retire to his diocese, and seek from Heaven that reward, which Heaven alone could adequately bestow! [21]

Such was the tenor of this cold-blooded epistle, which, in the language of more than one writer, killed the cardinal. This, however, is stating the matter too strongly. The spirit of Ximenes was of too stern a stuff to be so easily extinguished by the breath of royal displeasure. [22] He was, indeed, deeply moved by the desertion of the sovereign whom he had served so faithfully, and the excitement which it occasioned brought on a return of his fever, according to Carbajal, in full force. But anxiety and disease had already done its work upon his once hardy const.i.tution; and this ungrateful act could only serve to wean him more effectually from a world that he was soon to part with. [23]

In order to be near the king, he had previously transferred his residence to Roa. He now turned his thoughts to his approaching end. Death may be supposed to have but little terrors for the statesman, who in his last moments could aver, "that he had never intentionally wronged any man; but had rendered to every one his due, without being swayed, as far as he was conscious, by fear or affection." Yet Cardinal Richelieu on his death-bed declared the same! [24]

As a last attempt, he began a letter to the king. His fingers refused, however, to perform their office, and after tracing a few lines he gave it up. The purport of these seems to have been, to recommend his university at Alcala to the royal protection. He now became wholly occupied with his devotions, and manifested such contrition for his errors, and such humble confidence in the divine mercy, as deeply affected all present. In this tranquil frame of mind, and in the perfect possession of his powers, he breathed his last, November 8th, 1517, in the eighty-first year of his age, and the twenty-second since his elevation to the primacy. The last words that he uttered were those of the Psalmist, which he used frequently to repeat in health, "In te, Domine, speravi,"--"In thee, Lord, have I trusted."

His body, arrayed in his pontifical robes, was seated in a chair of state, and mult.i.tudes of all degrees thronged into the apartment to kiss the hands and feet. It was afterwards transported to Alcala, and laid in the chapel of the n.o.ble college of San Ildefonso, erected by himself. His obsequies were celebrated with great pomp, contrary to his own orders, by, all the religious and literary fraternities of the city; and his virtues commemorated in a funeral discourse by a doctor of the university, who, considering the death of the good a fitting occasion to lash the vices of the living, made the most caustic allusion to the Flemish favorites of Charles, and their pestilent influence on the country. [25]

Such was the end of this remarkable man; the most remarkable, in many respects, of his time. His character was of that stern and lofty cast, which seems to rise above the ordinary wants and weaknesses of humanity; his genius of the severest order, like Dante's and Michael Angelo's in the regions of fancy, impresses us with ideas of power, that excite admiration akin to terror. His enterprises, as we have seen, were of the boldest character. His execution of them equally bold. He disdained to woo fortune by any of those soft and pliant arts, which are often the most effectual.

He pursued his ends by the most direct means. In this way he frequently multiplied difficulties; but difficulties seemed to have a charm for him, by the opportunity they afforded of displaying the energies of his soul.

With these qualities he combined a versatility of talent, usually found only in softer and more flexible characters. Though bred in the cloister, he distinguished himself both in the cabinet and the camp. For the latter, indeed, so repugnant to his regular profession, he had a natural genius, according to the testimony of his biographer; and he evinced his relish for it, by declaring, that "the smell of gunpowder was more grateful to him than the sweetest perfume of Arabia!" [26] In every situation, however, he exhibited the stamp of his peculiar calling; and the stern lineaments of the monk were never wholly concealed under the mask of the statesman, or the visor of the warrior. He had a full measure of the religious bigotry which belonged to the age; and he had melancholy scope for displaying it, as chief of that dread tribunal, over which he presided during the last ten years of his life. [27]

He carried the arbitrary ideas of his profession into political life. His regency was conducted on the principles of a military despotism. It was his maxim, that "a prince must rely mainly on his army for securing the respect and obedience of his subjects." [28] It is true he had to deal with a martial and factious n.o.bility, and the end which he proposed was to curb their licentiousness, and enforce the equitable administration of justice; but, in accomplis.h.i.+ng this, he showed little regard to the const.i.tution, or to private rights. His first act, the proclaiming of Charles king, was in open contempt of the usages and rights of the nation.

He evaded the urgent demands of the Castilians for a convocation of cortes; for it was his opinion, "that freedom of speech, especially in regard to their own grievances, made the people insolent and irreverent to their rulers." [29] The people, of course, had no voice in the measures which involved their most important interests. His whole policy, indeed, was to exalt the royal prerogative, at the expense of the inferior orders of the state. [30] And his regency, short as it was, and highly beneficial to the country in many respects, must be considered as opening the way to that career of despotism, which the Austrian family followed up with such hard-hearted constancy.

But, while we condemn the politics, we cannot but respect the principles of the man. However erroneous his conduct in our eyes, he was guided by his sense of duty. It was this, and the conviction of it in the minds of others, which const.i.tuted the secret of his great power. It made him reckless of difficulties, and fearless of all personal consequences. The consciousness of the integrity of his purposes rendered him, indeed, too unscrupulous as to the means of attaining them. He held his own life cheap, in comparison with the great reforms that he had at heart. Was it surprising, that he should hold as lightly the convenience and interests of others, when they thwarted their execution?

His views were raised far above considerations of self. As a statesman, he identified himself with the state; as a churchman, with the interests of his religion. He severely punished every offence against these. He as freely forgave every personal injury. He had many remarkable opportunities of showing this. His administration provoked numerous lampoons and libels.

He despised them, as the miserable solace of spleen and discontent, and never persecuted their authors. [31] In this he formed an honorable contrast to Cardinal Richelieu, whose character and condition suggest many points of resemblance with his own.

His disinterestedness was further shown by his mode of dispensing his large revenues. It was among the poor, and on great public objects. He built up no family. He had brothers and nephews; but he contented himself with making their condition comfortable, without diverting to their benefit the great trusts confided to him for the public. [32] The greater part of the funds which he left at his death was settled on the university of Alcala. [33]

He had, however, none of that pride, which would make him ashamed of his poor and humble relatives. He had, indeed, a confidence in his own powers, approaching to arrogance, which led him to undervalue the abilities of others, and to look on them as his instruments rather than his equals. But he had none of the vulgar pride founded on wealth or station. He frequently alluded to his lowly condition in early life, with great humility, thanking Heaven, with tears in his eyes, for its extraordinary goodness to him. He not only remembered, but did many acts of kindness to his early friends, of which more than one touching anecdote is related.

Such traits of sensibility, gleaming through the natural austerity and sternness of a disposition like his, like light breaking through a dark cloud, affect us the more sensibly by contrast.

He was irreproachable in his morals, and conformed literally to all the rigid exactions of his severe order, in the court as faithfully as in the cloister. He was sober, abstemious, chaste. In the latter particular, he was careful that no suspicion of the license which so often soiled the clergy of the period, should attach--to him. [34] On one occasion, while on a journey, he was invited to pa.s.s the night at the house of the d.u.c.h.ess of Maqueda, being informed that she was absent. The d.u.c.h.ess was at home, however, and entered the apartment before he retired to rest. "You have deceived me, lady," said Ximenes, rising in anger; "if you have any business with me, you will find me tomorrow at the confessional." So saying, he abruptly left the palace. [35]

He carried his austerities and mortifications so far, as to endanger his health. There is a curious brief extant of Pope Leo the Tenth, dated the last year of the cardinal's life, enjoining him to abate his severe penance, to eat meat and eggs on the ordinary fasts, to take off his Franciscan frock, and sleep in linen and on a bed. He would never consent, however, to divest himself of his monastic weeds. "Even laymen," said he, alluding to the custom of the Roman Catholics, "put these on when they are dying; and shall I, who have worn them all my life, take them off at that time!" [36]

Another anecdote is told in relation to his dress. Over his coa.r.s.e woollen frock, he wore the costly apparel suited to his rank. An impertinent Franciscan preacher took occasion one day before him to launch out against the luxuries of the time, especially in dress, obviously alluding to the cardinal, who was attired in a superb suit of ermine, which had been presented to him. He heard the sermon, patiently to the end, and after the services were concluded, took the preacher into the sacristy, and, having commended the general tenor of his discourse, showed under his furs and fine linen the coa.r.s.e frock of his order, next his skin. Some accounts add, that the friar, on the other hand, wore fine linen under his monkish frock. After the cardinal's death, a little box was found in his apartment, containing the implements with which he used to mend the rents of his threadbare garment, with his own hands. [37]

With so much to do, it may well be believed, that Ximenes was avaricious of time. He seldom slept more than four, or at most four hours and a half.

He was shaved in the night, hearing at the same time some edifying reading. He followed the same practice at his meals, or varied it with listening to the arguments of some of his theological brethren, generally on some subtile question of school divinity. This was his only recreation.

He had as little taste as time for lighter and more elegant amus.e.m.e.nts. He spoke briefly, and always to the point. He was no friend of idle ceremonies, and useless visits; though his situation exposed him more or less to both. He frequently had a volume lying open on the table before him, and when his visitor stayed too long, or took up his time with light and frivolous conversation, he intimated his dissatisfaction by resuming his reading. The cardinal's book must have been as fatal to a reputation as Fontenelle's ear trumpet. [38]

I will close this sketch of Ximenes de Cisneros with a brief outline of his person. His complexion was sallow; his countenance sharp and emaciated; his nose aquiline; his upper lip projected far over the lower.

His eyes were small, deep-set in his head, dark, vivid, and penetrating.

His forehead ample, and, what was remarkable, without a wrinkle, though the expression of his features was somewhat severe. [39] His voice was clear, but not agreeable; his enunciation measured and precise. His demeanor was grave, his carriage firm and erect; he was tall in stature, and his whole presence commanding. His const.i.tution, naturally robust, was impaired by his severe austerities and severer cares; and, in the latter years of his life, was so delicate as to be extremely sensible to the vicissitudes and inclemency of the weather. [40]

I have noticed the resemblance which Ximenes bore to the great French minister, Cardinal Richelieu. It was, after all, however, more in the circ.u.mstances of situation, than in their characters; though the most prominent traits of these were not dissimilar. [41] Both, though bred ecclesiastics, reached the highest honors of the state, and indeed, may be said to have directed the destinies of their countries. [42] Richelieu's authority, however, was more absolute than that of Ximenes, for he was screened by the shadow of royalty; while the latter was exposed, by his insulated and unsheltered position, to the full blaze of envy, and, of course, opposition. Both were ambitious of military glory, and showed capacity for attaining it. Both achieved their great results by that rare union of high mental endowments and great efficiency in action, which is always irresistible.

The moral basis of their characters was entirely different. The French cardinal's was selfishness, pure and unmitigated. His religion, politics, his principles in short, in every sense, were subservient to this.

Offences against the state he could forgive; those against himself he pursued with implacable rancor. His authority was literally cemented with blood. His immense powers and patronage were perverted to the aggrandizement of his family. Though bold to temerity in his plans, he betrayed more than once a want of true courage in their execution. Though violent and impetuous, he could stoop to be a dissembler. Though arrogant in the extreme, he courted the soft incense of flattery. In his manners he had the advantage over the Spanish prelate. He could be a courtier in courts, and had a more refined and cultivated taste. In one respect, he had the advantage over Ximenes in morals. He was not, like him, a bigot.

He had not the religious basis in his composition, which is the foundation of bigotry.--Their deaths were typical of their characters. Richelieu died, as he had lived, so deeply execrated, that the enraged populace would scarcely allow his remains to be laid quietly in the grave. Ximenes, on the contrary, was buried amid the tears and lamentations of the people; his memory was honored even by his enemies, and his name is reverenced by his countrymen, to this day, as that of a Saint.

Dr. Lorenzo Galindez de Carbajal, one of the best authorities for transactions in the latter part of our History, was born of a respectable family, at Placencia, in 1472. Little is gathered of his early life, but that he was studious in his habits, devoting himself a.s.siduously to the acquisition of the civil and canon law. He filled the chair of professor in this department, at Salamanca, for several years. His great attainments and respectable character recommended him to the notice of the Catholic queen, who gave him a place in the royal council. In this capacity, he was constantly at the court, where he seems to have maintained himself in the esteem of his royal mistress, and of Ferdinand after her death. The queen testified her respect for Carbajal, by appointing him one of the commissioners for preparing a digest of the Castilian law. He made considerable progress in this arduous work; but how great is uncertain, since, from whatever cause, (there appears to be a mystery about it,) the fruits of his labor were made public; a circ.u.mstance deeply regretted by the Castilian jurists. (a.s.so y Manuel, Inst.i.tuciones, Introd. p. 99.)

Carbajal left behind him several historical works, according to Nic.

Antonio, whose catalogue, however, rests on very slender grounds.

(Bibliotheca Nova, tom. ii. p. 3.) The work by which he is best known to Spanish scholars, is his "a.n.a.les del Rey Don Fernando el Catolico," which still remains in ma.n.u.script. There is certainly no Christian country, for which the invention of printing, so liberally patronized there at its birth, has done so little as for Spain. Her libraries teem at this day with ma.n.u.scripts of the greatest interest for the ill.u.s.tration of every stage of her history; but which, alas! in the present gloomy condition of affairs, have less chance of coming to the light, than at the close of the fifteenth century, when the art of printing was in its infancy.

Carbajal's Annals cover the whole ground of our narrative, from the marriage of Ferdinand and Isabella, to the coming of Charles V. into Spain. They are plainly written, without ambition of rhetorical show or refinement. The early part is little better than memoranda of the princ.i.p.al events of the period, with particular notice of all the migrations of the court. In the concluding portion of the work, however, comprehending Ferdinand's death, and the regency of Ximenes, the author is very full and circ.u.mstantial. As he had a conspicuous place in the government, and was always with the court, his testimony in regard to this important period is of the highest value as that of an eye-witness and an actor, and, it may be added, a man of sagacity and sound principles. No better commentary on the merit of his work need be required, than the brief tribute of Alvaro Gomez, the accomplished biographer of Cardinal Ximenes. "Porro Annales Laurentii Galendi Caravajali, quibus vir gravissimus rerumque illarum c.u.m primis particeps quinquaginta ferme annorum memoriam complexus est, haud vulgariter meam operam juverunt." De Rebus Gestis, Praefatio.

FOOTNOTES