CHAPTER LXXVI.
How two friars arrived at the camp; and how they
came from the Holy Land.
"While the holy Christian army,"
says Fray Antonio Agapida, "was thus
beleaguering this infidel city of Baza,
there rode into the camp, one day, two
reverend friars of the order of Saint
Francis. One was of portly person, and
authoritative air. He bestrode a goodly
steed, well conditioned, and well caparisoned;
while his companion rode behind
him, upon a humble hack, poorly
accoutred; and, as he rode, he scarcely
raised his eyes from the ground, but
maintained a meek and lowly air.
The arrival of two friars in the camp
was not a matter of much note; for, in
these holy wars, the church militant continually
mingled in the affray, and helmet
and cowl were always seen together; but
it was soon discovered, that these worthy
saints errant were from a far country,
and on a mission of great import. They
were, in truth, just arrived from the Holy
Land; being two of the saintly men who
kept vigil over the sepulchre of our blessed
Lord at Jerusalem. He, of the tall
and portly form, and commanding presence,
was Fray Antonio Millan, prior of
the Franciscan convent in the Holy City.
He had a full and florid countenance, a
sonorous voice, and was round, and
swelling, and copious, in his periods,
like one accustomed to harangue, and to
be listened to with deference. His companion
was small and spare in form,
pale of visage, and soft, and silken, and
almost whispering, in speech. "He had
a humble and lowly way," said Agapida;
"evermore bowing the head, as became
one of his calling. Yet he was one of
the most active, zealous, and effective
brothers of the convent; and, when he
raised his small black eye from the earth,
there was a keen glance out of the corner,
which showed, that, though harmless as
a dove, he was, nevertheless, as wise as
a serpent."
These holy men had come on a momentous
embassy, from the Grand Soldan
of Egypt; or, as Agapida terms him, in
the language of the day, the Soldan of
Babylon. The league, which had been
made between that potentate and his arch
foe, the Grand Turk, Bajazet II., to unite
in arms for the salvation of Granada, as
has been mentioned in a previous chapter
of this chronicle, had come to nought.
The infidel princes had again taken up
arms against each other, and had relapsed
into their ancient hostility. Still
the Grand Soldan, as head of the whole
Moslem sect, considered himself bound
to preserve the kingdom of Granada
from the grasp of unbelievers. He despatched,
therefore, these two holy friars,
with letters to the Castilian sovereigns,
as well as to the pope, and to the King of
Naples; remonstrating against the evils
done to the Moors of the kingdom of
Granada, who were of his faith and
kindred: whereas, it was well known,
that great numbers of Christians were
indulged and protected in the full enjoyment
of their property, their liberty, and
their faith, in his dominions. He insisted,
therefore, that this war should cease;
that the Moors of Granada should be
reinstated in the territory of which they
had been dispossessed: otherwise, he
threatened to put to death all the Christians
beneath his sway, to demolish their
convents and temples, and to destroy the
Holy Sepulchre.
This fearful menace had spread consternation
among the Christians of Palestine;
and when the intrepid Fray Antonio
Millan and his lowly companions departed
on their mission, they were accompanied
far from the gates of Jerusalem by an
anxious throng of brethren and disciples,
who remained watching them with tearful
eyes, as they journeyed over the plains
of Judea.
These holy ambassadors were received
with great distinction by King Ferdinand;
for men of their cloth had ever high honour
and consideration in his court. He
had long and frequent conversations with
them, about the Holy Land, the state of
the Christian church in the dominions of
the Grand Soldan, and of the policy and
conduct of that arch infidel towards it.
The portly prior of the Franciscan convent
was full, and round, and oratorical
in his replies, and the king expressed
himself much pleased with the eloquence
of his periods: but the politic monarch
was observed to lend a close and attentive
ear to the whispering voice of the
lowly companion; "whose discourse,"
adds Agapida, "though modest and low,
was clear and fluent, and full of subtle
wisdom."
These holy friars had visited Rome in
their journeying, where they had delivered
the letter of the Soldan to the
sovereign pontiff. His holiness had written
by them to the Castilian sovereigns,
requesting to know what reply they had
to offer to this demand of the oriental
potentate.
The King of Naples also wrote to
them on the subject, but in wary terms.
He inquired into the cause of this war
with the Moors of Granada, and expressed
great marvel at its events; "as if,"
says Agapida, "both were not notorious
throughout all the Christian world. Nay,"
adds the worthy friar, with becoming indignation,
"he uttered opinions savouring
of little better than damnable heresy; for
he observed, that although the Moors
were of a different sect, they ought not
to be maltreated without just cause; and
hinted, that, if the Castilian sovereigns
did not suffer any crying injury from the
Moors, it would be improper to do any
thing which might draw great damage
upon the Christians: as if, when once
the sword of the faith was drawn, it ought
ever to be sheathed, until this scum of
heathendom were utterly destroyed, or
driven from the land. But this monarch,"
he continues, "was more kindly disposed
towards the infidels, than was honest and
lawful in a Christian prince, and was at
that very time in league with the Soldan,
against their common enemy, the Grand
Turk."
These pious sentiments of the truly
catholic Agapida are echoed by Padre
Mariana, in his history;[101]
but the worthy
chronicler, Pedro Abarca, attributes the
interference of the King of Naples, not
to lack of orthodoxy in religion, but to
an excess of worldly policy; he being
apprehensive, that, should Ferdinand
conquer the Moors of Granada, he might
have time and means to assert a claim
of the house of Aragon to the crown of
Naples.
"King Ferdinand," continues the worthy
father Pedro Abarca, "was no less
master of dissimulation than his cousin
of Naples; so he replied to him with the
utmost suavity of manner; going into a
minute and patient vindication of the
war, and taking great apparent pains to
inform him of those things, which all the
world knew, but of which the other pretended
to be ignorant."[102]
At the same
time, he soothed his solicitude about the
fate of the Christians in the empire of the
Grand Soldan; assuring him that the
great revenue extorted from them in rents
and tributes, would be a certain protection
against the threatened violence.
To the pope, he made the usual vindication
of the war; that it was for the
recovery of ancient territory usurped by
the Moors, for the punishment of wars
and violences inflicted upon the Christians;
and, finally, that it was a holy
crusade, for the glory and advancement
of the church.
"It was a truly edifying sight," says
Agapida, "to behold these friars, after
they had had their audience of the king,
moving about the camp, always surrounded
by nobles and cavaliers of high
and martial renown. These were insatiable
in their questions about the Holy
Land, the state of the sepulchre of our
Lord, and the sufferings of the devoted
brethren who guarded it, and the pious
pilgrims who resorted there to pay their
vows. The portly prior of the convent
would stand, with lofty and shining
countenance, in the midst of these iron
warriors, and declaim with resounding
eloquence on the history of the sepulchre;
but the humble brother would ever
and anon sigh deeply, and, in low tones,
utter some late of suffering and outrage,
at which his steel-clad hearers would
grasp the hilts of their swords, and mutter
between their clenched teeth prayers for
another crusade."
The pious friars, having finished their
mission to the king, and been treated
with all due distinction, took their leave,
and wended their way to Jaen, to visit
the most catholic of queens. Isabella,
whose heart was the seat of piety, received
them as sacred men, invested with
more than human dignity. During their
residence at Jaen, they were continually
in the royal presence; the respectable
prior of the convent moved and melted
the ladies of the court by his florid
rhetoric; but his lowly companion was
observed to have continual access to the
royal ear. "That saintly and soft-spoken
messenger," says Agapida, "received the
reward of his humility; for the queen,
moved by his frequent representations,
made in all modesty and lowliness of
spirit, granted a yearly sum in perpetuity
of one thousand ducats in gold for
the support of the monks of the convents
of the Holy Sepulchre."[103]
Moreover, on the departure of these
holy ambassadors, the excellent and most
catholic queen delivered to them a veil
devoutly embroidered with her own royal
hands, to be placed over the Holy Sepulchre.
A precious and inestimable present,
which called forth a most eloquent
tribute of thanks from the portly prior,
but which brought tears into the eyes of
his lowly companion.[104]
