DEATH OF THE MARQUES OF CADIZ.
The renowned Roderigo Ponce de Leon, Marques, Duke
of Cadiz, was unquestionably the most distinguished among
the cavaliers of Spain, for his zeal, enterprise, and heroism,
in the great crusade of Granada. He began the war by the
capture of Alhama; he was engaged in almost every inroad
and siege of importance, during its continuance; and he was
present at the surrender of the capital, which was the closing
scene of the conquest. The renown he thus acquired was
sealed by his death, which happened in the forty-eighth year
of his age, almost immediately at the close of his triumphs,
and before a leaf of his laurels had time to wither. He died
at his palace in the city of Seville, on the 27th day of August,
1492, but a few months after the surrender of Granada, and
of an illness caused by the exposures and fatigues he had undergone
in this memorable war. That honest chronicler,
Andres Bernaldes, the curate of Los Palacios, who was a
contemporary of the marques, draws his portrait from actual
knowledge and observation. He was universally cited (says
he) as the most perfect model of chivalrous virtue of the
age. He was temperate, chaste, and rigidly devout; a benignant
commander, a valiant defender of his vassals, a great
lover of justice, and an enemy to all flatterers, liars, robbers,
traitors, and poltroons.
His ambition was of a lofty kind—he sought to distinguish
himself and his family, by heroic and resounding deeds; and
to increase the patrimony of his ancestors, by the acquisition
of castles, domains, vassals, and other princely possessions.
His recreations were all of a warlike nature; he delighted
in geometry as applied to fortifications, and spent much time
and treasure in erecting and repairing fortresses. He relished
music, but of a military kind—the sound of clarions and sackbuts,
of drums and trumpets. Like a true cavalier, he was
a protector of the sex on all occasions, and an injured woman
never applied to him in vain for redress. His prowess was
so well known, and his courtesy to the fair, that the ladies of
the court, when they accompanied the queen to the wars,
rejoiced to find themselves under his protection; for wherever
his banner was displayed, the Moors dreaded to adventure.
He was a faithful and devoted friend, but a formidable enemy;
for he was slow to forgive, and his vengeance was persevering
and terrible.
The death of this good cavalier spread grief and lamentation
throughout all ranks, for he was universally honored and
beloved. His relations, dependants, and companions in arms,
put on mourning for his loss; and so numerous were they,
that half of Seville was clad in black. None, however, deplored
his death more deeply and sincerely than his friend
and chosen companion, Don Alonzo de Aguilar.
The funeral ceremonies were of the most solemn and sumptuous
kind. The body of the marques was arrayed in a costly
shirt, a doublet of brocade, a sayo or long robe of black velvet,
a marlota or Moorish tunic of brocade that reached to
the feet, and scarlet stockings. His sword, superbly gilt,
was girded to his side, as he used to wear it when in the
field. Thus magnificently attired, the body was inclosed in a
coffin, which was covered with black velvet, and decorated
with a cross of white damask. It was then placed on a sumptuous
bier, in the centre of the great hall of the palace. Here
the duchess made great lamentation over the body of her
lord, in which she was joined by her train of damsels and attendants,
as well as by the pages and esquires, and innumerable
vassals of the marques.
In the close of the evening, just before the Ave Maria, the
funeral train issued from the palace. Ten banners were borne
around the bier, the particular trophies of the marques, won
from the Moors by his valor in individual enterprises, before
king Ferdinand had commenced the war of Granada. The
procession was swelled by an immense train of bishops,
priests, and friars of different orders, together with the civil
and military authorities, and all the chivalry of Seville, headed
by the count of Cifuentes, at that time intendente or commander
of the city. It moved slowly and solemnly through
the streets, stopping occasionally, and chanting litanies and
responses. Two hundred and forty waxen tapers shed a light
like the day about the bier. The balconies and windows
were crowded with ladies, who shed tears as the funeral
train passed by; while the women of the lower classes were
loud in their lamentations, as if bewailing the loss of a father
or a brother. On approaching the convent of St. Augustine,
the monks came forth with the cross and tapers, and eight
censers, and conducted the body into the church, where it
lay in state until all the vigils were performed, by the different
orders; after which it was deposited in the family tomb
of the Ponces in the same church, and the ten banners were
suspended over the sepulchre.
[2]
The tomb of the valiant Roderigo Ponce de Leon, with his
banners mouldering above it, remained for ages an object of
veneration with all who had read or heard of his virtues and
achievements. In the year 1810, however, the chapel was
sacked by the French, its altars overturned, and the sepulchres
of the family of the Ponces shattered to pieces. The
present duchess of Benevente, the worthy descendant of this
illustrious and heroic line, has since piously collected the
ashes of her ancestors, restored the altar, and repaired the
chapel. The sepulchres, however, were utterly destroyed;
an inscription in gold letters, on the wall of the chapel, to the
right of the altar, is all that denotes the place of sepulture of
the brave Ponce de Leon.
