University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.

Woe to the ruler who founds his hope of sway
on the weakness or corruption of the people.
The very measures taken by Witiza to perpetuate
his power ensured his downfall. While
the whole nation, under his licentious rule, was
sinking into vice and effeminacy, and the arm of
war was unstrung, the youthful Roderick, son of
Theodofredo, was training up for action in the
stern but wholesome school of adversity. He
instructed himself in the use of arms; became
adroit and vigorous by varied exercises; learned
to despise all danger, and inured himself to hunger
and watchfulness and the rigour of the seasons.

His merits and misfortunes procured him many
friends among the Romans; and when, being
arrived at a fitting age, he undertook to revenge
the wrongs of his father and his kindred, a host
of brave and hardy soldiers flocked to his standard.
With these he made his sudden appearance
in Spain. The friends of his house and the disaffected
of all classes hastened to join him, and

he advanced rapidly and without opposition,
through an unarmed and enervated land.

Witiza saw too late the evil he had brought
upon himself. He made a hasty levy, and took
the field with a scantily equipped and undisciplined
host, but was easily routed and made prisoner,
and the whole kingdom submitted to Don
Roderick.

The ancient city of Toledo, the royal residence
of the Gothic kings, was the scene of high festivity
and solemn ceremonial on the coronation of
the victor. Whether he was elected to the throne
according to the Gothic usage, or seized it by the
right of conquest, is a matter of dispute among
historians, but all agree that the nation submitted
cheerfully to his sway, and looked forward to
prosperity and happiness under their newly elevated
monarch. His appearance and character
seemed to justify the anticipation. He was in
the splendour of youth, and of a majestic presence.
His soul was bold and daring, and
elevated by lofty desires. He had a sagacity
that penetrated the thoughts of men, and a magnificent
spirit that won all hearts. Such is the picture
which ancient writers give of Don Roderick,
when, with all the stern and simple virtues unimpaired,
which he had acquired in adversity and
exile, and flushed with the triumph of a pious
revenge, he ascended the Gothic throne.

Prosperity, however, is the real touchstone of
the human heart; no sooner did Roderick find
himself in possession of the crown, than the love
of power, and the jealousy of rule were awakened
in his breast. His first measure was against
Witiza, who was brought in chains into his presence.
Roderick beheld the captive monarch
with an unpitying eye, remembering only his
wrongs and cruelties to his father. “Let the
evils he has inflicted on others be visited upon
his own head,” said he; “As he did unto Theodofredo,
even so be it done unto him.” So the
eyes of Witiza were put out, and he was thrown
into the same dungeon at Cordova in which
Theodofredo had languished. There he passed
the brief remnant of his days in perpetual darkness,
a prey to wretchedness and remorse.

Roderick now cast an uneasy and suspicious
eye upon Evan and Siseburto, the two sons of
Witiza. Fearful lest they should foment some
secret rebellion, he banished them the kingdom.
They took refuge in the Spanish dominions in
Africa, where they were received and harboured
by Requila, governor of Tangier, out of gratitude
for favours which he had received from their late
father. There they remained, to brood over
their fallen fortunes, and to aid in working out
the future woes of Spain.

Their uncle Oppas, bishop of Seville, who had

been made co-partner, by Witiza, in the archepiscopal
chair at Toledo, would have likewise
fallen under the suspicion of the king; but he
was a man of consummate art, and vast exterior
sanctity, and won upon the good graces of the
monarch. He was suffered, therefore, to retain
his sacred office at Seville; but the see of Toledo
was given in charge to the venerable Urbino;
and the law of Witiza was revoked that dispensed
the clergy from their vows of celibacy.

The jealousy of Roderick for the security of
his crown was soon again aroused, and his measures
were prompt and severe. Having been
informed that the governors of certain castles
and fortresses in Castile and Andalusia had conspired
against him, he caused them to be put to
death and their strong holds to be demolished.
He now went on to imitate the pernicious policy
of his predecessor, throwing down walls and
towers, disarming the people, and thus incapacitating
them from rebellion. A few cities were
permitted to retain their fortifications, but these
were intrusted to alcaydes in whom he had
especial confidence; the greater part of the
kingdom was left defenceless; the nobles, who
had been roused to temporary manhood during
the recent stir of war, sunk back into the inglorious
state of inaction which had disgraced them
during the reign of Witiza, passing their time

in feasting and dancing to the sound of loose and
wanton minstrelsy.[4] It was scarcely possible
to recognize in these idle wassailers and soft
voluptuaries the descendants of the stern and
frugal warriors of the frozen north; who had
braved flood and mountain, and heat and cold,
and had battled their way to empire across half
a world in arms.

They surrounded their youthful monarch, it is
true, with a blaze of military pomp. Nothing
could surpass the splendour of their arms, which
were embossed and enamelled, and enriched
with gold and jewels and curious devices; nothing
could be more gallant and glorious than
their array; it was all plume and banner and
silken pageantry, the gorgeous trappings for tilt
and tourney and courtly revel; but the iron soul
of war was wanting.

How rare it is to learn wisdom from the misfortunes
of others. With the fate of Witiza full
before his eyes, Don Roderick indulged in the
same pernicious errors, and was doomed, in like
manner, to prepare the way for his own perdition.