The Manuscript Found in Saragossa (47 page)

I thanked my father for the trust he had shown me in telling me about the most remarkable happenings of his life, and the following Friday I again handed him the letter of the Duke of Sidonia. He did not read it to me any more than he did those which he subsequently
received. But he spoke to me about his friend and I realized that no conversation interested him as much as this.

Some time later I received the visit of a lady who was an officer's widow. Her father had been born a vassal of the duke, and she was claiming a fief which was in the jurisdiction of the Duchy of Sidonia. Bestowing patronage had never happened to me before. I was flattered by this chance to do so. I wrote a memorandum in which I proved the widow's rights clearly and precisely. I took it to my father, who was pleased with it and sent it to the duke, as I had foreseen. The duke recognized the widow's claim and wrote me a letter full of compliments on my precocious intellectual powers.

Later I had another occasion to write to him and I received a second letter, in which he told me how charmed he was by my mind. And indeed I did all I could to cultivate my wit and intellect. I was helped in this by la Girona's intelligence, which is very great. I had just completed my fifteenth year when I wrote this second letter.

I was sixteen when one day I heard from my father's study a commotion in the street and what sounded like the cheers of an assembled crowd. I ran to the window. I saw many excited people triumphantly accompanying a gilded coach on which I recognized the arms of Sidonia. A crowd of
hidalgos
1
and pages rushed to the coach doors and I saw a very handsome man step down. He was dressed in the Castilian fashion, which our court had just given up, that is to say, he wore a ruff, a short coat and a plume. What set off this beautiful costume was the diamond-studded fleece which he wore on his breast.

‘It's him!' cried my father. ‘I knew he would come!'

I withdrew to my apartment and did not see the duke until the following day. But thereafter I saw him every day, for he did not leave my father's house.

The duke had been recalled on very important business. It was necessary to quell violent unrest, which had been caused by the imposition of new taxes in Aragon. This kingdom had its own
constitutions, among which is that of the
Ricos Hombres
, who were once the equivalent of what Castile called grandees. The Dukes of Sidonia were the oldest of the
Ricos Hombres
, which alone would have earned the duke great respect, but he was also loved for his personal qualities. The duke went to Saragossa and was able to reconcile the interests of the court with the wishes of the Aragonese. He was allowed to choose a reward, and he asked for permission to breathe the air of his native land for a short while.

The duke, who was by nature very straightforward, did not hide the fact that he took pleasure in conversing with me. We were nearly always together while the other friends of my father resolved matters of state. Sidonia admitted to me that he was very jealous by nature and even sometimes violent. Usually he spoke to me about himself or about myself. When this sort of conversation becomes habitual between a man and a woman their relationship soon becomes intimate, so I was not surprised when my father called me into his study to tell me that the duke had asked for my hand in marriage.

I replied that I would not ask him for time for reflection, because I had foreseen that the duke might show a lively interest in the daughter of his friend, and I had thought in advance about his character and the difference in age between us. ‘But Spanish grandees intermarry,' I added. ‘How will they look on our union? They might go so far as to refuse the familiar form of address to the duke, which is the first sign of their disapproval.'

‘That is an objection I myself made to the duke,' said my father. ‘He replied that all he asked for was your consent. The rest was his affair.'

Sidonia was not far away. He put in a timid appearance, which contrasted with his natural pride. I was touched by this and I did not keep him waiting too long for my consent. I made two people happy thereby, for my father was more pleased than I can tell you. La Girona was wild with joy.

The next day the duke invited all the grandees then in Madrid to dinner. When they were all present he asked them to sit down and spoke to them as follows:

‘Alba, I shall address myself to you since I look upon you as the
first among us, not because your house is more famous than mine but out of respect for the hero whose name you bear.
2

‘A presumption among us which does us honour requires us to choose our wives from the daughters of grandees, and without doubt I would despise anyone among us who entered into a
mésalliance
out of motives of wealth or lust.

‘The case I wish to place before you is very different. You know that Asturians say that they are as noble as the king and even a bit more so. However exaggerated this expression may be, their titles mostly antedate the Moors and they have the right to look upon themselves as the highest noblemen in Europe.

‘Well, the purest blood of Asturias flows in the veins of Leonor de Val Florida. In her it is combined with the rarest virtues. I maintain that such an alliance cannot but bring honour to the house of a Spanish grandee. If anyone is of a different opinion let him pick up this glove, which I now throw down in the midst of this assembly.'

‘I shall pick it up,' said the Duke of Alba, addressing Sidonia by the familiar form of address, ‘but it is only to give it back to you and to compliment you on so noble a union.'

He then kissed him, as did all the other grandees. When he told me of this scene my father said somewhat sadly to me:

‘That's the Sidonia I knew of old, with his notions of chivalry. Be careful not to offend him, Leonor!'

I confess to you that I had in my character a tendency towards pride, but this haughty love of grandeur left me as soon as it was satisfied. I became the Duchess of Sidonia and my heart was full of the sweetest feelings. In private life the duke was the most amiable of men because he was the most affectionate. His kindness was unfailing, his benevolence steadfast, his love constant. His angelic soul was reflected in his features. Only on occasions when some severe emotion changed them did they take on a terrifying aspect which made me tremble. Then, without wishing to, I saw in him the murderer of van Berg. But few things were able to upset Sidonia, and everything about me was able to make him happy. He
loved to see me talking and doing things. He guessed the least of my thoughts. I did not think that his love for me could possibly be greater, but the birth of a daughter increased his affection and crowned our happiness.

The day I rose from my confinement, la Girona said to me, ‘My dear Leonor, you are a married woman and a happy mother. You have no further need for me. Duty calls me to America.'

I wanted her to stay.

‘No,' she said. ‘My presence there is necessary.'

La Girona went away and took with her all the happiness I had till then enjoyed. I have described to you this short period of heavenly felicity, which could not last, because apparently so much good fortune is not meant for this world. I haven't the strength today to tell you about my misfortunes. Farewell, young friend. Tomorrow you will see me again.

The story of the young duchess interested me deeply. I wanted to know how it continued, and to learn how so much happiness could change into such awful adversity. While I pondered on this, I thought also of what la Girona had said about my having to stay for two years in the vault. That wasn't what I had in mind at all and I set about preparing some means of escape.

The duchess brought me my provisions. Her eyes were red, and she looked as though she had wept a great deal. She told me, however, that she felt strong enough to tell me the story of her misfortunes. This is how she carried on:

I have told you that la Girona held the post of duenna mayor. She was replaced by a certain Doña Menzia, a thirty-year-old woman who was still quite pretty and whose mind was not altogether uncultivated, which from time to time earned her a place in our society. On those occasions she would behave as though she was in love with my husband. I only laughed at this, and he paid no attention to it. Otherwise la Menzia sought to please me and especially to get to know me well. Often she would bring the conversation round to frivolous topics or she told me the gossip of the town. More than once I was obliged to tell her to be silent.

I had breast-fed my daughter and was fortunate enough to wean her before the events which I still have to relate to you. My first misfortune was the death of my father. He suffered an attack of an acute and violent illness and died in my arms, giving me his blessing and little foreseeing any of what was going to happen to us.

There were uprisings in Biscay. The duke was dispatched there. I accompanied him as far as Burgos. We had estates in all the Spanish provinces, and houses in nearly all Spanish cities. But in Burgos the Dukes of Sidonia had only a country house about a league outside the city, the very house where you now are. The duke left me there with all his retinue and went away to his destination. One day, on returning home, I heard a commotion in the courtyard. I was told that a thief had been discovered; he had been knocked out by being hit on the head with a stone, but he was a young man more handsome than had ever been seen before.

Some valets carried him to where I was standing. I recognized Hermosito.

‘Heavens!' I cried. ‘This is no thief, but a young man from Asturias who was brought up in my grandfather's house.'

I then turned to the major-domo and told him to take him in and look after him carefully. I even think I said that he was la Girona's son, but I don't have a clear memory of having said so.

The next day Doña Menzia told me that the young man was feverish and that in his delirium he spoke a great deal about me in very passionate terms.

I replied to Doña Menzia that if she continued to speak to me in such a way I would have her dismissed.

‘We'll see about that!' she replied. I ordered her then not to appear again in my presence.

The next day she sent word to me asking to be forgiven. She came and threw herself at my feet. I forgave her.

A week later, as I was alone, I saw la Menzia come in supporting Hermosito, who seemed extremely weak.

‘You commanded me to come,' he said in a faint voice.

I gave la Menzia a surprised glance, but I did not want to upset la Girona's son, so I had a chair set down for him a few paces from me.

‘My dear Hermosito,' I said. ‘Your mother has never mentioned your name to me. I would like to know what has happened to you since we were separated.'

Hermosito found difficulty in speaking but he made a great effort and spoke as follows:

   HERMOSITO'S STORY   

When I saw our ship set sail I lost all hope of seeing the shores of my native land again and deplored the severity that my mother had displayed in banishing me, while being unable to understand the reasons for it. I had been told that I was your servant and I served you as zealously as I was able. I had never disobeyed you. ‘Why then,' I asked myself, ‘drive me away as though I had committed the gravest of faults?' The more I thought about it, the less I was able to understand it.

On the fifth day of our voyage we found ourselves in the middle of Don Fernando Arudez's squadron. We were told to steer to the stern of the admiral's vessel, where there was a gilded balcony decked out with flags of many colours. There I saw Don Fernando with the resplendent chains of several orders around his neck. Officers stood around him respectfully. He had a loudhailer in his hand, and asked us several questions about our encounters at sea before ordering us on our way. Once we had passed, the captain said to me, ‘There's a marqués. But he began life like that ship's boy over there who is sweeping the cabin.'

As Hermosito reached this point in his story he repeatedly cast embarrassed glances at la Menzia. I thought him to be indicating that he was afraid of talking about himself in her company. So I asked her to leave. In doing this I thought only of my friendship for la Girona. The idea that I would be suspected of anything did not even enter my mind. When la Menzia had gone out Hermosito continued as follows:

Other books

Promises by Belva Plain
Teleport This by Christopher M. Daniels
The Novels of the Jaran by Kate Elliott
The Getaway Man by Vachss, Andrew
The Devil Tree by Jerzy Kosinski
Double Coverage by Meghan Quinn