Mistresses: María de Padilla, Practical Queen of Castile

María de Padilla and Pedro of Castile with María's coat of arms 

By J. K. Knauss 

María de Padilla met King Pedro of Castile during the summer of 1352, when she was eighteen years old, “intelligent, beautiful, and small in size,” according to contemporary chronicles. The king, who was also eighteen at the time, recognized in her a kindred spirit, and she quickly became the love of his life. Although Pedro’s monarch status obliged him to marry more politically advantageous women, María’s willingness to accept his love outside the bonds of matrimony earned her an important place in European history and the royal gene pool. Indeed, it’s difficult to take two steps in Sevilla and in some parts of Castilla y León today without coming across a monument dedicated to her, a room she lived in, or a monastery she founded.

A salon in the King Pedro area of the Royal Palace in Sevilla
Photo by J. K. Knauss 

King Pedro (r. 1350–1369) has not one but two sobriquets recorded in the history books: the Cruel, or the Just. This reflects the complex panorama of the time. He was loved or hated, but no one was indifferent to his policies in a war with Aragón, or his stance regarding what would become the Hundred Years War. These were the early days of sociopolitical turmoil following the Black Death, which had already devastated the Iberian Peninsula and would strike again during Pedro’s reign.

María came of noble lineage, and many of her family members were appointed to high offices at court. It was probably inevitable that she and the king would meet at some time, but it happened to occur during a trip the king made to Asturias to deal with Enrique, his half-brother who would eventually kill him and take the crown, beginning the Trastámara dynasty.

The Salon of María de Padilla as it was furnished in 1892.
Courtesy of pastpictures.org 

Many stories have circulated about the king marrying María in secret soon after he met her, and later glossing over the legally valid ceremony because of political pressures to marry Blanche of Bourbon, first cousin of the King of France. The marriage failed spectacularly, and a later one was also short-lived and lacking issue. María, on the other hand, gave Pedro four children: Beatriz, who became a nun at Tordesillas; Constanza, who married John of Gaunt because King Pedro’s loyalties really lay with the English; Isabel, who married Edmund of Langley; and a son who didn’t survive childhood.

Her unsanctioned relationship with Pedro caused the historians of her time to overlook her accomplishments. While it’s possible she stayed out of the political arena, it seems unlikely she never told the king what she thought of any of the volatile issues of his reign. She is on record as buying expensive properties and founding the convent of Santa Clara de Astudillo. All of the buildings associated with her feature elegant mudéjar and Gothic architecture.

The author pretends to be María de Padilla on a hot September day. 

María died at about 27 years of age in 1361, possibly as a result of plague. Her body was buried in the convent she had founded. But her remains were soon transferred to join other members of the royal family in the royal chapel in the cathedral of Sevilla, where they still rest today. This move could have been motivated by Pedro’s continued devotion, but it was also strategic in gaining recognition of María’s son, Alfonso, as Pedro’s heir. In any case, María de Padilla is remembered as Pedro’s queen, in the practical sense if not by law.

The "Baths of María de Padilla" below the Gothic area
of the Royal Palace in Sevilla are actually
the rain catchment system. Photo by J. K. Knauss 

Although mostly unappreciated in her time, María’s story has captivated novelists and artists ever since. A nineteenth-century opera offers two emotional interpretations of her historical status. In the first version, which was rejected by censors, María seizes the crown from Blanche of Bourbon’s head and then commits suicide. In the final version, Pedro proclaims María as his queen instead of Blanche, and María perishes from the overwhelming joy of attaining what later critics believe must have been her most fervent wish.

A driven fiction writer, J. K. Knauss has edited many fine historical novels and is a bilingual freelance editor. Her historical epic, Seven Noble Knights, will be released by Encircle Publications December 11, 2020. J. K. Knauss earned a PhD in medieval Spanish with a dissertation on the portrayal of Alfonso X’s laws in the Cantigas de Santa Maria, which has been published as the five-star-rated Law and Order in Medieval Spain. Look for her book based on the Cantigas, coming in 2021. On the contemporary side, her YA/NA paranormal Awash in Talent was published by Kindle Press. Find out more about her writing and bookish activities here. Follow her on Facebook and Twitter, too!

Author Interview & Book Giveaway: J. K. Knauss on SEVEN NOBLE KNIGHTS

This week, we're pleased to welcome author and Unusual Historicals contributor J. K. Knauss with her first historical novel, SEVEN NOBLE KNIGHTS, a saga of family, betrayal, and revenge in medieval Spain.

We're giving away two signed print copies and three ebooks of Seven Noble Knights free. Just enter the Rafflecopter giveaway at the bottom of this post or Thursday's wedding scene excerpt for a chance to win. 

Spain, 974. Gonzalo, a brave but hotheaded knight, unwittingly provokes tragedy at his uncle’s wedding to beautiful young noblewoman Lambra: the adored cousin of the bride dead, his teeth scattered across the riverbank. Coveting his family’s wealth and power, Lambra sends Gonzalo’s father into enemy territory to be beheaded, unleashing a revenge that devastates Castile for a generation.

A new hero, Mudarra, rises out of the ashes of Gonzalo’s once great family. Raised as a warrior in the opulence of Muslim Córdoba, Mudarra must make a grueling journey and change his religion, then chooses to take his jeweled sword to the throats of his family’s betrayers. But only when he strays from the path set for him does he find his true purpose in life.

Inspired by a lost medieval epic poem, Seven Noble Knights draws from history and legend to bring a brutal yet beautiful world to life in a gripping story of family, betrayal, and love.

**Q & A with J. K. Knauss**

How did you come to write about medieval Spain?

For the longest time I pursued my two passions, writing and Spain, separately, as if the twain could never meet. It wasn't until after I'd completed a PhD in medieval Spanish literature that I realized I could approach this material in a more exciting way. My dissertation advisor had remarked, "You like to tell stories, don't you?" It was finally time to do something about it!

Said to be the sarcophagi of the seven noble
 knights, San Millán de Suso.
Photo by J. K. Knauss 

Tell us about the legend on which Seven Noble Knights is based and how you became fascinated with it.

The first time I heard of the seven noble knights was during a faculty-led tour of Córdoba during a fantastic study abroad semester. "This is where they hung the heads," the professor said, pointing to an archway. That was too gruesome to interest me at the time. The next time I encountered the legend was during my PhD studies. The events may really have happened in the late tenth century, and the story ended up in thirteenth-century historical writing. In the early twentieth century, scholars noticed the historical prose rhymed and maintained a poetic meter in places! Yes, the story probably circulated orally as an epic poem or song, and yes, one character throws a bloody cucumber at another. Everything about this legend is fascinating. Many places, aside from that archway in Córdoba, lay claim to some aspect of the heroic yet familiar, dearly beloved characters.

The crest of Salas de los Infantes shows
nine of the legend's characters.
Photo by J. K. Knauss 

Are many of the characters drawn from history?

I had a lot of fun making up a few supporting characters based on my historical research and the needs of the drama. I don't think the hero of the novel, Mudarra, ever existed. The epic poets or the historians likely created him to satisfy their deep-seated need for revenge for the protagonists. That gave me the freedom to develop his character from an automatic revenge machine into a thoughtful, talented young man with doubts and desires of his own.

On the other hand, the Count of Castile, Caliph Hisham, and Almanzor, acting governor of Andalucía—heads of state—are all verified in the historical record. The González family of the region of Lara held a high status throughout the Middle Ages, and in chancery records we find mention of Gundisalvus (Gonzalo), one of my protagonists, and one Flammula, the likely namesake of my villain, Doña Lambra.

How did you find all this out? 

Picking up medieval law codes, chancery records, and history books might not appeal to many, but in me they have a rapt audience. I think the joy of finding an unexpected tidbit that illuminates an obscure literary passage (like the bloody cucumber) comes through in a vivid, exciting novel. 

Although Seven Noble Knights is realistic and historically accurate overall, there are ghosts in Part Two. Do you consider this magical realism? 

Seven Noble Knights is the first fiction I've written that strives for strict realism. There are, in fact, magical occurrences in the source materials. In the interest of historical realism, I explain a man regaining his sight with a detailed account of medieval eye surgery, and rather than claiming that a broken ring magically fuses together, I have the ring reforged. The medieval sources don't mention ghosts, but I based my ghosts on research about medieval Islamic and Christian beliefs about spiritual manifestations. The ghosts are real to the characters, so they're medieval realism, rather than magical realism. 

Seven Noble Knights will debut December 11 from Encircle Publications.

And remember to enter below to win one of two signed print copies or three ebooks of Seven Noble Knights free.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

J. K. Knauss earned her PhD in medieval Spanish with a dissertation on the portrayal of Alfonso X’s laws in the Cantigas de Santa Maria, which has been published as the five-star-rated Law and Order in Medieval Spain. Look for her book of stories based on the Cantigas, coming 2021. A driven fiction writer, J. K. Knauss has edited many fine historical novels and is a bilingual freelance editor. Her historical epic, Seven Noble Knights, will debut on December11, 2020, from Encircle Publications. Her contemporary paranormal Awash in Talent is now available from Kindle Press. Find out more about her writing and bookish activities here. Follow her on  Facebook and Twitter, too!

Excerpt Thursday: SEVEN NOBLE KNIGHTS by J. K. Knauss

This week, we're pleased to welcome author and Unusual Historicals contributor J. K. Knauss with her first historical novel, SEVEN NOBLE KNIGHTS, a saga of family, betrayal, and revenge in medieval Spain.

Join us again on Sunday for an author interview with more details about the story behind the story. We're giving away two signed print copies and three ebooks of Seven Noble Knights free. Just enter the Rafflecopter giveaway at the bottom of this or Sunday's post.

Spain, 974. Gonzalo, a brave but hotheaded knight, unwittingly provokes tragedy at his uncle’s wedding to beautiful young noblewoman Lambra: the adored cousin of the bride dead, his teeth scattered across the riverbank. Coveting his family’s wealth and power, Lambra sends Gonzalo’s father into enemy territory to be beheaded, unleashing a revenge that devastates Castile for a generation.

A new hero, Mudarra, rises out of the ashes of Gonzalo’s once great family. Raised as a warrior in the opulence of Muslim Córdoba, Mudarra must make a grueling journey and change his religion, then chooses to take his jeweled sword to the throats of his family’s betrayers. But only when he strays from the path set for him does he find his true purpose in life.

Inspired by a lost medieval epic poem, Seven Noble Knights draws from history and legend to bring a brutal yet beautiful world to life in a gripping story of family, betrayal, and love.

Early praise for Seven Noble Knights

“Let Seven Noble Knights welcome you to historical fiction! …it’s a rich saga populated with characters you will grow to love (and a few you will love to hate). The ancient empires of Spain are a beautiful backdrop to the struggles of humankind across all generations of all lands: romance, revenge, war, and adventure.”    

—Pushcart Prize nominee Reneé Bibby, The Writers Studio

Excerpt from Seven Noble Knights, Part One, Chapter III: The Wedding

Young Gonzalo’s uncle, Ruy Blásquez, is receiving Doña Lambra as a bride in exchange for his service to Castile. Gonzalo isn’t at all sure Lambra should be marrying his uncle.

Doña Sancha shooed her sons away from the cathedral door and drew dried herbs and flowers from pockets Gonzalo hadn’t known were inside her tunic and cloak. With a stick, she carved a large circle on the hard earth. Doña Sancha set the herbs and flowers inside the circle in a pattern with meanings she might have shared with a daughter, but were a mystery to Gonzalo.

“You’ll stand here,” she told her brother, Ruy Blásquez. “When your bride comes from that side, you’ll step inside the circle together.” She arranged her husband and sons on Ruy Blásquez’s side of the circle. Gonzalo ended up next to his uncle, so close he could hear each shallow breath he took.

Count García arrived with a full complement of knights and squires and four banners in white with red castles, as well as a fiddler and a flutist who made ready to play. So many people in the plaza must have been making the loudest ruckus since the city had been won from the Moors, but Gonzalo heard nothing.

From between the buildings at the far end of the plaza emerged forty women who walked with their hair covered to emphasize their married status. Their laughter and singing couldn’t distract Gonzalo from Doña Lambra, who tottered on their shoulders.

An heirloom beaded necklace competed with her yellow hair, shining in tight plaits on her shoulders with ornamental brass tips that looked as if they had come out of a treasure chest long ago. A mail girdle, inlaid with brass and pieces of jet at the edges, cinched her bright blue tunic from under her breastbone to down over her hips. Gonzalo shivered at the thought of the bitter touch of the matching mail sleeves, from the decorated wristlets up to her shoulders. A burgundy-colored cloak edged with three rows of golden braid was fastened over her shoulder with a gilded brooch in the shape of a lion rampant. A square cap, decorated all around with braid and gold carbuncles, looked like a royal crown. Gonzalo imagined he wasn’t at his uncle’s wedding, but that this bride had come from the farthest reaches of Christendom to marry the King of Navarra or León.

The married women set Lambra down in the middle of their ranks. She let the cloak fan out behind her unsteady stride. Her face was frozen into a grimace like the one the Virgin Mary wore as she cradled the Savior’s dead body inside the cathedral.

Gonzalo remembered Lambra’s grin at the banquet days before, when her mouth had dripped red with juices from the roasted bull’s testicles and the sauce-engorged bread trencher. Each time she received the goblet, she had made sure to turn it so that her lips didn’t touch the same spot as Ruy Blásquez’s. She didn’t take the same precaution against Álvar Sánchez, seated on her other side. Gonzalo could hardly taste his food through a choking desire to throw his eating knife across the table into the gloating knight’s hand so it could never touch Lambra so familiarly again.

There he was now, that upstart Álvar Sánchez, wearing just as juicy a grin, so close to Doña Lambra that the obnoxious curl on the toe of his boot intruded on the magic circle.

“What is that blasphemous behemoth doing there? Shouldn’t a member of the groom’s family stand next to the bride?” Gonzalo whispered to Gustio.

Gustio knocked his elbow into Gonzalo’s ribs. “Why? Were you hoping it would be you, little brother?” He chortled until their mother hissed at them to be silent.

Count García was addressing the crowd. “…with these deeds, Ruy Blásquez has earned as a bride my loveliest cousin, probably the most beautiful woman Castile has seen since my mother joined the Kingdom of Heaven. May they live many more years and have many loyal Castilian children.” He raised his arms, which the crowd took as a sign to cheer and shout.

Gonzalo noticed that his uncle had already moved into the circle and reached for Lambra’s hands. She was looking at Ruy Blásquez, but not with love or even curiosity. It was a look of judgment. Gonzalo tried to imagine how his uncle’s soft eyes, long nose, and weak chin fared on Lambra’s scale.

“I receive you as mine, so that you become my wife and I your husband,” Ruy Blásquez said. Gonzalo was relieved to glimpse him smiling widely, displaying his straight, white teeth to his judge in the form of a bride.

Ruy Blásquez smiled and waited, waited and smiled. Gonzalo witnessed a thousand expressions cross Lambra’s face like clouds in a stormy sky. At last, Lambra’s maid emerged from the crowd and leaned over the circle. “I receive you as mine…” she prompted so quietly that Gonzalo had to read her lips.

“I receive you as mine so that you become my… husband… and I your… wife,” said Doña Lambra, her eyes narrow. She pulled her hand away from Ruy Blásquez to wipe at her plump lips, as if the words had sullied them.

She craned her neck to look at Álvar Sánchez and Gonzalo knew she wished she had said the words to him. His heart beat faster. Then she shifted her gaze to Gonzalo. He felt as if he were smothered with the parsley, fennel, red carrot, and beet sauce from the banquet. Such was the hunger he saw in her eyes, a hunger he couldn’t help but feel, too, and which raged all the more, the more he tried to contain it. He remembered the way the bull’s testicles had flopped onto Doña Lambra’s trencher under their own weight and the way they deflated when she plunged her knife into the center of the sacs.

He stopped a startled cry in his throat.

“Long live the newlyweds!” The crowd shouted until they were the only words Gonzalo remembered ever hearing.

Seven Noble Knights will debut December 11 from Encircle Publications.

Find out some of the research involved in this wedding scene here.

See the book trailer with specially commissioned art by Ayal Pinkus.

And remember to enter below for a chance to win one of 2 signed softcover copies or one of three ebooks of Seven Noble Knights!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

J. K. Knauss earned her PhD in medieval Spanish with a dissertation on the portrayal of Alfonso X’s laws in the Cantigas de Santa Maria, which has been published as the five-star-rated Law and Order in Medieval Spain. Look for her book of stories based on the Cantigas, coming 2021. A driven fiction writer, J. K. Knauss has edited many fine historical novels and is a bilingual freelance editor. Her historical epic, Seven Noble Knights, will debut on December 11, 2020, from Encircle Publications. Her contemporary paranormal Awash in Talent is now available from Kindle Press. Find out more about her writing and bookish activities here. Follow her on  Facebook and Twitter, too!

The Arts: Mozarabic Manuscript Illumination

Musicians from a Beatus of Liébana ms. from the first half of the tenth
century. Wikimedia Commons 

By Jessica Knauss 

The complexity of the Iberian Peninsula in the Middle Ages has led to many different terms to refer to the distinct sectors of its multireligious, multicultural society. “Mozarabic” originally referred to the Christians who were allowed to continue practicing their faith under Muslim government, and later expanded to include the Iberian Christians who lived outside those territories as well. The time frame remains strict: it describes Moorish political dominance, from the seventh through the eleventh centuries.

Christ in Majesty from a Moralia in Job completed in
Valeranica, 945.  Wikimedia Commons 

This time frame sets the characters from my Seven Noble Knights, which takes place in 974 and 990, squarely within the Mozarabic culture. I’m fascinated with the distinctive art of this culture because it’s the aesthetic my characters would have been surrounded by.

From a Beatus of Liébana completed in Osma.
Wikimedia Commons 

In the most abundant type of art, manuscript illumination, bright colors, almond-shaped eyes, elongated hands, and disregard for realism are the characteristics that most stand out for me. Perhaps the colors, bright enough to burn modern eyes, are the result of dim lighting in buildings with small windows. The lack of realism may have come about in part because the most popular work of literature at the time was a commentary on the Apocalypse, with all its fantastic creatures and events, by a monk called Beatus of Liébana.

The Monastery "de Suso" at San Millán de la Cogolla is a
rare example of Mozarabic architecture. Jessica Knauss 

It’s assumed that the driving force of Mozarabic art is a blending of older, revered Visigothic styles with adaptations from Arabic sources. However, it’s hard to trace the continuance of Visigothic style due to a general lack of surviving Visigothic sources. Much important architecture constructed during the Visigothic and Mozarabic periods no longer exists because in later generations it was demolished to make way for new styles. Although the Arabic inspirations in Mozarabic art are more obvious, they’re not easy to interpret. Some see a criticism of these borrowings embedded in the borrowings themselves because of the frontier nature of this art and the antagonism between the religions. Others prefer to think Mozarabic artists admired Arabic styles for their elegance as much as they admired Visigothic styles for their heritage.

The Ark of the Covenant in the San Isidoro Bible, 960.
Wikimedia Commons 

In The Art of Medieval Spain, O. K. Werkmeister illustrates that the Mozarabic attitude toward Arabic art sources seems to reflect the current state of the prolonged conflict. These monks were often working on the front lines and witnessed skirmishes and battles firsthand. The San Isidoro Bible of 960 illustrates Philistines riding in a style probably copied from Islamic art. In this way, the Bible story of intense fighting against frightening enemies became an allegory for the conflict the monks and lay people saw all around them.

From the Beatus of Liébana of Girona, 975.
Wikimedia Commons 

Fifty years later, the attitude seems to have flipped. A decorative casket Caliph Hisham II gave to his Sword of the Realm as part of a reward for conquering León was looted in a raid and brought back to a Christian church to serve as a reliquary for the bones of two Mozarabic martyrs. This reappropriation is the ultimate form of adaptation from Arabic sources. The casket could only be accepted as Christian at this exact moment in history, when the Caliphate of Córdoba was in decay and the enemy forces didn’t seem as threatening as before.

The Whore of Babylon in the Girona Beatus.
Wikimedia Commons 

Unique among European manuscript illumination of this period, the frontier monks nearly always left detailed colophons signing their work and stating the reasons and patrons for which it was made. Such signatures likely imitated the way artists claimed their work in the Muslim-governed territories, where artists had considerable social standing. It seems reasonable that the Mozarabic monks had similar artistic and cultural aspirations. Historians thank them for leaving such accurately self-conscious records.

From "Facundus" ms. of Fernando I and Sancha of Castile,
mid-eleventh century. Wikimedia Commons 

The Mozarabic monastic tradition wouldn’t last long after the rise of the Romanesque artistic style. The only example of work attempting to bridge the styles or to absorb Mozarabic sensibilities into international Romanesque are the manuscripts patronized by Fernando I and Sancha of Castile in the mid-eleventh century. For me, these manuscripts happily combine the old surrealism with a new, more complex control of contours. But there were no monastic centers that could juggle the two styles for long.

Noah's ark, painted in Urgell. Wikimedia Commons 

Nevertheless, Mozarabic art was no flash in the pan. Something essential about it, perhaps its severity or its emotional impact, has remained in Spanish art. Many commentators draw a straight line between the San Isidoro Bible of 960 and Picasso’s Guernica.

Jessica Knauss earned her PhD in medieval Spanish with a dissertation on the portrayal of Alfonso X’s laws in the Cantigas de Santa Maria, which has been published as the five-star-rated Law and Order in Medieval Spain. Look for her book of stories based on the Cantigas, coming 2021. A driven fiction writer, Jessica Knauss has edited many fine historical novels and is a bilingual freelance editor. Her historical epic, Seven NobleKnights, will be published in December 2020 by Encircle Publications. Her contemporary paranormal Awash in Talent is now available from Kindle Press. Find out more about her writing and bookish activities here. Follow her on Facebook and Twitter, too! 

Beyond Our Stars: The Thirteenth-Century Astronomy Patronized by Alfonso X

Gemini. Spain, thirteenth century. 

By J. K. Knauss 

It’s something of a tradition to begin or end biographies of Alfonso X, el Sabio, with one historian’s sanctimonious judgment of him: “While he contemplated the heavens and gazed at the stars, he fell on the earth.” I quote it here not to perpetuate misconceptions, but because the wording shows the importance of the astronomy carried out in Alfonso X’s court. In spite of the other fields of inquiry enhanced under the wise king’s patronage, it was the astronomy that fascinated the most people first and longest.

Alfonso’s interest in the movement of the heavens was based, as most of his passions, in pragmatism. In Alfonso’s time, astrology hadn’t been separated from astronomy as a scientific discipline and was even farther from being as discredited as it is today, as many fourteenth- and fifteenth-century medical treatises (some of which refer to Alfonsine works) attest. The king likely believed knowledge of the stars could be an important tool in gaining the upper hand on Earth because of their obvious, albeit mysterious, influence on human character and behavior.

That said, many of the Alfonsine astronomy books are based on what is still considered solid science.

Alfonsine Tables. Spain, thirteenth century. 

The Alfonsine Tables are a set of measurements from about 1272 composed by Isaac ben Sid and Judah ben Moses ha-Cohen that track the positions of the sun, moon, and planets relative to Earth using Ptolemaic calculations. One of the astronomers who worked on the Alfonsine Tables took a copy with him in 1280 to Paris, where scholars adjusted the readings for the Paris meridian, enabling astronomers all over northern Europe to make use of the information for three hundred years. Copies survive today that were used by Copernicus and Galileo. The practical applications of the Tables are what made them popular. They well represented Alfonso X’s yearning for useful knowledge in the wider world.

The Alphonsus moon crater. Wikimedia Commons. 

Composed in the late 1270s, the most extensive book, the Book of Knowledge of Astronomy, also had the largest team behind it. The authors and translators named within the book include Jewish physicians, Muslim lawmen, and Italian and Castilian churchmen. The Book of the Eighth Sphere, which makes up the first part, describes the constellations with their celestial coordinates. The second part describes how to make and use nine different kinds of astronomical instruments, such as the astrolabe and the quadrant. Again, even in this most extensive and encyclopedic work, useful is paramount.

The Book of the Fixed Stars was translated from an Arabic book by Abd al-Rahman al Sufi composed around the year 964. In this book, the Alfonsine collaborators created a powerful combination of Ptolemy’s astronomy, Arabic traditions, and Castilian curiosity. The Andromeda Galaxy and the Large Magellanic Cloud, among other landmark bodies, were introduced to the European scientific community in this translation.

Ursa Major from a 1490 English copy of the Alfonsine Tables. 

The astronomy works are exemplars of the admirable Alfonsine traits of practicality and encyclopedism. The collaborators translated and compiled information from the best and most reliable sources. The majority draws from documents found in Arabic, with some information coming into Castilian from far-flung languages such as Chaldean. Without the bridge formed by these works, European astronomy might have had to start from scratch.

It’s much harder to see into the heavens if you’re not standing on the shoulders of giants.

Jessica Knauss earned her PhD in medieval Spanish with a dissertation on the portrayal of Alfonso X’s laws in the Cantigas de Santa Maria, which has been published as the five-star-rated Law and Order in Medieval Spain. Look for her book of stories based on the Cantigas, coming 2021. A driven fiction writer, Jessica Knauss has edited many fine historical novels and is a bilingual freelance editor. Her historical epic, Seven Noble Knights, is available from Encircle Publications in ebook, paperback, and hardcover. Her contemporary paranormal Awash in Talent is now available from Kindle Press. Find out more about her writing and bookish activities here. Follow her on Facebook and Twitter, too!

The Intellectuals: Alfonso X’s Contribution to World Science and Culture

By J. K. Knauss 

Juan Diego portrays
Alfonso X on the
series Toledo

He has a portrait hanging in the US House of Representatives in the Great Lawgivers series. A moon crater bears his name. His name is on the largest unified collection of annotated medieval music. Why do so many fields of inquiry praise the intellectual efforts of Alfonso X, el Sabio? What mark did he leave on the world to make us think he was so learned?

The short answer: his books.

In the General Estoria, we read: “The King makes a book, not because he writes it with his hands, but because he outlines the facts in it, and edits it and makes it right, and shows the way in which it is to be made… Just as we say that the King makes a palace, we don’t say it because he constructs it with his hands, but because he ordered it to be made…” The Book of the Sphere discusses at length the way King Alfonso worked as general editor. He came up with the idea for the book and what it should contain, and then went through it to take out extraneous parts and correct infelicities.

Alfonso X oversaw these projects to give himself access to the best knowledge in order to learn how rule his country more wisely, and a great additional benefit was that the books were created in Castilian and in Latin. They could then be consumed by Alfonso’s Castilian-reading subjects and Europeans farther afield. A wise populace is the beginning of a wise kingdom, and wise foreign friends make for smooth dealings and further the cause of that wise kingdom.

The collaborators made use of the finest sources available. They accurately cite Aristotle, the early Christian saints including Augustine, and eleventh-century philosophers such as Pedro Alfonso and Aelred of Rievaulx, to give the most basic examples. The scope of the intellectual activity has led to many scholarly volumes. Here’s a list of highlights.

The Alphonsus Crater on the Moon. Wikimedia Commons

Astronomy

• Alfonsine Tables

• Picatrix

• Book of Knowledge of Astronomy

• Book of the Forms and Images

• Book of the Fixed Stars

• Book of the Sphere, etc.

(More about Alfonso X’s astronomy on Unusual Historicals inJuly.)

Other Science

Lapidario—A book of erudition about types of stones.

Alfonso X in the US House of Representatives

Law

• The Fuero Real—A pragmatic town charter that was granted to new towns in order to begin regularizing the rule of law throughout Alfonso’s kingdoms.

• Espéculo—Elegant and comprehensive legal theory with practical applications as an afterthought.

• Siete Partidas—A great book of medieval thought that also served as the basis of Spanish law for centuries.

• Specialized books of law—The Book of Gambling Houses, the Book of Frontier Commanders, various ordinances, etc.

History/Wisdom

• Book of Calila and Digna—This charming book is the first work of Castilian prose narrative. Based on ancient Indian texts via Arabic sources, two jackals (or lynxes) tell each other fables to illustrate complex and sometimes conflicting points of wisdom.

• Setenario—Often classed with the legal works, this book obsessed with the number seven is an unfinished compendium of the most secret kinds of knowledge and how to apply them.

• History of Spain—Tells the story of the Iberian Peninsula from the end of the Roman Empire to the beginning of the thirteenth century.

• General History—An astoundingly wide-reaching world history from Biblical times.

Music/Religion

• The Cantigas de Santa Maria—The largest collection of written medieval music in the world. More than 400 praise and miracle songs in Galician Portuguese for the Blessed Virgin with fun melodies and gorgeous illustrations. I attempted to describe how wonderful this collection is in this post. I investigate one exciting cantiga in this post.

Alfonso's sculpture at the National Library in
Madrid emphasizes intellect with books and a scroll.

Pastimes because leisure is important for refreshing the intellect.

• Various cantigas de escarnio e mal dizer—Profane, sometimes grotesque, mostly humorous, and at least one moving account of the weariness of a king in failing health (“Non me posso pagar tanto”).

• Libro de ajedrez, dados e tablas—A comprehensive illustrated compendium of chess strategy for the troubled intellectual. Ways to play dice, backgammon, and other games of chance are not as highly regarded.

Much of this body of work had far-reaching impacts in medieval Europe and modern world. The astronomy inspired and informed Copernicus, and the law works influence decisions even today in the American Southwest.

In order to begin my studies of Alfonso X, I had to vastly broaden my fields of expertise in addition to the strictly literary training I’d had up to that time. Perhaps Alfonso X’s greatest wisdom lay in the voracity with which he pursued all intellectual subjects. It seems there was nothing the Wise King wouldn’t want to investigate and read about further.

Simon R. Doubledays’ biography (The Wise King, New York: Basic Books, 2015) seamlessly weaves the trials and tribulations of Alfonso X’s life and times into the writing of the body of work he left behind. He makes a good case that Alfonso X based his intellectuality on the model of polymath Muslim princes. Indeed, the translators and compilers frequently relied on rescued ancient documents in Arabic. Doubleday’s book is an excellent overview of a fascinating king—I learned a few things I didn’t know before. 

My tribute to Alfonso's contribution to world culture, Our Lady's Troubadour, lets you experience the Cantigas de Santa Maria in a fun new way! 

Jessica Knauss earned her PhD in Medieval Spanish with a dissertation on the portrayal of Alfonso X’s laws in the Cantigas de Santa Maria, which has been published as the five-star-rated Law and Order in Medieval Spain. A driven fiction writer, Jessica Knauss has edited many fine historical novels and is a bilingual freelance editor. Her historical novel, Seven Noble Knights, is available from Encircle Publications in ebook, paperback, and hardcover. Find out more her writing and bookish activities here or here. Follow her on Facebook and Twitter, too!