Isabella, queen of Castile, was born at Madrigal, in that kingdom, on the 22d of April, 1451. Her father, John II., after an inglorious reign of forty-eight years, died in 1454, lamenting that he had not been born the son of a mechanic, instead of king of Castile. Isabella had but a slender prospect of obtaining the crown during the early part of her life. She had two brothers, Henry and Alfonso, the former of whom acceded to the throne at the death of John. Isabella retired, with her mother, to the little town of Arevalo, where she lived many years in obscurity. Her mother, who appears to have been a woman of a strong, religious turn of mind, bestowed great care on her education, and inculcated the strictest lessons of piety upon her daughter, which did not fail to exercise an important influence upon her future career. On the birth of a daughter to her brother, Isabella was removed from her retirement to the royal palace, by Henry, who, being disliked by his subjects, feared the formation of a party adverse to his interests. At the royal court, surrounded by all the pleasures and seductions most dazzling to youth, she did not forget the early lessons imbibed in her seclusion, and the blameless purity of her conduct shone with additional lustre amid the scenes of levity and licentiousness by which she was surrounded.

Before this event, she had been solicited in marriage by various suitors, among whom was Ferdinand of Arragon, who afterward became her husband. His first application, however, was unsuccessful. She was next betrothed to his elder brother Carlos, while yet a mere child. That prince dying before the marriage could be completed, she was promised by her brother to Alfonso, king of Portugal. Isabella was but thirteen at this time, and the disparity of their ages was such that neither threats nor entreaties could induce her to consent to the union. The selfish and unprincipled Henry, who looked upon his sister only as an object of trade, next made an attempt to dispose of her for the purpose of gaining over a powerful family in Castile, which gave him great trouble by their opposition. He offered her in marriage to Don Pedro Giron, grand master of the order of Calatrava. This man was well known to be a most detestable character. He was a fierce and turbulent leader of a faction, and his private life was stained with almost every vice. Such a person, vastly inferior in birth, was selected as the husband of the young and virtuous Isabella. The pope granted a dispensation from the vow of celibacy, which the grand master, as the companion of a religions order, had been obliged to utter, and splendid preparations were immediately made for the nuptials.

Isabella was at this time in her sixteenth year. When she understood in what manner she was now to be sacrificed to the selfish policy of her brother, and that, in case she proved reluctant, compulsory measures were to be adopted, she was filled with the liveliest grief and indignation. She confined herself in her apartment, abstaining from all food and sleep for a day and a night, imploring Heaven, in the most piteous manner, to save her from this dishonor, even at the cost of her life. As she was bewailing her hard fate to her faithful friend, Beatriz de Bobadilla, that high-spirited lady exclaimed, “God will not permit it; neither will I;” and, drawing forth a dagger from her bosom, she solemnly vowed to plunge it into the heart of the master of Calatrava as soon as he appeared. The affair, happily, did not come to so tragical a catastrophe. Her dreaded suitor was suddenly carried off by sickness in the midst of his magnificent preparations.

Troubles now began to thicken around the weak and vicious Henry. His subjects, disgusted with his administration, rose in arms against him. Castile was afflicted with all the horrors of anarchy and civil war. Isabella retired for shelter to a monastery at Avila. The confederated nobles, who were in arms against the king, offered her the crown of Castile, which she had the prudence and magnanimity to refuse. This led to a negotiation with the king, and the civil war was closed by a treaty between the parties, in which it was stipulated that Isabella should be immediately recognized heir to the crown of Castile and Leon. Her brother Alfonso had recently died, and Joanna, the daughter of Henry, was believed by the people to be a supposititious offspring. Isabella’s prospects of a throne, having now assumed a certain character, drew the attention of neighboring princes, who contended with each other for the honor of her hand. She gave the preference to Ferdinand of Arragon, and they were married in 1469. On the death of Henry, in 1474, they were conjointly declared king and queen of Castile. A party, however, existed in favor of Joanna, and Alfonso IV., king of Portugal, entered Castile at the head of an army, publicly espoused her, and assumed the regal title. His defeat at the battle of Toro, in 1475, was fatal to his pretensions, and, by a peace concluded in 1479, the right of Isabella and her husband was fully acknowledged. In that year Ferdinand succeeded to the crown of Arragon; and from that time the kingdoms of Castile and Arragon were inseparably united, comprising the whole of Spain not possessed by the Moors.

Isabella, who was high spirited and jealous of her authority, governed Castile as the real sovereign, and her husband had the policy to concur, with apparent cordiality, in her measures. In 1481, hostilities were commenced against the Moors of Grenada; and, after a war of ten years, that kingdom was subdued by the arms of Ferdinand and Isabella. By this event the whole of Spain was restored to the Christian dominion; and, in honor of an achievement so auspicious, the two sovereigns received the distinguishing title of “the Catholic.” In this war Isabella engaged with all the ardor of religions zeal; and though Ferdinand joined in her plans with perfect harmony, yet he seems to have acted in a secondary capacity. Soon after this, the Jews were expelled from Spain an act of bigotry and injustice certainly countenanced by Isabella, but owing chiefly to the frantic religious zeal of the inquisitor-general, Torquemada, her confessor, who, while the king and queen were deliberating on the acceptance of an offer of thirty thousand ducats made by the Jews to avert the threatened edict of expulsion, suddenly burst into their presence, and, drawing forth a crucifix from beneath his mantle, held it up, exclaiming, “Judas Iscariot sold his Master for thirty pieces of silver. Your highnesses would sell him anew for thirty thousand. Here he is; take him, and barter him away.” So saying, he threw the crucifix on the table, and left the apartment. This bold stroke of priestly impudence was completely successful. The sovereigns were overawed, and the edict was signed.

A deed more glorious to the memory of Isabella was the generous patronage she bestowed upon Columbus, and which was the sole means that enabled that heroic adventurer to accomplish his great undertaking of the discovery of the western world. After he had failed in all his attempts in other quarters, he at length found a friend in the queen, who, rejecting the advice of her narrow-minded and timid counsellors, exclaimed, “I will assume the undertaking for my own crown of Castile, and am ready to pawn my jewels to defray the expenses of it, if the funds in the treasury shall be found inadequate.” Under her auspices Columbus achieved his great discovery; and Isabella may be called the mother of the western world. She continued a constant friend and protector of Columbus during her life; and her death proved an overwhelming disaster to him.

During the war against the Moors, Isabella shared in most of the campaigns, animating her husband and generals by her courage and undaunted perseverance; providing for the support of the armies by her forethought and economy; comforting them under their reverses by her sweet and gracious speeches, and pious confidence in Heaven; and, by her active humanity and her benevolent sympathy, extended to friend and foe, softening, as far as possible, the miseries of war. She was the first who appointed regular military surgeons to attend the movements of the army, and be at hand on the field of battle. These surgeons were paid out of her own revenues; and she also provided six spacious tents, furnished with beds and all things requisite for the sick and wounded, which were called the “Queen’s Hospital.” Thus to the compassionate heart of a woman, directed by energy and judgment, the civilized world was first indebted for an expedient which has since saved so many lives, and accomplished so much towards alleviating the frightful evils of war.

Isabella’s confessor, the Dominican Torquemada, had, from the beginning, earnestly labored to infuse into her young mind, to which his situation gave him such ready access, the same spirit of fanaticism that glowed in his own. Fortunately, this was in a great degree counteracted by her sound understanding and natural kindness of heart. But he is said to have extorted a promise that, “should she ever come to the throne, she would devote herself to the extirpation of heresy, for the glory of God and the extension of the Catholic faith.” The fulfilment of this promise being afterwards insisted on, led to the establishment of the Inquisition in her dominions, the darkest spot that exists upon her character. It was not till she had endured the repeated importunities of the clergy, particularly of those revered persons in whom she most confided, that she consented to this measure.

It was under the auspices of Isabella that Cardinal Ximenes introduced his famous reforms into the religious orders of Spain, and began the work of correcting the horrible abuses which had crept into the government of the convents. This attempt was strongly resisted, and occasioned a general outcry of the clergy. The general of the Franciscans waited on the queen, and remonstrated in high terms against this interference with the privileges of his order; at the same time reflecting severely on Cardinal Ximenes, and his influence over her mind. Isabella listened to this turbulent friar with some impatience; but, little accustomed to be dictated to in this style, she at length rose from her seat, and desired him to remember who he was, and to whom he spoke. “Madam,” replied the monk, undauntedly, “I remember that I am but ashes and dust, and that I speak to Queen Isabella, who is but dust and ashes, like myself.” She immediately turned from him with a look of cool disdain. The next day he was ordered to quit the kingdom; and Ximenes, supported by the royal power, pursued his system of reformation.

Isabella was a patron of literature. The first printing press set up in Spain was established at Burgos under her auspices; and all printed books, and foreign and classical works, were imported free of duty. Through her zeal and patronage, the University of Salamanca rose to that eminence which it assumed among the learned institutions of that period, and rivalled those of Pisa and Padua. She prepared the way for that golden age of Spanish literature which immediately succeeded her. Her own love of study is evinced by the fact, that, after she was firmly seated on the throne, she applied herself to the task of remedying the defects of her early education, by a diligent application to books, amid all the cares of state. She mastered the Latin language in less than a year’s study.

Notwithstanding that Isabella adored her husband, she would never suffer him to interfere with her authority as an independent sovereign, and she was as jealous of her prerogative as Elizabeth of England; except, indeed, where priestly intimidation was applied. Her extreme deference for the ecclesiastics around her was a misfortune for her people, but, consistently with the best points in her character, it could not have been otherwise. She was humane, just, and reasonable in all matters not influenced by the religious bigotry of the age. She declared the American Indians free, and ordered the instant return of several cargoes of them which had been sent to Spain for slaves.

After a successful and glorious reign of thirty years, Isabella the Catholic died, on the 26th of November, 1504, in the fifty-fourth year of her age. Her last years were clouded with the deepest melancholy. The insanity and misfortunes of her daughter Joanna, and the domestic afflictions of her daughter Catherine of Arragon, lacerated her heart with sorrow. She pined away in her lonely grandeur, till the deep and long-protracted melancholy invaded her constitution, and settled into a rapid and fatal decline.

The chief traits of Isabella’s character may be gathered from the preceding narrative, to which we subjoin the parallel drawn between her and Elizabeth of England, by Mr. Prescott, whose “History” so ably and satisfactorily unfolds the events of her reign.

“It is in these more amiable qualities of her sex, that Isabella’s superiority becomes most apparent over her illustrious namesake, Elizabeth of England, whose history presents some features parallel to her own. Both were disciplined in early life by the teachings of that stern nurse of wisdom, adversity. Both were made to experience the deepest humiliation at the hands of their nearest relative, who should have cherished and protected them. Both succeeded in establishing themselves on the throne, after the most precarious vicissitudes. Each conducted her kingdom, through a long and triumphant reign, to a height of glory which it never before reached. Both lived to see the vanity of all earthly grandeur, and to fall the victims of an inconsolable melancholy; and both left behind an illustrious name, unrivalled in the annals of their country.

“But with these few circumstances of their history, the resemblance ceases. Their characters afford scarcely a point of contact. Elizabeth, inheriting a large share of the bold and bluff King Harry’s temperament, was haughty, arrogant, coarse, and irascible, while with these fiercer qualities she mingled deep dissimulation and strange irresolution. Isabella, on the other hand, tempered the dignity of royal station with the most bland and courteous manners. Once resolved, she was constant in her purposes; and her conduct in public and private life was characterized by candor and integrity. Both may be said to have shown that magnanimity which is implied by the accomplishment of great objects in the face of great obstacles. But Elizabeth was desperately selfish; she was incapable of forgiving, not merely a real injury, but the slightest affront to her vanity; and she was merciless in exacting retribution. Isabella, on the other hand, lived only for others; was ready at all times to sacrifice self to considerations of public duty; and, far from personal resentment, showed the greatest condescension and kindness to those who had most sensibly injured her; while her benevolent heart sought every means to mitigate the authorized severities of the law, even towards the guilty.

“Both possessed rare fortitude. Isabella, indeed, was placed in situations which demanded more frequent and higher displays of it than her rival; but no one will doubt a full measure of this quality in the daughter of Henry VIII. Elizabeth was better educated, and every way more highly accomplished, than Isabella. But the latter knew enough to maintain her station with dignity, and she encouraged learning by a munificent patronage. The masculine powers and passions of Elizabeth seemed to divorce her, in a great measure, from the peculiar attributes of her sex; at least from those which constitute its peculiar charm; for she had abundance of foibles; a coquetry and a love of admiration which age could not chill; a levity most careless, if not criminal; and a fondness for dress and tawdry magnificence of ornament which was ridiculous or disgusting, according to the different periods of life in which it was indulged. Isabella, on the other hand, distinguished through life for decorum of manners, and purity beyond the breath of calumny, was content with the legitimate affection which she could inspire within the range of her domestic circle. Far from a frivolous affectation of ornament or dress, she was most simple in her own attire, and seemed to set no value on her jewels, but as they could serve the necessities of the state; when they could be no longer useful in this way, she gave them away to her friends.

“Both were uncommonly sagacious in the selection of their ministers, though Elizabeth was drawn into some errors, in this particular, by her levity, as was Isabella by her religious feeling. It was this, combined with her excessive humility, which led to the only grave errors in the administration of the latter. Her rival fell into no such errors; and she was a stranger to the amiable qualities which led to them. Her conduct was certainly not controlled by religious principle; and, though the bulwark of the Protestant faith, it might be difficult to say whether she were at heart most a Protestant or a Catholic. She viewed religion in its connection with the state, in other words, with herself; and she took measures for enforcing conformity to her own views, not a whit less despotic, and scarcely less sanguinary, than those countenanced for conscience’ sake by her more bigoted rival.

“This feature of bigotry, which has thrown a shade over Isabella’s otherwise beautiful character, might lead to a disparagement of her intellectual power, compared with that of the English queen. To estimate this aright, we must contemplate the results of their respective reigns. Elizabeth found all the materials of prosperity at hand, and availed herself of them most ably to build up a solid fabric of national grandeur. Isabella created these materials. She saw the faculties of her people locked up in a death-like lethargy, and she breathed into them the breath of life, for those great and heroic enterprises which terminated in such glorious consequences to the monarchy. It is when viewed from the depressed position of her early days, that the achievements of her reign seem scarcely leas than miraculous. The masculine genius of the English queen stands out relieved beyond its natural dimensions by its separation from the softer qualities of her sex; while her rival, like some vast and symmetrical edifice, loses, in appearance, somewhat of its actual grandeur, from the perfect harmony of its proportions.

“The circumstances of their deaths, which were somewhat similar, displayed the great dissimilarity of their characters. Both pined amidst their royal state, a prey to incurable despondency, rather than any marked bodily distemper. In Elizabeth it sprang from wounded vanity; a sullen conviction that she had outlived the admiration on which she had so long fed, and even the solace of friendship, and the attachment of her subjects. Nor did she seek consolation where alone it was to be found, in that sad hour. Isabella, on the other hand, sank under a too acute sensibility to the sufferings of others. But, amidst the gloom which gathered around her, she looked, with the eye of faith, to the brighter prospects which unfolded of the future. And, when she resigned her last breath, it was with the tears and universal lamentations of her people. It is in this undying, unabated attachment of the nation, indeed, that we see the most unequivocal testimony to the virtues of Isabella. Her own subjects extol her as ’the most brilliant exemplar of every virtue,’ and mourn over the day of her death as ‘the last of the prosperity and happiness of the country;’ while those who had nearer access to her person are unbounded in their admiration of those amiable qualities whose full power is revealed only in the unrestrained intimacies of domestic life.”