Poem of the Cid

THE LITERARY WORK

An epic poem set in Christian and Moorish Spain in the eleventh century; written in Spanish (as Cantar de mio Cid) in the late twelfth or early thirteenth century; published in English in 1808.

SYNOPSIS

Exiled from his homeland, a Spanish knight wins wealth, fame, and a royal pardon while fighting the Moors.

Events in History at the Time the Poem Takes Place

The Poem in Focus

Events in History at the Time the Poem Was Written

For More Information

Little is known about the author of the Poem of the Cid. Although the closing lines of the original manuscript claim that Per Abbat (Pedro Abad) wrote the poem, scholarly opinion is divided on whether he was its author, as “individualists” contend, or merely its copyist, as “traditionalists” maintain. Evidence suggests that whoever composed the Poem of the Cid was learned, familiar with legal documents and procedures, and probably conversant with French epic poetry. Some have suggested that the author was a monk, while another noted scholar has identified a Castilian lawyer as the most likely candidate for authorship. There has likewise been controversy about the origins and dating of the Poem of the Cid. The traditionalists place the poem’s composition as early as 1140—just over 40 years after the death of the Cid—and argue that the transcribed poem was the culmination of several oral versions of the tale, transmitted by traveling minstrels and storytellers. While their view negates the idea of a single author, the most recent consensus is that it was composed by a single individual and, on the strength of this author’s likely sources, places the composition in the late twelfth or early thirteenth century. The date of 1207 C.E., found in the manuscript, cannot be ruled out entirely. In any case, most scholars and historians seem to agree that the Poem of the Cid is the earliest extant epic poem in Spanish. Through the centuries, the poem’s stirring depiction of the exploits of Christian heroes and warriors in Muslim Spain has possessed a timeless appeal. Recent scholarship on the poem focuses on the disparity between the heroic Cid of legend and the more ambiguous Cid of history.

Events in History at the Time the Poem Takes Place

The Cid of history

The events in the Poem of the Cid are loosely based on the life and career of Rodrigo (Ruy) Díaz de Vivar, known as El Cid, a name derived from the Arabic title Al-Sayyid (“lord”), though it is unclear just when Rodrigo Díaz acquired that name. Born around 1043 in Vivar, Rodrigo Diaz was the son of a minor nobleman of Castile; on his mother’s side, however, he was connected with the great landed aristocracy of Spain. Rodrigo Diaz was brought up at the court of Fernando I of Castile, in the household of the king’s eldest son, who would later become Sancho II of Castile (reigned 1065-72).

In 1060, young Rodrigo showed military prowess when he participated in a campaign against Aragon for control over the Muslim state of Saragossa. When Sancho acceded to the throne in 1065, he named the Cid, then 22 years old, as his standard-bearer or commander-in-chief of the royal troops.

The Cid’s military talents were indispensable to King Sancho throughout his reign. In 1067 the Cid accompanied Sancho on another campaign against Saragossa, playing a pivotal role in the negotiations that made Muqtadir, the Saragossan king, a tributary of the Castilian crown. Next, Sancho set his sights on the territories of Galicia and León, which his father had bequeathed to Sancho’s brothers, García and Alfonso, respectively. By 1071, García had been defeated, while Alfonso was deposed and exiled to Muslim Toledo. In 1072, however, the childless Sancho was killed at the siege of Zamora; Alfonso returned from exile to claim the thrones of Castile and Leon as Alfonso VI. The Cid, who had led many of Sancho’s campaigns against Alfonso, found himself in an awkward position. Although he swore loyalty to Alfonso, he lost his position as standard-bearer. It went instead to Count García Ordonez—the new king’s favorite—and the two became bitter rivals.

King Alfonso attempted to win the allegiance of his brother Sancho’s most powerful supporter: in 1074, he arranged a marriage between the Cid and his own niece, Dõna Jimena, daughter of the Count de Oviedo. The couple had two daughters, Cristina and Maria—who married into noble families of Navarre and Barcelona—and one son, Diego Rodríguez, who was killed in 1097, fighting the Almoravids. Despite the apparent success of the marriage, the Cid’s position at Alfonso’s court remained precarious: he had lost much of his old influence and was surrounded by rivals. In 1079, while on a mission to the Moorish king of Seville, the Cid clashed with García Ordonez, who was participating in the king of Granada’s invasion of Seville. The Cid’s forces defeated the Granadine army at Cabra, and during the battle, the Cid captured Garcia Ordonez, to Alfonso’s great displeasure. In 1081, after the Cid led an unauthorized raid on the Moorish kingdom of Toledo, which was under royal protection, the king exiled the Cid and confiscated his estates.

For nearly a decade, the exiled Cid fought as a mercenary in the service of the Moorish king of Saragossa. His experiences brought him both further renown as a general undefeated in battle and rich rewards from his appreciative Moorish masters. In 1087, after suffering his own defeat by the invading Almoravids at the battle of Sagrajas, Alfonso pardoned the Cid and recalled him from exile. The reconciliation was short-lived, however, and banishment was reimposed in 1089, after the Cid’s enemies accused him of retaining part of a Moorish tribute for himself. The Cid returned to Saragossa and embarked on an independent campaign in the Levante (eastern region of Spain), targeting the rich Moorish kingdom of Valencia. His shrewd exploitation of the political situation—eliminating the influence of the counts of Barcelona and gradually tightening his own control over the region—and his military expertise paid off. After a siege that lasted from December 1093 to June 1094, the Cid took possession of Valencia; nominally, he held Valencia for Alfonso VI, but in actuality, he ruled as its lord until his death in 1099. In 1096, the Cid converted the great mosque of Valencia into a cathedral and appointed a French bishop to be in charge of the new jurisdiction. After the Cid’s death, his widow, Jimena, retained control over Valencia until 1102, when she was driven out by Almoravid armies.

Although the Poem of the Cid mentions many of Rodrigo Díaz’s triumphs, such as his conquest of Valencia, it also downplays or omits more ambivalent details, such as his earlier allegiance to King Sancho and his service under the Moorish king of Saragossa. Similarly, the Cid himself is presented as a wholly heroic character: a peerless warrior who remains undefeated on the battlefield; a faithful vassal to an unworthy overlord; a devout Christian who ascribes all his victories to God; and, finally, a devoted husband and father. The faults and ambiguities of the historical Cid vanish, so that the perfect hero of legend may be created. The accuracy of this idealized figure is questionable; for example, it is unclear whether the Cid was truly a devout Christian, especially during his years living among Muslims in Saragossa.

The reign of Alfonso VI

The Poem of the Cid presents not only an idealized portrait of the Cid but an unsympathetic portrait of Alfonso VI (reigned 1072-1109), who is depicted as harsh, punitive, prejudiced against the Cid, and envious of the Cid’s popularity and influence. While the relationship between the king and the Cid seems to have been uneasy at best, history shows that Alfonso VI was neither an ineffective nor an incapable ruler.

Family strife and armed conflict marked Alfonso’s road to the Castilian throne. Alfonso, the second son in the royal family, was actually favored by his father, Ferdinand I, from whom he inherited the kingdom of León along with the tributes paid by the Muslim kingdom of Toledo. Alfonso’s older brother, Sancho, inherited the kingdom of Castile and the tribute of Saragossa, while Garcóa, the youngest prince, inherited the kingdom of Galicia. Sancho, who envied his brothers their holdings, sought to capture them by force. In 1071, Sancho and Alfonso both despoiled Garcia of Galicia; in 1072, Sancho defeated Alfonso at the battle of Golpejerra and forced him into exile in Toledo. That same year, the insatiable Sancho laid siege to his sister Urraca’s lands in Zamora; during the siege, partisans of Alfonso and Urraca—who favored Alfonso and helped foment a rebellion against Sancho in Leon—assassinated the Castilian king.

Sancho’s death—without issue—left Alfonso the logical heir to both Leon and Castile. Returning from exile, Alfonso quickly assumed both thrones and occupied Galicia as well (Garcia remained in prison until his death). Legend claims that the Cid, Sancho’s standard-bearer and commander-in-chief, along with other Castilian nobles, refused to take an oath of loyalty to the new king unless Alfonso swore by the Bible that he had not been involved in Sancho’s death. While the exact veracity of this episode is unknown, it might account for any lingering tension between Alfonso VI and his brother’s erstwhile and powerful supporter.

Alfonso enjoyed notable military success in the early years of his reign, leading raids as far southward as Córdoba and Seville and seizing the Rioja and Basque provinces. By 1077, he was proclaiming himself imperator totius Hispaniae (“emperor of all Spain”). In 1085 Alfonso achieved perhaps his greatest triumph when, after a long siege and with the aid of foreign crusaders, he captured the Moorish kingdom of Toledo. Christian Spain thus regained one of the most important historical, strategic, and cultural centers of the Iberian peninsula, which had been in the possession of the Muslims since the eighth century. Meanwhile, Alfonso exacted heavy tributes from the Moorish kingdoms under his control in return for his protecting them from other enemies. The influx of Muslim gold financed Alfonso’s military campaigns and endowed shrines, churches, and monasteries.

The later years of Alfonso’s reign brought crushing defeats in battle by the invading Almoravid (Berber) tribes from North Africa. In 1087, after one such defeat at Zallaqa, Alfonso recalled the Cid, whom he had exiled in 1081 after the knight led an unauthorized raid on Toledo. During the 1090s Alfonso entrusted the recalled Cid with the defense of eastern Spain, a maneuver that proved mainly successful. Other battle fronts did not fair as well. The king’s problems with the Almoravid continued. Between 1086 and 1109 Alfonso was mostly defeated by the Almoravids; in 1108, he lost his only son, Sancho, at the Battle of Uclés. Alfonso’s daughter Urraca succeeded him on his death in 1109.

Moorish-Christian relations

The eighth century brought dramatic political, religious, and cultural changes to Spain, which had been largely under Visigothic control since 480 C.E. In 710, a contested election for a king ultimately led to the collapse of the Visigoths’ empire. After the death of King Witiza, the Visigoth nobles chose not Witiza’s son Achila but their own candidate, Rodrigo, as the next king, provoking Achila into rebellion. Achila had company. Apparently King Rodrigo’s enemies invited Tariq ibn Ziyad, a Muslim chieftain from North Africa to aid them in Spain. Their invitation led to repercussions they probably never envisioned. In 711, Tariq landed with a force of 7,000 men at Algeciras Bay near a great rock the invaders called Jabal al Tariq (Mountain of Tariq) in honor of their leader (the name was later corrupted to Gibraltar). On the banks of the Guadalete River, near Jerez de la Frontera, the combined foes of Rodrigo’s foes and the Muslim invaders defeated those of Rodrigo, who apparently drowned while fleeing the battlefield; his body was never recovered.

After the battle, Tariq chose not to return to North Africa. Instead, the chieftain called for reinforcements, made further alliances among Rodrigo’s enemies, and advanced with his people further into the Iberian Peninsula. By 718, the Muslim invaders—called Moors because they had launched their invasion from Mauretania—had driven what remained of Spain’s former rulers into the northern mountains, had established and Arab emirate over most of the country, and had incorporated most of southern Spain into the Islamic world. The Moors’ advance might have continued northward into France and the rest of Europe, but they were beaten in 732 by Frankish forces led by Charles Martel at the Battle of Poitiers. The defeat forced the Moors back into Spain, where they remained.

Meanwhile, in the northern outpost of Asturias, the unconquered Christians mounted counterattacks against the invaders. They eventually reclaimed most of the territory of Leon and established a tenuous hold over Galicia and Navarre. During the tenth century, the rulers of Leon extended their control eastward along the northern bank of the Duero River; the region gained by this determined expansion was given the name Castile, because of the many castles built to protect the people who held and worked the land. For the next 200 years—up to the time of the Poem of the Cid —the Duero River marked the frontier between Christian Spain and “al-Andalus,” as Muslim Spain was sometimes called.

Significantly, the Moors never established political unity over their domains in Spain, which included the kingdoms of Córdoba, Seville, Granada, and Valencia. Factionalism and revolts thwarted attempts—even by the powerful caliphate of Córdoba in Muslim Spain, established by Emir Abd-al-Rahman III in 929—to impose an undivided hegemony over al-Andalus. Financial strains incurred by expensive military campaigns undertaken to subdue their various enemies contributed to the collapse of the Cór-doban caliphate in 1031. Thereafter, al-Andalus was never a single unified power; rather, Muslim Spain splintered into about 30 taifas, or factional states, each with its own ruler. Consequently, the Christian realms were able to recover still more territory during the eleventh century, although the rulers of the North spent as much time fighting each other as they did fighting the Muslims.

The relationship between Moors and Christians was often uneasy but not always hostile. Fierce military campaigns waged by each to acquire territory held by the other alternated with lengthy periods of peace, even amity. Moorish kings often sought aid from Christians to defend their taifas or to fight their Muslim rivals. The Cid, for example, spent several years while exiled from Christian Spain in the service of the king of Saragossa. Furthermore, there was little religious persecution at this point. The Moors generally tolerated Christianity, seeing parallels to their own faith in the Christians’ belief in a single deity and reliance on a holy book. They tolerated Judaism too in al-Andalus; many Christians who inhabited Moorish Spain even converted to Islam. Others, known as Mozarabs (“arabized”), retained their Christian faith but adapted themselves to the Islamic lifestyle in other ways—developing a distinctive art and poetry, for example, creating a bridge between the two culures. The Poem of the Cid explores both sides of the Moorish-Christian relationship: on one hand, the Cid and his men continually battle with the Moors over territory; on the other, the wealthy Moor Abengalbón who twice extends his hospitality to the Cid’s family is presented as the Cid’s friend, superior in courage and honor to the scheming Infantes (young princes) of Carrión who plot to rob and murder him.

CHRISTIANS AND JEWS IN MEDIEVAL SPAIN

The Cid deceives some Jewish moneylenders in the Poem of the Cid without remorse, intimating that they deserve such deception, reflecting a common antipathy of the era. Around the time the poem was written, in the mid-thirteenth century, there were 4-5 million Castilians, including perhaps 300,000 Muslims and Jews, though estimates vary widely (O’Callaghan, p. 464). The two minorities were treated quite differently, a reaction in part to their different roles in Christian society. The Cid shows far greater tolerance toward Muslims in the poem, as was actually the case in society at the time. Christians and Jews coexisted in medieval Spain, divided by suspicion and a deep-seated anti-Jewish hostility that harked back to ancient Spain, Under the rule of the Romans in the fourth century, the law discriminated against Spain’s Jews, followed two centuries later, under the Visigoths, by similar laws formulated at the Council of Toledo (589), which forbade Jews to marry Christians, own Christian slaves, or hold official power over Christians. Over the years, other councils reiterated and extended these laws. In 1055, the Council of Coyanza forbade Christians to reside or take meals with Jews, and m 1081 Pope Gregory VII warned King Alfonso VI not to give Jews public authority over Christians. In fact, Spain’s rulers ignored such warnings, employing Jews as physicians, scholars, army-supply coordinators, financial advisors, and tax collectors in the separate kingdoms. The Christian proscription against usury led to a dependence on Jews for moneylending too. To some extent, these tendencies isolated the Jews occupationally, and they were physically isolated by the areas in which they resided. Jews generally settled In a town, in a self-governing subcommunity, though some might live in other neighborhoods too. In Castile, above and beyond meeting their general tax obligations, they were obligated to pay 30 dineros a month “in memory of the death of our Lord Jesus Christ when the Jews put Him on the cross” a reference to the myth that Jews, not, as has since been proven, Romans, killed Christ (O’Callaghan, p. 464). Such myths, combined with other factors, prompted twelfth-century society to perpetuate the age-old antipathy, which would grow fiercer in subsequent centuries. Now, in the medieval era, the degree of anti-Jewish hostility varied from town to town and era to era in Christian and in Muslim Spain, Some towns invoked anti-Jewish laws; in other towns Jews enjoyed much the same rights as non-Jews. But in both regions Spanish Jews suffered a resentment rooted in the past and aggravated by their roles in the present that could erupt into deadly persecution, as when the Muslim town of Córdoba sacked and burned its Jewish quarter in 1135.

The Poem in Focus

Plot summary

The first cantor, or song, of the poem begins abruptly—scholars contend that an earlier part of the manuscript is missing. The Cid, exiled by King Alfonso VI of Castile, leaves his domain of Vivar, a village north of the Spanish city Burgos. Reaching Burgos with a company of loyal followers, the Cid finds every door shut against him. He learns from one of the citizens, a nine-year-old girl, that all who offer him aid will, by the king’s command, forfeit their possessions, their eyes, their bodies, and their souls. The Cid rides out of the city with his men and sets up a camp by the river. Martín Antolinez, another citizen of Burgos, supplies the Cid’s company with bread and wine from his own stores and asks to join them, a request that the Cid grants. Needing money to pay his men, the Cid successfully dupes two Jewish usurers, Raquel and Vidas, into lending him 600 marks in exchange for two coffers supposedly holding his riches, but really filled with sand.

The Cid and his men next ride to the monastery of San Pedro de Cardeña, where the Cid’s wife, Doña Jimena, and his two young daughters, Doña Elvira and Doña Sol, have been ordered to remain; the family shares a bittersweet reunion and a tearful parting. Afterward, the Cid is pleased to see that 115 more knights have ridden out to join his company. By now, six of the nine days allowed the Cid for his leaving Christian Spain have elapsed, so the entire company depart from San Pedro after morning mass is said for them. During the last stage of his journey, the Cid dreams of the angel Gabriel who assures him that all will go well with him.

Once in exile, the Cid becomes a soldier of fortune, leading his men in battle against the Moors. He captures the Moorish town of Castejon, while his men conduct raids along the Henares Valley; the vast spoils gained in both campaigns are divided among the Cid and his men. Moving onward from Castejon, the Cid continues his conquest of Moorish territories, each time amassing more wealth, power, and fame. After taking the town of Alcócer and defeating a Moorish force sent from Valencia, the Cid sends his lieutenant Minava Álvar Fanez bearing gifts, including 30 fine horses, to King Alfonso. The king, though pleased by the gifts and the reports of the Cid’s prowess, does not repeal the Cid’s decree of banishment. Meanwhile, the Cid leaves Alcócer for the Jalon valley, where he carries out successful raids, which soon provoke an attack on his forces by Count Ramón of Barcelona. The Cid defeats Count Ramon in battle and takes him prisoner; the humbled count is released only after he gives up all his property to the Cid.

During the course of his campaigns, the Cid approaches the Moorish city of Valencia; he eventually engages in battle and defeats the inhabitants, then lays siege to the city, which surrenders to him after 10 months. The king of Seville leads an army to take back Valencia, but the Cid’s forces defeat those of Seville. The Cid establishes his authority over Valencia and over his men, some of whom are growing homesick for their own lands. Threatening all potential deserters with death, the Cid maintains control over his vassals.

On his master’s orders, the Cid’s minion, Minaya Alvar Fanez, again travels to Castile bearing gifts. This time he presents King Alfonso with a gift of 100 horses and requests that the Cid’s wife and daughters be permitted to join him in Valencia. Pleased by the gift and the news of the Cid’s victory, King Alfonso grants this request. The Cid happily reunites with his family; soon after, he defeats the forces led by the Emir of Morocco. This victory gains him even greater fame and riches, including the emir’s luxurious tent, which the Cid sends to King Alfonso, along with 200 horses. So touched is the king by this latest present that he finally pardons the Cid.

At a meeting on the banks of the Tagus river, King Alfonso and the Cid are reconciled. To do his vassal great honor, the king proposes to marry the Cid’s daughters to Diego and Fernando González, the Infantes of Carrión, who had expressed interest in wedding the girls. Although the Cid has reservations about his daughters marrying so young, he agrees that the alliances would be very prestigious and consents to the king’s proposal. The marriages take place in Valencia amid much rejoicing. Two years of happiness and prosperity follow.

One day, while the Cid is sleeping, one of his lions escapes from the menagerie. The Cid’s vassals hurry to protect their lord from the lion; meanwhile, the infantes run and hide. Waking, the Cid easily recaptures the lion; he less easily tries to put an end to the mockery his vassals direct towards his cowardly sons-in-law. The infantes take offence and privately vow to avenge their dishonor.

Soon after, an army arrives from Morocco and a battle ensues. The Cid is once again victorious; he praises all who participated in the battle, including his sons-in-law. But, in contrast to their unknowing master, the Cid’s vassals are aware that the infantes behaved as cravenly as ever, and the mockery of the princes resumes. Resentful and humiliated, the infantes hatch a scheme for revenge, telling the Cid that they wish to take their wives to visit their new lands in Carrion. The unsuspecting Cid bestows more wealth on the infantes, including two treasured swords, Tizón and Colada, and sends along an escort of his own men to accompany them. Almost as an afterthought, the Cid sends along his nephew, Felez Munoz, charging him to take care of the Cid’s daughters.

On the journey, the infantes further disgrace themselves by plotting to rob and murder their host, Abengalbon, a wealthy Moor who is the Cid’s friend. Their scheme is foiled, however, by a display of arms on the part of Abengalbon and his men. Later, the princes set up their camp in a wild wood. The next morning, having sent on their escorts ahead of them, the infantes strip their wives of their fine clothes, whip them viciously, and leave them for dead. Riding away, the infantes justify their behavior by saying that the Cid’s daughters were not their equals in status and that they had to avenge their dishonor. Meanwhile, Félez Muñoz, concerned for his cousins, doubles back into the forest and finds the badly beaten girls. Reviving them, he places them on his horse, and they ride to the town of San Esteban, where the girls are nursed back to health before returning to their father in Valencia.

News of the princes’ wicked deeds spreads quickly. King Alfonso and the Cid are shocked and appalled, the former vowing to try the infantes in a court held in Toledo, the latter swearing to avenge his daughters’ ill-treatment and marry them to far greater husbands. At the trial, the Cid demands the return of his two swords, then the return of his gold from his former sons-in-law. The infantes give back the swords but, having squandered the Cid’s gold, they are forced to make up the amount in horses and property. Finally, the Cid demands satisfaction for the infantes’ cruel, dishonorable treatment of his daughters. Three of the Cid’s vassals then issue formal challenges to the infantes and their brother, Asur González. In the midst of these proceedings, ambassadors from Aragon and Navarre arrive in Toledo to ask for the Cid’s daughters as brides for their future kings. King Alfonso and the Cid consent to the arrangement, delighted that Doña Elvira and Doña Sol will be queens and thus socially superior to their former husbands.

Meanwhile, the combat between the Cid’s knights and the Carrións takes place the next day. Pedro Bermudez and Martín Antolínez, the new owners of the swords Tizón and Colada, easily defeat the infantes, just as Muno Gustioz defeats Asur. The Cid and his men return to Valencia, with all their honor restored, while the Carrións are forced to live with everlasting disgrace. Soon after, the Cid’s daughters marry the princes of Aragon and Navarre, later becoming queens and mingling the Cid’s line with that of the kings of Spain. The Cid’s illustrious career ends with his death in Valencia on Whit Sunday.

Honor among nobles

From the very start of the Poem of the Cid, the hero is concerned with the loss of his honor and prestige. The Cid feels keenly not only the pain of parting from his homeland and family but the humiliation inherent in his sentence of exile: he is stripped of his lands in Castile, denied the king’s favor, and shunned by the city of Burgos. Therefore, his spectacular military campaigns in Muslim Spain are not only undertaken as a means to support himself and his men financially but as a means to recover his honor.

An important concept in Spain since the fifth century, the term “honor” carried subtle, far-reaching implications. Material wealth and high social position were often associated with honor, but by no means did they represent the full sum of honor. Scholars and translators Peter Such and John Hodgkinson explain,

The notion of honour, as it is represented in the Poema, does not relate to the intrinsic worth of an individual, but rather to his status among his fellows and the respect which he is granted by others. Honour furnished a theme which was to be of great importance in the Spanish literature of later centuries, but it is clear from the law codes of medieval Castile and León that conflicts of honour were already a very significant feature of the society of Christian Spain.

(Such and Hodgkinson, p. 14)

The Poem of the Cid accurately reflects the times of its setting and composition by depicting the many ways in which honor could be gained or lost. Through his victories over the Moors and his vast acquisition of booty, the Cid garners fame and honor, reports of which are carried back to King Alfonso, along with rich gifts that further enhance the Cid’s prestige. By the time the Cid reconciles with Alfonso, the knight is as rich in admiration as he is in material possessions. The advantageous marriages of his daughters, first to the Infantes of Carrión, then to future kings of Navarre and Aragon, bring the Cid still more honor.

Conversely, the outcome of the infantes’ episode in the Poem of the Cid reveals how easily honor can be lost or compromised among nobles and soldiers. The infantes dishonor themselves through cowardice: first, by hiding when a lion escapes from the Cid’s menagerie; secondly, by failing to distinguish themselves in battle against the Moroccan army. Resenting the resultant mockery by the Cid’s men and fearing that news of their cowardice will spread, the infantes plot to avenge themselves by casting an even greater shame upon the Cid. The infantes beat and abandon their wives, thus expressing scorn of the, in their view, “lowly” match that King Alfonso had arranged.

Both Alfonso and the Cid perceive the insult to them through the injuries done to Elvira and Sol, and act quickly to avenge their own dishonor. According to medieval law, a dishonored man was socially dead until slights against him were avenged, either through legal redress in the courts or through the killing of those who had dishonored him. Significantly, the Cid opts for the former, appearing in his finest clothes at the court Alfonso has convened in Toledo, making the restoration of his family’s honor—and wealth—as public as possible. The Cid’s own men also avenge their commander’s dishonor by challenging and defeating the Carrións on the field of battle. The affronts to the Cid, Elvira, and Sol are thus amply avenged, and the even more prestigious marriages of the girls to princes of Navarre and Aragon erase any lingering stain on the Cid’s honor. The defeated infantes are meanwhile condemned to perpetual disgrace and dishonor. It is a reflection of the way women were regarded during the time in which the Poem of the Cid was composed that, while Elvira and Sol suffered unprovoked mistreatment, they are perceived as less important in themselves than as appendages to their father. Their injuries are an insult to the honor of their male relative.

BEARDS AND BOASTS

In the poem, it is a point of great pride with the Cid that his long, flowing beard has never been plucked by anyone. Indeed, such an assault on a man’s beard, along with striking him in the face, was considered a mortal insult, one punishable by death! Before appearing in court, the Cid arrays himself in his finest clothes and ties up his beard with a ribbon, as a safeguard against even accidental pulling. Encountering his old rival Count García Ordóñez in the courtroom, the Cid taunts him with the memory of how, years before, “I took [the castle of] Cabra, and pulled you by the beard, / there was no young child who did not pluck his bit. / The piece which I plucked has not yet properly grown” (Poem of the Cid, II. 3288-3290).

Sources and literary context

The primary sources for the Poem of the Cid were, in all probability, historical accounts of the Cid’s life and career. A Latin poem, the Carmen Campidoctoris (c. 1093), mentions the Cid’s exploits, as does a shorter Latin chronicle, the Historia Roderici (c. 1110). Other fragments of the Cid’s story apparently exist in several chronicles, including Primera Crónica General. Some scholars have also seen resemblances between the Poem of the Cid and French epics, specifically the Chanson de Roland. The problematic dating of the Poem of the Cid, however, makes that claim difficult to verify conclusively. Whatever its exact sources are, the Poem of the Cid appears to take some dramatic liberties with historical accounts: the Cid’s career as a mercenary in the king of Saragossa’s service is omitted, as is his second banishment from King Alfonso’s domains in 1089. Moreover, the episode of the marriages of the Cid’s daughters—Elvira and Sol, in the poem—to the Infantes of Carrión seems to be entirely fictitious. The real-life Cid’s daughters—Cristina and María—in fact married well, to a prince of Navarre and a count of Barcelona.

Although the Poem of the Cid is held to be the oldest extant Spanish epic, it apparently had relatively little effect on later literature. Rather, Mo-cedades de Roderigo, a romance—written in the fourteenth or fifteenth century—relating the Cid’s youthful deeds, eclipsed the epic the Poem of the Cid in popularity. This later version inspired fifteenth- and sixteenth-century ballads about the Cid. Nor is there any conclusive evidence that the Poem of the Cid was representative of a larger tradition of Spanish epic poetry. Indeed, literary scholar Colin Smith argues that the Poem of the Cid may actually have been the very first epic composed in Castilian, and “in consequence an innovatory and experimental work” (Smith, p. 1). Such and Hodgkinson likewise maintain that

we must in general be wary of attributing to the Spanish epic an antiquity for which there is little firm evidence. It has been argued that the Poema de Mio Cid is the oldest of the Spanish epic poems and that it established a form for those which followed. Many scholars will prefer to emphasize the debt owed by the Poema itself to an established tradition; but two points should be clear: firstly, that the Poema cannot be taken as a representative work typical of the Spanish epic in general or of the literary creature of its age; secondly, that it is a work of exceptional quality, and this may well have ensured its survival, almost alone among the epic poems of medieval Spain.

(Such and Hodgkinson, p. 6)

Events in History at the Time the Poem Was Written

The Reconquest during the twelfth century

The period during which the Poem of the Cid was most likely composed (1140s-1207) encompassed many political and social changes. Christian Spain’s attempted reconquest of the peninsula progressed, though somewhat haphazardly, experiencing setbacks as well as advances. One notable victory was the Aragonese capture of the Moorish kingdom of Saragossa in 1118. Meanwhile, the power of the Almoravids began to wane in the mid-1100s but in 1146, the Almo-hads, another Islamic fundamentalist sect from North Africa, poured into Spain and quickly took over the government of al-Andalus. The Almo-hads were more intolerant and aggressive than the Almoravides; their arrival prompted thousands of Jews and Mozarabs to flee to comparative safety in the North.

Divisions among the kingdoms of Christian Spain prevented them from taking action against the new invaders for several years. In 1157, an unstable situation ensued when Alfonso VII died, dividing his realm between his two sons; Sancho III inherited Castile, while Fernando II inherited León. Sancho’s three-year-old son succeeded him as Alfonso VIII in 1158, after his father’s early death, leaving Castile open to possible threats from Fernando. The Leonese king backed his nephew’s accession but annexed more territory for himself as compensation, repopulating his kingdom south of the Duero and pushing his frontiers southward beyond Badajoz.

Meanwhile, Alfonso VIII spent his years as an adult monarch fighting the Almohads and waging territorial disputes with his cousin Alfonso IX of León, who succeeded his father Fernando in 1188. The Almohads defeated the Castilians at the Battle of Alarcos in 1195, but in 1212, Alfonso’s troops, allied with those of Pedro II of Aragon and Afonso II of Portugal, crushed the Almohads at Las Navas de Tolosa and opened al-Andalus to conquest. This victory was still five years away from the 1207 completion date of the Poem of the Cid’s manuscript. Nonetheless, the poem’s accounts of the Cid’s triumphs over the invaders might have provided encouragement and inspiration to a generation of Castilians waging an often disheartening battle against the forces of Islam.

Reception

The manuscript for the Poem of the Cid was rediscovered in Vivar, Spain, in 1596, and apparently circulated among scholars for many years. However, it was not until 1779 that Tomás Antonio Sánchez published it for “modern” readers.

The Poem of the Cid began to receive serious scholarly attention in the 1800s. It especially impressed the Spanish “generation of 1898”—an intellectual movement that opposed the restoration of the monarchy, favored a political return to the origins of Spain, and regarded Castile as the soul of the nation. Ramón Menéndez Pidal, a noted medievalist scholar and a member of the Generation of 1898, published a three-volume edition

TOWNS AND COURTS

As the frontiers of Christian Spain expanded southwards, Spanish settlers, including Jews and Muslims, were increasingly encouraged by their regional governments to occupy the new territory, establishing homes and building towns. Settlers were granted special rights and privileges—called fueros —in hopes that they would become permanent colonists of the region. New towns and villages built on the Castilian border, for example, became relatively self-governing under councils that were elected by householders. Although kings or overlords had ultimate jurisdiction over the region, these communities enjoyed an unusual degree of autonomy. The number of fueros increased dramatically as the Reconquest gathered momentum, from 45 granted in the eleventh century to nearly 600 granted in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Hundreds of towns came into being, bringing a new element into political life, which until then had been dominated by land-rich nobles. Frustrated by the power and contentiousness of the nobility, several Spanish kings cultivated alliances with the townspeople. In 1188, Alfonso IX of León summoned an assembly to Leon that included clergy, nobles, and townspeople. People called it the Cortes (courts), the term used even today for the Spanish parliament. In 1250, Castile followed Leon’s example and established their own Cortes, Providing a much-needed balance of power, the Cortes frequently spoke out for urban interests against the powerful landed nobility. Also, democratically elected town councils for both Castile and León came into being around 1220. Although the Poem of the Cid takes place nearly a century before the establishment of the Cortes, the third section of the poem may be said to anticipate this development, as well as the dawn of a more justice-minded age, when the Cid, a relatively minor noble, seeks redress for his daughters’ beatings and abandonments by their royal husbands, the Infantes of Carrióon, not on the battlefield but in the courtroom.

of the Poem of the Cid in 1908-11 and a pivotal study of the work, La España del Cid, in 1934. In his writings, Menéndez Pidal maintained that the Poem of the Cid was the “national epic of Spain” and should be studied as an accurate historical document (Menéndez Pidal in Lazzari, p. 61). Menendez Pidal also supported the “traditionalist” argument that the epic in its final form represented the culmination of several oral versions circulated by folk poets and traveling performers.

The Poem of the Cid attracted favorable attention outside Spain as well. In 1814, the British poet and essayist Robert Southey admired the work and faulted the Spaniards for having “not yet discovered the high value of their metrical history of the Cid as a poem” (Southey in Ticknor, p. 25). American Hispanist scholar George Ticknor likewise praised the Poem of the Cid in his History of Spanish Literature (1849; 1879):

The whole of [Poem of the Cid], therefore, deserves to be read, and to be read in the original; for it is there only that we can obtain the fresh impressions it is fitted to give us of the rude but heroic period it represents: of the simplicity of governments, and the loyalty and true-heartedness of the people; of the wide force of a primitive religious enthusiasm; of the picturesque state of manners and daily life in an age of trouble and confusion; and of the bold outlines of the national genius, which are often struck out where we should least think to find them …. It seems certain that, during the thousand years which elapsed between the time of the decay of Greek and Roman culture down to the appearance of the “Divina Commedia,” no poetry was produced so original in its tone, or so full of natural feeling, graphic power, and energy.

(Ticknor, pp. 24-25)

—Pamela S. Loy

For More Information

Crow, John A. Spain: The Root and the Flower. New York: Harper and Row, 1963.

Fletcher, Richard. Moorish Spain. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992.

——. The Quest for El Cid. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1990.

Freund, Scarlett, and Teofilo Ruiz. “Jews, Conversos, and the Inquisition in Spain, 1391-1492.” In Jewish-Christian Encounters over the Centuries. Ed. Marvin Perry and Frederick M. Schweitzer. New York: Peter Lang, 1994.

Grunfeld, Frederic V. The Kings of Spain. Chicago: Stonehenge Press, 1982.

Lazzari, Marie, ed. Epics for Students. Detroit: Gale Research, 1997.

McKendrick, Melveena. The Horizon Concise History of Spain. New York: American Heritage, 1972.

O’Callaghan, Joseph F. A History of Medieval Spain. Ithaca: Cornell University Pres, 1975.

Pierson, Peter. The History of Spain. Westport: Greenwood Press, 1999.

Poem of the Cid. Trans. Peter Such and John Hodgkinson. Warminster: Aris & Phillips, 1987.

Read, Jan. The Moors in Spain & Portugal. Totowa: Bowman and Littlefield, 1975.

Smith, Colin. The Making of the Poema de mio Cid. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983.

Ticknor, George. History of Spanish Literature. Vol. 1. Boston: Houghton, Osgood, 1879.