s, alliances were made between kingdoms thus naturally
opposed to each other. A recollection of this fact is essential to a
clear understanding of Spanish history at this period.

At the commencement of the eleventh century the chief Christian states
of Spain became, through divers marriages, united under one king,
Sancho, who died in 1034 dividing his territories among his three sons:
of whom Garcia took Navarre, Ferdinand, Castile, and Ramirez, Aragon.
Leon, the remaining Christian monarchy, was ruled by Bermudez III.,
whose sister Ferdinand of Castile had married. Just as this apparent
junction of interest occurred among the warriors of the Cross, the
greatest confusion prevailed among those of the Crescent. The mighty
house of the Ommiades--perhaps the most illustrious of the factions into
which the successors of the Prophet were divided--no longer commanded
the allegiance of the Arabs of Spain. Its last prince fled, and the
chief cities fell into the hands of independent lords, who constituted
themselves petty Emirs in their own dominions. Instead, however, of
taking full advantage of this state of anarchy to extend their united
power, the Christian kings weakened each other by unnatural and deadly
quarrels. Ferdinand, King of Castile, seems to have been the principal
aggressor. His great captain in his wars, both with Moslem and Christian
states, was Rodrigo Laynez, who was called also by the Spaniards Ruy
Diaz de Rivar, from the name of his birthplace, and by the Arabs _El
Sayd_ (Lord), which has been altered into Cid. He was probably born
about the year 1026, or rather later, at the Castle of Rivar, near
Burgos, in Old Castile, of a noble but not wealthy family. He joined the
army of Ferdinand, and rose by his talents, strength, and courage to the
highest place in that king's service. Among the romantic stories told of
his early career is one concerning his marriage, which forms the subject
of a popular ballad. The father of Rodrigo, having been injured by a
Count Gomez, the young knight defied the latter to a duel and slew him.
The count's daughter, Ximena, in a storm of grief and rage, flew to the
king, and cried for vengeance on Rodrigo, who met her face to face, and
awaited the result of her entreaties.

No one, however, was hardy enough to offer himself as the damsel's
champion against so doughty a warrior, and Rodrigo calmly retired. His
manly bearing and fame won him a place in the very heart which he had