Nov 18 Mon
Consoled in her agony by a poem on the Cross.
Isabella the Catholic, Queen of Castile, who patronized and facilitated Columbus' discovery of America, died on November 26, 1504, at the age of 53, after a long illness that caused her, according to the priest, "great suffering and agony".
During her illness, she requested Friar Ambrosio Montesino, poet and confessor, to compose prayers in the form of poems reflecting the suffering of the Lord on the Cross, to serve as consolation for the Queen in her moments of agony. The suffering of the Queen and her intentions are reflected in her testament, a document that according to the priest is her best legacy. She wrote:
“I also ordain that as soon as the Pope concedes to us the Islands and Mainland of the Ocean already discovered and yet to be discovered [America and the nearby islands], to try to get, encourage, and attract the people who populate them to the Catholic Faith, and to send to the Islands and Mainland priests and other learned persons... to instruct the inhabitants of those lands in the Catholic Faith, and to teach them Christian customs.
As well, I beg the King, and I charge and order the Princess, that they do it thus, and that they carry it out, and not consent to nor allow the Indians, inhabitants of the Indias and Mainland, won and to be won, to receive any injury to their persons or possessions, rather to the contrary, that they should be well and fairly treated, and if they have received any injury that it should be remedied and provided for."
There we see the holiness of the queen. The poem composed by Montesino reads as follows:
Who brought thee, King,
the pain of this extreme sweat?
- Alas, man, that was thy sin!
With His holy love that led Him to die,
He fought the great dread that He suffered
from the death He expected.
The ground was consecrated
by so much blood He has sweated
by His cruel agony.
It is a sign that my guilt
is healing from its pestilence,
because God, through His mercy,
is driving it out with His Blood.
What a great good it is,
but, sadly, when will I, a stricken man,
be able to repay this benefit?
Thy compassionate sighs, O Lord,
and Thy solitude,
provoke to pity
the living and the dead;
for what do we do,
-all captives in prisons of sin-
who do not run to Thy side?
O Lord, who created me,
I wish I could become for Thee
as a cloth
to wipe away the bath of Blood
Thou hast sweated!
I ask You to forgive me
for whom You were so afflicted and exhausted.
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