th from the free towns, and
Fernando was informed that he would not be allowed to enter the town of
Medina del Campo, where the Leonese Cortes was to be held, unless he
restored his mother to favor and brought her with him to the assembly.
Fernando knew enough to fear the veiled threat which this communication
contained, and the queen-regent appeared with him at the opening of the
session. The scene which followed is pathetic in the extreme, and shows
the magnanimity and unselfishness of Maria in a most striking manner.
She spoke to the members of the Cortes, recalled their former struggles
against the encroachments of the nobles, and urged them to prudent
action, that there might be no further occasion for domestic strife.
Loyalty to country and to king were the keynotes of her speech, and
before she had finished, those who had assembled in anger, ready to
renounce their allegiance on account of Fernando's shameful treatment of
his mother, were now willing to forgive and pardon for that same
mother's sake. This point once established and a loyal following
secured, Maria proceeded to give in detail that account of her
stewardship which had been called for, and she had no trouble in showing
that her administration had been above reproach. Then it was that
Fernando made public acknowledgment of the fact that he had been led
astray by evil-minded advisers; and the Cortes adjourned, faithful to
the king and more than ever devoted to his mother. At Fernando's death
in 1312, Maria de Molina was again called to the regency, so great was
her reputation for wisdom and fair play; and when she ended her public
career, in 1324, all hastened to do honor to her memory, and she was
called Maria the Great, a title which has never been bestowed upon any
other queen-regent in Spain. Her reputation for goodness was unchanged
by the lapse of time, her goodness stands approved to-day, and two
dramatists, Tirso de Molina and Roca de Togores, have depicted her as a
heroine in their plays.

Under the reign of Alfonso XI., Castile was rent by two factions, one in
support of the king's wife, Maria of Portugal, and the other friendly to
his beautiful mistress, Leonora de Guzman. When a youth of seventeen,
Alfonso had fallen captive to the charms of the fair Leonora; but his
grandmother, Maria de Molina, actuated by political motives, had forced
him to marry the Infanta Maria of Portugal. What might have been
expected came to pass: Maria was the q