But we need not discuss these minutiæ further. Let us record the fact that Ruy Díaz de Bivar is known as the Cid Campeador, and pass on to his historical achievements. At the age of twenty-five he was appointed _alférez_ (standard-bearer) to Sancho II. of Castile, a predatory monarch who drove his brother Alfonso from León and his brother García from Galicia, and annexed their kingdoms. Both campaigns gave the Cid opportunities of distinction, and he became the most conspicuous personage in Castile after the murder of Sancho II. by Bellido Dolfos at Zamora in 1072:— ¡Rey don Sancho, rey don Sancho, no digas que no te aviso que de dentro de Zamora un alevoso ha salido! llámase Vellido Dolfos, hijo de Dolfos Vellido, cuatro traiciones ha hecho, y con esta serán cinco. Si gran traidor fue el padre, mayor traidor es el hijo.— Gritos dan en el real: ¡A don Sancho han mal herido: muerto le ha Vellido Dolfos, gran traición ha cometido! The Castilians were in a difficult position: the assassination of Sancho II. left them without a candidate for the vacant thrones of Castile and León. The Cid was not eligible; for, though of good family, he was not of royal—nor even of illustrious—descent. The sole legitimate claimant was the dethroned Alfonso, and there was nothing for it but to offer him both crowns. It is alleged that the exasperated Castilians found a salve for their wounded pride by inflicting a signal humiliation on the Leonese prince whom they invited to rule over them. According to tradition, Alfonso was compelled to swear that he had no complicity in Sancho’s death, and this oath was publicly administered to him by the Cid and eleven other Castilian representatives in the church of Santa Gadea at Burgos. This story reaches us in ancient _romances_, and Hartzenbusch has given it a further lease of life by dramatising it in _La Jura en Santa Gadea_. There may be some basis for it, and any one may believe it who can. There is, however, no positive proof that any such incident took place, and the tale reads rather like a later invention, fabricated to account for the bad blood made subsequently between the king and his formidable subject. Picturesque stories concerning historical personages are always ‘suspect,’ and are generally untrue. As there was no pretender in the field, why should Alfonso submit to insulting conditions? Is it not simpler to suppose that he regarded the Cid with natural suspicion as the man mainly responsible for his expulsion from León, and that the Leonese nobles were careful to keep this resentful memory alive? Now, as in the time of Fernán González:— Castellanos y leoneses tienen malas intenciones.