Ignatius Loyola (1491–1556) lived in interesting times. In the year of his birth, Granada, the last Muslim stronghold in Spain, fell to the armies of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella. This momentous event put an end to 800 years of Muslim occupation in Spain. Muslim religious books were burnt, except for those dealing with science or philosophy, which were considered to be especially useful. These latter books were transferred to the University of Alcalà de Henares, situated thirty-five kilometers north of Madrid. Most committed Muslims crossed peacefully to North Africa; others converted to Christianity, at least in name, in order to hold on to their property.
In August 1492, Christopher Columbus set sail for the New World, his voyage culminating in the discovery of the Americas, thus opening up a whole new world and vast wealth, especially for Spain.
Also in 1492, a Spaniard, Rodrigo Borgia, was elected pope, taking the name Alexander VI. He became famous in his own lifetime for his not-so-papal lifestyle—more recently, his reputation has been brought to our television screens in the series The Borgias.
In 1497, Vasco da Gama sailed around the Cape of Good Hope, a voyage that would later have particular significance for Jesuit missionaries on their way to the Indies and even further afield.
The early decades of the sixteenth century brought such historically important figures onto the European stage as Girolamo Savonarola, Desiderius Erasmus, Martin Luther, Michelangelo, John Calvin, Henry VIII, Thomas More, and El Greco. The list could continue. When describing the sixteenth century, perhaps we could borrow from the opening lines of Charles Dickens’s novel, A Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”
In 1491, Iñigo—or Eñico—López de Loyola was born in the ancestral home of the Loyola family, in the parish of Azpeitia in the Basque province of Guipúzcoa in northern Spain. Iñigo was a popular name in that region, after the saintly abbot of the town of Oña near Burgos. Iñigo was the youngest of thirteen children.1 His parents had been married twenty-four years when he was born.
Beltrán, Ignatius’s father, fought for King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain in a war against the King of Portugal. In acknowledgement of his services, Beltrán was awarded the patronage of the church of Azpeitia by royal charter, dated 10 June 1484. This gave Beltrán almost the same powers as those of a local bishop: he could present nominees for the office of parish priest, appoint two chaplains, occupy the seat of honour in the church, and select a place there for his own tomb, where he might rest for eternity.
Two of Beltrán’s children, Juan and Maria, were illegitimate. Local records of the time reveal that Beltrán signed his last will and testament on 23 October 1507, and he is thought to have died the same day. Ignatius would have been sixteen years old at the time.
Ignatius’s mother, Marina Sánchez de Licona, was the daughter of Doctor Martín de Licona, auditor of the High Court of Justice; he had considerable influence in the court of Castile. His brother, Juan Pérez de Licona, founded the first monastery of the reformed Franciscans in Guipúzcoa. Marina’s marriage contract with Beltrán is dated 13 July 1467. The date of her death is unknown. It may well have been soon after Ignatius’s birth; it was certainly before 1498, when her eldest surviving son, Martín García, married Doña Magdalena de Aroaz and became Lord of Loyola. Marina’s eldest son, Juan Peréz, had equipped his own ship and taken part in the wars against France for the possession of Naples, where he died of his wounds in battle.
The Loyola coat of arms, seen still today over the entrance to the castle of Loyola, was a camp kettle or cauldron hung by a chain between two wolves. The kettle is said to suggest that after generous feasting there was always something left for the wolves. The lobo (wolf) and the olla (pot) evoke by the sound of their syllables the word Loyola. As a place name, Loyola, meaning a muddy site, was common to several regions of the Basque country. It was not exactly a complimentary description of the land.
The Loyolas were eminent among the ricos hombres of the province. The word ricos indicated a ruling class rather than a rich one. As the youngest son, Ignatius would be landless, and he therefore belonged to the second degree of nobility, or hidalgos, men distinguished by their noble lineage.
A few days after his birth, Ignatius was handed over to a wet nurse, María de Guerin, wife of a local blacksmith. María lived in a cottage not far from the castle of Loyola. It was a normal practice among the upper classes in Europe, well into the eighteenth century, for a newborn baby to be handed over to a local wet nurse, with infants placed in the care of a village woman for one or two years. It was a common belief that a mother’s milk was spoilt by sexual intercourse, which most couples were unwilling to forgo for such a long period.
Almost all of Ignatius’s brothers, with the exception of Pero López, who became a priest and rector of Azpeitia, had entered or were soon to enter the service of the Spanish crown, either bearing arms or taking part in the conquest of the Americas. Ignatius was only five when his brother, Juan Pérez, died in Naples of wounds received in battle. Hernando, another brother, set sail for America in 1510 and died in Panama. Yet another brother, whose name is unknown, died in Hungary fighting the Turks, who were then threatening Vienna.
As the youngest son of the family, Ignatius would almost automatically have been destined for a priestly or clerical career. He would have done his earliest studies with other boys of the parish, or possibly at home with a tutor. It is known that later at Arévalo, as a page to King Ferdinand’s treasurer, Juan Velásquez de Cuéllar, Ignatius took pains to improve his already fine handwriting and was appreciated for his excellent penmanship. He learned the traditional dances of the country, such as the danza real, popular in Azpeitia, which was accompanied by fifes, tambourines, and bagpipes. To the end of his life, Ignatius remembered the dances and songs of the Basque country. In his later years, when in low spirits, he would invite a Jesuit priest to his room to play the clavichord, something that delighted him.
Arévalo is at the heart of Castile, between Valladolid and Ávila. Dominating the town was the fortress home of Juan Velásquez de Cuéllar. It was the official residence of the Gran Contador, the Treasurer of Castile, which was the office held by de Cuéllar. The infante, Don Fernando, who would become the Holy Roman Emperor in 1556, was reared in Juan Velásquez’s home.
Ignatius was about sixteen when he went to Arévalo to serve as a page. For nine or ten years, he was brought up with Velásquez’s twelve children. The three youngest of the six boys became his constant companions. With them he learned to ride, use his sword, and flirt with girls.
Ignatius’s days at Arévalo were passed in the afterglow of the Renaissance inspired by Queen Isabella of Spain, who had died in 1504. She had initiated a religious, literary, and artistic revival in Castile. As well as giving her backing to Christopher Columbus’s voyage of discovery, she patronised the University of Salamanca and, with Francisco Jiménez de Cisneros, Archbishop of Toledo, founded the University of Alcalá. Queen Isabella also encouraged the printing of books.
For thirty-six years, Queen Isabella’s mother had lived in the castle of Arévalo. King Ferdinand (†1516) is known to have stayed there eleven times, occasionally for a whole week. From this fact, we can be almost certain that Ignatius would have seen King Ferdinand and his vast royal entourage, a sight that must have made some impression on the young page. This is the society in which the adolescent Ignatius moved.
The interior walls of the de Cuéllar residence were covered with tapestries depicting scenes from the romance Amadis of Gaul.2 Its chapel was well known for its music. At times, Ignatius would have taken lessons from Juan de Anchieta, a Basque related to him on his mother’s side, who was one of the most distinguished Spanish musicians of his day. It was perhaps from Anchieta that Ignatius learnt to play the lute. He was thrilled by the sound of refined court music.
Although Ignatius may have received the clerical tonsure before leaving his home in Loyola, he must have soon made it quite clear that he had no ambition of following a clerical career. In what is sometimes called The Autobiography,3 we read, “Until the age of twenty-six he was a man given up to the vanities of the world, and his chief delight used to be in the exercise of arms.”4 Ignatius’s later secretary in the Society of Jesus, Juan de Polanco, writes of the young Ignatius:
Up to this time [of his conversion], although very much attached to the faith, he did not live in keeping with his belief or guard himself from sins; he was particularly careless about gambling, affairs with women, brawls, and the use of arms; this, however, was through force of habit.5
Once, on a visit home to Loyola while he was still in the service of Velásquez de Cuellar, Ignatius was involved in a local brawl in which he and his priest-brother, Pero López, attacked the parish clergy. There is a record of the fracas in the correctional court of Guipúzcoa. It seems that Ignatius was the gang leader. The riot took place on carnival day, Shrove Tuesday, 20 February 1515. Ignatius’s crimes were said to be “heinous [enormes], premeditated, and committed at night.” The judge described Ignatius as “bold and defiant, cunning, violent, and vindictive.” He was armed with sword, dagger, pistol, and breastplate, obviously well prepared for the struggle. In any event, Ignatius somehow seems to have been excused his blatant misdemeanours.6 It is possible that he invoked his clerical status and had recourse to the Church in order to escape a severe penalty.7
Juan Velásquez de Cuéllar died suddenly on 12 August 1517. A new post was found for Ignatius by Juan Velásquez’s widow, María de Velasco, who gave him five hundred coins and two horses to visit Don Antonio Manique de Lara, Duke of Nájera, Viceroy of Navarre. Although he was a skilful swordsman at this stage, contrary to popular belief and legend, Ignatius was never a professional soldier. He spent three years as a gentleman of the Viceroy Duke’s household, and during most of that time he remained in Pamplona. Apart from the famous episode of the battle of Pamplona, Ignatius’s delight in the vanity of arms was limited to participating in tournaments, duels, and challenges of honour.
One of Ignatius’s early biographers, the Jesuit Pedro de Ribadeneira, confessed that Ignatius’s later mild manner and peaceful gravity were actually cover-ups for a choleric temperament that had been subdued.8 According to Ribadeneira, Ignatius as a young man was vigorous and polished and very much enamoured of finery and being well dressed.
Not too long after the outrageous brawl in Loyola, Ignatius seems to have been up to his old tricks again. Francisco de Oya, a dependant of the Countess of Camiña, either in a duel or a street fight actually wounded Ignatius and made no secret of his intention to kill him. For self-protection, Ignatius petitioned King Charles V of Spain for permission to carry arms and to go about with two bodyguards. This is among the first extant letters of Ignatius.9 The royal licence was granted on 10 November 1519, but was restricted to one year and to one guard. It would seem that this threat to his life was caused by some rivalry between Ignatius and de Oya over a young lady.
Thus, Ignatius was very much a man of the world, little bothered about the things of God and about sincere, personal religious practice. This would soon change.