CHAPTER V
The news of D. John's spontaneous departure for the island of Malta to fight the Turks caused such enthusiasm among the people of Madrid that they went shouting through the streets, applauding the worthy son of Charles V.
The nobility, for their part, then paid to this lad of eighteen the most sincere homage which can be paid to the perfect man, set up as our model, that of copying him. The greater portion of the young nobles hastened to embark with D. John at Barcelona, some only with their swords and good intentions, having nothing else to bring; others, at their own cost, brought men-at-arms to fight against the Turk, the constant nightmare of the Europe of that day.
The most important of these gentlemen was D. Bernardino de Cárdenas, Lord of Colmenar de Oreja; D. Luis Carillo, eldest son of the Conde de Priego, and his uncle D. Luis with a great company taken at his charge of gentlemen, kindred, captains, and servants; D. Jerónimo de Padilla, D. Gabriel Manrique, son of the Conde de Osorno, D. Bernardino de Mendoza, brother of the Conde de Coruña, D. Diego de Gúzman, Steward to the Queen, D. Lorenzo Manuel, D. Francisco Zapata de Cárdenas, D. Pedro de Luxán, D. Gabriel Niño, Juan Bautista Tassis, afterwards Conde de Villamediano, and a lot of other Castillian, Andalucian, and Aragonese gentlemen.
There arrived also at the last moment four of Prince Carlos's gentlemen, of whom one was afterwards the famous Marqués de Castel Rodrigo, D. Christóbal de Moúra.
All this made Philip II think, and from that moment he gave up the idea of forcing his brother into the Church,understanding that he would gain more from D. John by using his prestige and courage in matters of war.
Meanwhile D. John was flying from the hat in search of glory, with such bad luck that on arriving at Torija he had to stop, ill of a tertian fever. He was cared for as well as they could manage in a castle that the Conde de Coruña had there, and, more plucky than cured, he went on his way to Frasno, five leagues from Saragossa. Here the fever returned with such force that he could go no further. This place belonged to the Conde de Rivagorza, the Duque de Villahermosa, D. Martin de Aragón, a great gentleman who experienced shortly afterwards, in the person of his eldest son, the most tragic disaster, perhaps, in all the history of the Grandees.
This nobleman was the widower of Doña Luisa de Borja, sister of St. Francis; after fighting in Flanders, and much distinguishing himself at the battle of St. Quintin, he was then living in retirement with his sons in the town of Pedrola. The Duke was told of the illustrious guest on his property, ill in the miserable inn of Frasno, and he hastened to send eighteen mules with everything necessary for the use of a prince, even to beds and coverings, and a complete set of hammered plate.
Not satisfied with this, the Duke went to Frasno with two of the doctors in his service, and pressed D. John to move to his country house at Pedrola or to his castle of Benabarre, the principal place of the county of Rivagorza, where he could be attended to and looked after with the greatest care.
D. John had not time to accept the invitation of the first Grandee of Aragón, because the Archbishop of Saragossa, hearing of his illness and being at Frasno, at once sent the Governor of the town, with many other noble gentlemen, to fetch D. John and carry him off to be well looked after in his own palace.
This Archbishop was D. Hernando of Aragón, grandson of King Ferdinand the Catholic, and was respected as much for his age as for his illustrious lineage.
So D. John was moved with many precautions by mulesand litters belonging to the Duque de Villahermosa, who accompanied him with great courtesy until he left him installed in the Archbishop's palace.
The Archbishop received him outside the palace, and the people ran to see the Emperor's son, and to show by their applause their sympathy with him in his youthful escapade.
D. Pedro Manuel had arrived in Frasno, and no sooner did he see D. John a little better, than he hastened to give him D. Philip's order, adding, on his own account, "that he could not go on unless he wished to make the King angry, as the galleys in which he could have sailed had left Barcelona."
To which D. John answered gravely, that the undertaking was in the service of God and of the King his lord, and that this being so, he could not give it up with honour; so he sent D. José de Acuña to Barcelona, to see if there was a galley for his passage. The Archbishop and Governor and many gentlemen also begged him "to go back to Madrid, as they had orders from the King to stop him."
But to this D. John would not give in either. The Archbishop, accordingly, with the King's letter in his hand, notified him "that he should not go further," but D. John, without losing his calmness or politeness, persisted in his wish. Then the Archbishop, Governor, and notables of Aragón, who had hurried to Saragossa, were so charmed by the audacity and firm purpose of this lad of eighteen, that they begged him, if he still persisted in going, "to take 500 arquebusiers for his guard, as it was not right to go alone, and that the Kingdom would pay for them, as long as the expedition lasted." To which D. John replied that, "if he embarked, he would accept their offer." Then they offered him a great sum of money in crowns, but D. John gratefully and courteously refused this.
With an enthusiastic farewell from everyone D. John set out from Saragossa for Belpuche, where he lodged with the Viceroy of Naples. Then he went to Montserrat, to visit the celebrated sanctuary, and the monks, in league with the Viceroy of Catalonia, who was the Duque deFrancavilla, arranged to amuse him in the monastery until the galleys for Malta had set sail from Barcelona.
Then the Viceroy, the Duque de Francavilla, with the magistrates, the Archbishop of Tarragona, and the Bishop of Barcelona came to receive him in Montserrat, begging him to return to Madrid in accordance with the King's will as the galleys had sailed for the island of Malta. To which D. John answered imperturbably that, if there were no galleys in Barcelona, he could easily find one by crossing France, as he thought of doing, to seek one in another place.
Puzzled what to do, the Viceroy accompanied him to Barcelona, with much honour and a great following, and entertained him there with feasts, rejoicings and balls, in order to give time for the last resource, which was an autograph letter from the King to D. John, ordering him to return at once, without delay, to Madrid, under pain of his royal and lasting displeasure.
D. John bowed his head to such a conclusive threat, and returned at once to Madrid, with as much applause from everyone for his obedience as for his first brave resolution.
He was received with great enthusiasm in Madrid, and the first to go and meet him was Prince Carlos, who gave him a gold ring with a magnificent diamond, the work of Jacome Trezzo, which cost 800 ducats.
The King was not then in Madrid, having gone to Segovia and Sepulveda to meet the Queen Doña Isabel, his wife, who was returning from the celebrated conference of Bayonne.
Their Majesties' return was announced for the 30th of July, and Prince Carlos and D. John went three leagues from the town to receive them.
The King and D. John had not met since the latter's prank, and the interview promised to be embarrassing.
But good Queen Isabel's prudence and cleverness, however, gave it a more pleasant turn, for, as soon as she saw D. John, she made him approach, and, without giving him time to say anything or make any sign, she askedhim, with a sly smile, if the Turks of Malta had seemed brave to him. The would-be champion became as red as a poppy, and answered bitterly that, to his great sorrow, he had not been able to find out.
At this D. Philip laughed, and affectionately embraced his brother, whispering to him to have patience, that very shortly the armada would be ready to go against the pirates of the Mediterranean, of which he had already decided to make D. John Generalissimo.
CHAPTER VI
This adventure made D. John the fashion, as we should say now, a thing which existed in the sixteenth century without being so called. He became the spoilt child of the Court and the idol of the people, to such a degree that many of them wished him to be the heir to the crown, in default of D. Carlos.
D. John's good looks had much to do with this; he was then only nineteen, but was already perfectly developed.
He was of a good height, slim and altogether graceful, because neatness was as much a part of him as flexibility is of fine-tempered steel.
He had fair hair, brushed up to the left in the form of a toupee, a fashion made common by his imitators and called "à la Austriaca"; his beard, the same colour as his hair, was thin; his complexion pale, but rather sunburnt, which gave him a pleasing, manly appearance; big blue eyes, always clear and bright, which could be smiling and loving or grave and severe, as he wished.
He was debonair and very nice in his person, and ostentatious in his dress, which was always in the extreme of fashion, as may be seen in some of his pictures.
That which radiated from him and made him so irresistible was that "je ne sais quoi" belonging to very superior men, which attracts, enchants, and subjugates, and, according to a very profound writer, consists in the mysterious combination of grace, talent, and desire to please.
Such was the attractive figure of D. John when he began to be a real personage at the much-discussed Court of his brother.
Certainly that Court was not then, if it ever was, thegloomy, austere convent, represented to us by those who believe, or seem to believe, in an awesome legendary Philip II, surrounded by holocausts and gallows, and Inquisitors and friars.
Nor was it either the united family of devout maidens and saintly matrons, venerable old men and immaculate pages, which those make out who would, in all good faith, imprison the colossal Philip II in the rickety form of a devout monk.
The Court of Philip II was certainly the strictest of its day, but it was also the most magnificent, sumptuous and full of harmless amusement and the knight errantry of those times, without lacking, as was natural, intrigues, plots and scandals between gallants and ladies. These D. Philip sometimes put down openly with a firm hand, at others corrected secretly, and not a few he pretended not to notice, for reasons which must always remain unknown.
The Court was divided, as nearly always happens, into two absolutely different camps—the courtly and the political.
The principal personages of the former at that time were two princesses, as remarkable for their virtue as for their beauty, and united by the bonds of the tenderest friendship. They were the Queen Isabel de Valois and the widowed Princess of Portugal, Doña Juana, the first aged only twenty and the other thirty at this date.
Their circle included the numerous ladies of both their suites, belonging to the highest Spanish nobility, although the Queen's included a few Frenchwomen and the Princess's several Portuguese, and these foreigners were always at war with the Spanish women.
The Queen's ladies numbered over fifty, all spinsters, and they only remained at the palace until the King had found advantageous alliances for them.
There were also ten duennas of honour, all widows and ladies of high rank, and at their head the Camarera Mayor, who had to be a lady of quality, and was, at that time, the Dowager Condesa de Urena, Doña Maria de la Cueva, a matron of great judgment and experience and the mother of the first Duque de Osuna.
Photo AndersonELIZABETH DE VALOIS. ISABEL DE LA PAZ,THIRD WIFE OF PHILIP IIFrom her picture by Pantoja de La Cruz in Prado Gallery, Madrid
Photo AndersonELIZABETH DE VALOIS. ISABEL DE LA PAZ,THIRD WIFE OF PHILIP IIFrom her picture by Pantoja de La Cruz in Prado Gallery, Madrid
Photo AndersonELIZABETH DE VALOIS. ISABEL DE LA PAZ,THIRD WIFE OF PHILIP IIFrom her picture by Pantoja de La Cruz in Prado Gallery, Madrid
Princess Juana also had her ladies, her very respectable duennas, and her Camarera Mayor, Doña Isabel de Quiñones. Doña Elenor Mascarenas, her former and beloved and revered governess, had already retired from the Court, and was then founding, in what is to-day the square of Santo Domingo, the convent of the Angels, where, years afterwards, she ended her holy life.
It pleased the Queen to amuse her ladies with riding, hunting, picnics in the groves, balls, masquerades and theatricals in her apartments, in which they all, including the Queen, took part, and where they also played, at times so high, that in one night Prince Carlos, at a game called "el clavo," lost 100 golden crowns, according to the declaration of his barber Ruy Diaz de Quitanilla, who had lent them to the Prince.
To these entertainments the Queen was in the habit of inviting also all the great ladies who had no places at Court, but who lived in Madrid, or those who were only passing through, particularly the Princess of Évoli, of whom she was always a great friend, and the Duquesa de Alba, Doña Maria Enríquez, who was afterwards her Camarera Mayor, and at all times deserved the greatest affection and respect.
Princess Juana for her part was very fond of the country, and often retired to the Pardo, where she had brilliant concerts which were festivals of real pleasure and enjoyment, with many musicians and singers, whom she kept in her service and paid.
In these high circles D. John of Austria sought and found his lady love, and here he performed his first deeds of arms and of gallantry, thinking, in his simplicity, that the loves of youth might be found in the midst of dangers, in the platonic spheres of the fantastic Orianas, Angelicas, and Melisandres of whom his head was full, and who stirred his blood and heart.
All that was most select among the youth at the Court naturally grouped itself round D. John, and it was hewho set the tone, arranged the tournaments, hunts, cane games, masquerades and "camisadas" which then formed the pleasures of the young nobles.
But although all sought his favour, only two became intimate with him, and continued so until death, the Conde de Orgaz and D. Rodrigo de Mendoza, second son of the Duque del Infantado.
At this time, too, there inserted himself first into D. John's acquaintance and then into his friendship, a very clever youth of mean birth and great personal charm, who afterwards brought D. John great misfortunes, and who at that time was driving him with great astuteness into one of the two parties which then divided the political camp at Court. His name was Antonio Pérez, the illegitimate son of the ecclesiastic Gonzalo Pérez, secretary first to the Emperor, then to Philip II.
The two parties in the Court fought over the little power which the all-absorbing personal government of Philip left to his ministers. At the head of one was the great Duque de Alba, who represented the purely warlike policy of force; the other was led by the Prince of Évoli, D. Ruy Gómez, representing the opposite policy of diplomacy, intrigue and peace.
The followers of the first were the Prior D. Antonio de Toledo, the Prince of Mélito, the Marqués de Aguilar, and the secretary, Zayas; the partisans of the other were the Archbishop of Toledo, D. Gaspar de Quiroga, the Marqués de los Vélez, Mateo Vázguez, Santoyo and Gonzalo Pérez.
It is most extraordinary that the open, generous nature of D. John did not lead him to the side of the Duque de Alba, and that, on the contrary, he joined the Prince of Évoli, who rather represented the lawyers and churchmen, but no doubt the explanation must be sought in the cleverness which this party displayed in attracting him, guessing the genuine great qualities of the illustrious youth.
They first provided Antonio Pérez, who with adroit flatteries, in which he was a past master, and with studied confidences as between man and man, made D. John understandhow much he was appreciated by the coterie of Ruy Gómez, the great hopes they placed in his bravery and influence, and how much they were trying to work on the King to name him Captain-General of the Mediterranean galleys, as he had already promised.
All of which, it is unnecessary to say, assumed a great air of truth in the mouth of the son of Gonzalo Pérez, who through this channel might well know what was happening, since it was intended that he should succeed his father in the appointment.
When the ground was sufficiently prepared for such an important personage to step in without danger, Ruy Gómez arranged a meeting, as if by accident, with D. John, and repeated the same things in a different way, adding that his appointment was already settled and that it was a magnificent one, as also was the ship "Capitana," which was being got ready at Barcelona, that it would not be long before his desire of fighting the Turks was gratified at the head of a brilliant squadron, and that was a foregone conclusion.
Gonzalo Pérez died this year (1566), and Philip II resisted the efforts of Ruy Gómez to obtain his father's vacant secretaryship for Antonio Pérez, giving as a pretext, not his youth, for he was thirty-two, but the laxity of his life and the depravity of his morals.
Taking, however, as a sign of repentance and amendment Antonio Pérez's marriage with Doña Juana de Coello Bozmediano, which was celebrated on the 3rd of January, 1567, D. Philip hastened to bestow on him Gonzalo Pérez's secretaryship, which delighted D. John as much as if it were the summit of his ambitions or the triumph of his interests.
Once having caught the Prince on the weak side of his ambitions, they wished to do so on that of his platonic love. The Princess de Évoli undertook this, attracting him to her house, giving in his honour balls and banquets, and putting before his eyes, and even within his reach, the lady, the object of his then honest intentions, Doña Maria de Mendoza, one of the ladies of the Palace, and itis thought a near kinswoman of the restless, intriguing Princess. Such artifices did the Princess use to influence the will and gain the confidence of the grateful D. John, that years afterwards, when she was no longer the intriguing, restless lady of former times, but the shameless, criminal woman who plotted with Antonio Pérez perfidious treasons which were, incidentally, to ruin D. John himself, the latter wrote, nevertheless, to his friend D. Rodrigo de Mendoza with the utmost affection and blind confidence: "I kiss the hands of my one-eyed lady, and I do not say her eyes until I write it to her, in order that she may remember this her friend, so much her friend now, who cannot do more, nor has anything else to offer her in payment of his debt. And the reason that this message is sent with so much prudence is that, coming from such a distance, it cannot be otherwise."
CHAPTER VII
The figure of Doña Maria de Mendoza appears for a moment in the story of D. John, discoloured and blurred like the melancholy picture of a fading memory, leaving behind the sad trace of a fault repented and wept over, and the painful sequel which human weaknesses always bring. Without the interference of the Princess de Évoli the loves of D. John and Doña Maria would have passed innocently away, as a bright bubble vanishes in the air, without leaving trace or mark or memory. But the influence of this wretched woman gave substance to his dreams and fire to his desires, and at last made the deluded lovers fall down the precipice.
Never, however, was trouble of this sort so discreetly managed, as this episode of D. John's first youth. Doña Magdalena de Ulloa took the matter in hand, and by her own abnegation salved the conscience of D. John and the honour of a noble family which he had stained. Nobody in the Court or town suspected what had happened, and it was only after D. John's death that Philip II himself, usually so well informed and suspicious, heard of the existence of the daughter, the fruit of their loves. A letter from Alexander Farnese, more well-intentioned than prudent, informed the King of the fact, and, had it not been for a tragic event in which years afterwards this innocent lady was mixed up, and of which she was the victim, it is certain that her existence would be as unknown to history as it was to her contemporaries.
All this happened between 1565, when D. John of Austria returned from Barcelona, and 1568, when he embarked on the Mediterranean armada, and it must have been in October, 1567, that Doña Magdalena came to the rescue.
At the beginning of this month the Queen had given birth to a daughter, called Catherine, after her maternal grandmother of Medicis, who was solemnly baptized on the 19th, at three in the afternoon, in the parish church of St. Giles, which was the church of the castle, and this was a day of great emotion for D. John.
On waking he was presented with a magnificent dress, sent to him as a gift by Princess Juana, as was her custom on all great occasions.
It was of cloth of silver, embroidered with green silk and gold thread, with linings and turnings of dark red cut velvet, and to go with it a neckband of rubies and big pearls.
D. John was simply delighted with his sister's present, because red and green, the colours of the clothes, were those of Doña Maria de Mendoza; a fact of which the austere Princess was doubtless quite ignorant, as she would never have chosen these colours wittingly.
This Princess was the godmother, the Archduke Rudolph the godfather, and D. John of Austria had to carry the baby in the procession. This was to set out at three o'clock punctually, through one of the special passages which used to be improvised then, and which united the castle with the parish church of St. Giles, already at that time a convent of bare-footed Franciscan monks.
First in the procession walked the officers of State, the gentlemen of the bedchamber and of the table, four archers, four mace-bearers, and the stewards of the Queen and the Princess. Four kings-at-arms followed in very rich dalmatics, and then the Duques de Gandía and Nájera, the Prior, D. Antonio de Toledo, the Marqués de Aguilar, the Conde de Alba de Liste and Chinchón, D. Francisco Enríquez de Ribera, President of the Orders, and the Stewards of the King.
Behind came six Grandees, who were the Duques de Arcos, Medina de Rioseco, Sesa, and Bejar, and the Condes de Ureña and Benavente, carrying respectively the hood, the taper, marchpane, salt-cellar, basin and towel, and in the midst of them D. John of Austria, with the babyin his arms, wrapped in a mantle of crimson velvet embroidered with gold thread and lined with cloth of silver; on his left the Emperor's Ambassador, and, behind, those of Portugal and France.
The two godparents came next, the Archduke Rudolph and the Princess Juana, who was preceded by her Lord Steward, D. Juan Manrique de Lara, and the Queen's, the Conde de Lemus, and followed by the Camarera Mayor, Doña Isabel de Quiñones, the Infanta's governess, Doña Maria Chacón, and the duenna Guarda Mayor, Doña Isabel de Castilla, all three in a row. Behind them were the duennas of the Queen and the Princess, their ladies, and the "meninas,"[6]who closed the procession.
But vainly amid this brilliant throng or in her allotted place D. John sought for his lady love, Doña Maria de Mendoza, which upset him very much, partly, no doubt, because he could not see her, and, perhaps, even more that she should not see him, so smart, and fine and honoured, as happens at his age and on similar occasions.
That night Doña Juana gave a ball in her apartments, in honour of her goddaughter's christening, and, to add to D. John's anxiety, neither Doña Maria de Mendoza nor the Princess de Évoli appeared there either.
He no doubt heard there from Doña Maria Ana de Aragón, daughter of the Conde de Rivagorza, who was one of the Queen's ladies, and a great friend of Maria de Mendoza, that she had gone several days before to the house of her relative, the Princess de Évoli, which redoubled D. John's anxiety, not only for the fact itself, but for not having been told so by Doña Maria.
His sister Princess Juana then called him apart, and begged him, with all the goodness of her kind heart, to make the young men improvise a "camisada," with the double purpose of celebrating the Infanta's christening, and of stopping, if only for one night, while the King wasat Court, the strange walks of Prince Carlos, who, at those hours, used to visit alone the houses of ill-fame in Madrid, an arquebus in his hand, and disguised by a false beard.
D. John agreed with the good grace he always showed in pleasing his sister, and arranged the "camisada" with the two Archdukes Rudolph and Ernest, the Prince of Parma, and all the young lords of the Court; but no one succeeded in recruiting Prince Carlos, who, as usual, had slipped away to his strange and dangerous adventures, which at that time were the scandal of the Court.
It was already past midnight when the "encamisada" collected together in the little square of Santiago, in front of D. John's house. This singular amusement consisted of a large cavalcade, in which all the riders wore white shirts over their ordinary clothes, and had their heads disguised by picturesque turbans, plumed helmets, or queer caps with ribbons and feathers. Each carried a lighted torch in his left hand, and kept the right arm out of the shirt to display his lady's colours.
In this way they went through the streets of the town until the house of the person to be honoured was reached; then under the windows they executed one of those equestrian dances, in which the riders of that day were such adepts. At their passing the neighbours awoke, lighted up their windows, and applauded the "encamisados," until in a few moments the whole place became a scene of rejoicing and festivity.
"Camisadas" were always improvised when the scarcity of time prevented the preparation of liveries and disguises which the more solemn cavalcades demanded; these were also much the fashion, and were called masquerades, although no one had his face covered.
This "Camisada" went to the royal castle from the square of Santiago, where D. John lived; he took care that it should pass before the house of the Princess de Évoli, where, as he had heard, Doña Maria de Mendoza was staying.
But his alarm and astonishment grew at seeing the house all dark and shut up, and that neither music, nortorches, nor the sound of horses, nor even the cheers that they gave on passing the house of the Princess attracted anyone to those shut balconies and windows; this was in itself strange, as it was then thought an act of great discourtesy not to display illuminations and signs of rejoicing at the passing of the "encamisadas," except in the case of grave illness or recent mourning.
However, a man, covered by a hood, came from a little door in front of St. Mary's Church as D. John was passing, and put his hand on his saddle-bow and quickly gave him a short message. The agitation of D. John knew no bounds, and his only idea was how to shorten the festivity, and, some way or other, to end the quadrilles that had to be danced by torchlight in the square of the Armoury. At last he escaped, and, just as he was, covered by the shirt, hastened alone to the house of the Princess de Évoli.
The man in the hood was still waiting for him at the little gate by St. Mary's, in front of the house which afterwards acquired so much historical celebrity,[7]and, without waiting, the man opened the door, the key of which he had.
Now the mystery begins to be cleared.
D. John did not return to his own house till just before dawn, and, according to the testimony of his valet Jorge de Lima, who was on duty that night, neither rested a moment nor went to bed; on the contrary, he paced up and down his room in a state of great agitation until it was daylight and Doña Magdalena should be dressed, as was her custom, at sunrise. Then D. John went to her rooms, where he passed the whole day, receiving no one, and eating no food except two porringers of broth with eggs beaten up in it which Doña Magdalena served him alone.
At dusk this lady went out in her litter to the house of the Princess de Évoli, her old squire Juan Galarza riding on a mule. In two hours she returned, but not alone, as she went, for she carried, carefully hidden in hershawl, a little girl, born unexpectedly and prematurely two days before, and already baptized by the name of Ana.
A few days later Doña Magdalena asked the King's permission to go and visit her estates, Luis Quijada not being able to do so on account of his duties with D. John and Prince Carlos. The King readily granted this, and Doña Magdalena left for Villagarcia, taking the baby with the greatest secrecy. D. John accompanied her on the first stage, and left her at the post-house; he asked her benediction as a mother, and she made him repeat two things he had promised, and which he religiously performed. Not to see Doña Maria de Mendoza again, and retire, as soon as he could without drawing attention, to the monastery of Abrojo, to meditate for a few days on the eternal truths away from the atmosphere of the Court.
As to Doña Maria de Mendoza, she vanished into the mist, crying like Andromache, and never saw D. John of Austria again. She stayed for a long time at the Princess de Évoli's house at Pastrana, and, on the score of delicate health, retired little by little from the Court. Without attracting anyone's attention, she succeeded in so effacing her memory, that to-day no one knows to which branch of the house of Mendoza she belonged, or where she lived after the sad episode which ruined her life. It is probable that she went to some convent to weep over that which was certainly her first false step, and very likely her only sin.[8]
CHAPTER VIII
During all this time Prince Carlos's strangeness had been increasing little by little, until it had become madness, his overbearing nature cruelty, and the aversion he showed to his father deep hatred.
It was in vain that, when the Prince was nineteen, D. Philip admitted him to the Council of State (1564), and gave him a new household, leaving Luis Quijada as Master of the Horse, but naming no less a person than Ruy Gómez de Silva, Prince of Évoli, as Lord Steward, in the place of D. Garcia de Toledo, lately dead.
All D. Carlos's household were the victims of his violence and abuse, from Ruy Gómez, whom he continually threatened that, when he was King, Ruy Gómez should know it, to the lowest barber, whom he beat with his own hand for the least delay or mistake.
One day the King was consulting with his ministers about Flemish affairs; the Prince, who was very curious about the subject, went to listen at the door, with one ear at the keyhole, the Queen's ladies and pages seeing him in this ignoble position from the gallery above. His gentleman D. Diego de Acuña hearing of it, wanted to get him away, but D. Carlos answered him by a slap in the face, which so enraged D. Diego that it was with difficulty that he restrained the impulse of plunging a dagger into the Prince's heart, and he went straight to the King and resigned his appointment. D. Philip soothed his wounded feelings by taking him into his own service, with doubled honours and salary.
D. Carlos insulted another of his gentlemen, D. Alonso de Córdoba, son of the Marqués de las Navas, in the sameway, slapping his face because he did not hasten when D. Carlos called, saying that he had intended to do it for six months, and it was fair that he should at last give vent to his desire.
One day he waylaid Cardinal Espinosa, President of Castille (who had exiled an actor named Cisnero, who was on intimate terms with D. Carlos, from the Court), at the door of the Council Chamber, and rushed at him, dagger in hand, and, pulling off his rochet, cried, "Little priest! You dare to stop Cisnero coming to wait upon me? By the life of my father, I must kill you." And so he would have done, had not some of the Grandees, who hastened at the cries, released the Cardinal from him.
This insolence to great personages became monstrous cruelty to the lower orders. In the Palace accounts, preserved in the Archives of Simancas, one meets with entries of indemnification paid to the fathers of boys caused to be beaten by D. Carlos. One day he wanted to throw his valet, Juan Estévez de Lobon, out of a window into the castle moat, after having beaten him, and he obliged a shoemaker, who had made him boots that were too tight, to eat them cooked and cut up in small pieces. Water fell on him one day from a window, and he at once sent a guard to burn the house and kill the inhabitants, and, "to satisfy him," says Cabrera de Córdoba, "the guard returned and said that the Holy Sacrament of the Viaticum was entering the house, and for this they had respected the walls."
On one occasion he shut himself up for five hours in the stables, and on leaving left twenty horses rendered useless through his ill-treatment, including a favourite one of the King's, which died two days afterwards.
He added to these cruel extravagances, the work of an unhinged mind, unkind, barefaced exhibitions of aversion towards his father, of which good proof was found in his papers afterwards.
Among these there was a blank book, with the title, written by the Prince's own hand, "The Great Travels of the King Philip II," and then on each of its pages thesesneers: "The journey from Madrid to the Pardo," "From the Pardo to the Escorial," "From the Escorial to Aranjuez," "From Aranjuez to Toledo," "From Toledo to Valladolid," "From Valladolid to Burgos," "From Burgos to Madrid," and "From the Pardo to Aranjuez," "From Aranjuez to the Escorial," "From the Escorial to Madrid," etc.
In another paper, written also by him, was "The list of my enemies," and the first name that figured on it was "The King, my father." Then followed Ruy Gómez de Silva, the Princess de Évoli, Cardinal Espinosa, the Duque de Alba, and various other lords. On the other side of the paper he had written "List of my friends," "Queen Isabel, who has always been very good to me." And then "D. John of Austria, my much-loved uncle," then Luis Quijada, D. Pedro Fajardo, and very few more.
Indeed, Queen Isabel and D. John were the only two people the unlucky Prince spared in his hatred and general rudeness; and this has furnished poets, novelists and pseudo-learned persons with the supposition that between this unfortunate Prince, who never became a man, and the virtuous D. Isabel of the Peace, model of queens and wives, there existed a romantic and incestuous passion, which has served as a base for their midnight studies, calumnies to-day for those who even partially know history. Everyone in Madrid knew of and regretted D. Carlos's mad conduct, and foreign Courts also knew of it, as in their dispatches Ambassadors hastened to send the information, which has enabled posterity to know and judge all these circumstances.
But, although D. Carlos's physical and moral defects were so well known, there was not a Princess in Europe then who would not have been very pleased to give her hand to the heir of the most powerful monarch in the world.
So the various Courts began to present their candidates, first Queen Catherine de Medicis, who proposed for the Prince of the Asturias her younger daughter Margaret de Valois, the celebrated Margot, afterwards Queen ofNavarre. At that time the King of France, Francis II, died, and the Guises, always friendly to Philip II, proposed their niece, the recently widowed Mary Stuart, who was also Queen of Scotland in her own right.
The Court of Lisbon, on their part, proposed Princess Juana, and in this sense the great widowed Queen of Portugal, Doña Catalina, wrote to D. Philip, with whom her opinion had much weight, as being grandmother of Prince Carlos and the only remaining sister of the Emperor, and a lady of such great virtues and talents. This alliance was also desired by the nation, as, although the difference in age between the nephew and the aunt was considerable, even this added to the great qualities of the Princess, who had done so well during her regency, and was considered to be a guarantee that her merit would supply the great deficiencies that they noted and feared in D. Carlos.
Last of all, but with great probabilities of success, the Emperor Maximilian of Austria suggested his granddaughter the Archduchess Doña Ana.
Philip II received all these proposals with his usual reserve, neither accepting nor refusing, and, slowly studying them, gave or took away hopes as it suited his policy, but, as was usual in such cases, taking into consideration neither the tastes nor wishes of his son. But D. Carlos was not a man to have the wishes of others foisted on him, least of all those of his father; and, without considering them, resolved to act for himself. He asked for the portraits of the three Princesses, and, after having carefully examined them, he resolved to fall in love with his cousin the Archduchess Ana, and told everyone so, and even convinced himself. He was seen passing hours gazing at the portrait of the Archduchess, which he kept in his room in a round ebony box with silver mouldings.
D. Carlos laid his plans, and neither with the submission of a son nor the humility of a subject, but as from one power to another and as one who asks and demands in his own right, he announced to the King his wish to marry the Archduchess, and to be given the government of the States of Flanders.
Perhaps this was Philip's own idea, and whether because it was so, or whether to ingratiate himself with the Prince, or whether, as some say, D. Philip did not show the same determination face to face that he always did from afar, it is certain that he heard his son favourably, and promised at once to negotiate his marriage with the Archduchess, to accompany him to Flanders with the expedition which was preparing, and himself instruct his son in the manners and customs of that country.
Satisfied by this, D. Carlos wished to secure the success of his plan by adiplomatic strokein his own way, which he did with so much haughty folly, that he displayed his incapacity for anything like prudence and government before the whole of Europe.
The Cortes of Castille had been convoked since the 1st of December of that year 1556, and the meetings were held in one of the rooms of the castle. On the 22nd of December Philip II, as usual, went to the Escorial for the Christmas festival, and D. Carlos availed himself of this absence to effect his stroke.
He therefore presented himself one morning, unexpectedly, at the meeting of the members, and, without any warning, preamble or announcement, said in a very angry, haughty way, "You must know that my father is thinking of going to Flanders, and I wish at all costs to accompany him. I know that at the last Cortes you had the impertinence to ask my father to marry me to the Princess, my aunt; I do not understand why you should interfere with my marriage, or that it matters to you whether my father marries me to one or the other. I do not wish that you should allow yourselves the fresh impertinence of asking my father to leave me in Spain, and I therefore forbid you to make such a petition, on the understanding that the member who does this will have me for a mortal enemy, and I will do all I can to ruin him."
Having said this, he ordered the members not to dare to say anything of this scene to the King, and he turned his back, leaving these worthy men astounded by his folly and insolence.
Grave disorders broke out in Flanders soon after, and the King put off his journey, sending on the Duque de Alba to pacify those States. The anger of Prince Carlos on hearing this knew no bounds, as he saw his plans in danger, and felt himself passed over, thinking in his heedless pride that, better than anyone, he could pacify the Low Countries.
The Duque de Alba could not help taking leave of the Prince when he went to kiss the King's hand at Aranjuez, where the Court then was.
But no sooner did D. Carlos see him come into the room, than he shouted out in a rage, that "he was not to go to Flanders, because it was his journey; that he should not do it, and if he contradicted he should be killed."
The Duke respectfully answered that the life of H.H. was too precious to expose on such an expedition, that he was only going first to pacify the States, that H.H. should then come and find himself on firm ground. But the Prince, blind with anger, drew out his dagger and threw himself on the Duke, crying out, "You are not to go to Flanders, or I must kill you." The Duke took hold of both his arms, and they joined in a struggle, until the Prince, overcome, fell back breathless. And as the Duke continued with his reasons, in order to calm him, the Prince, all at once, set on him again, this time treacherously, meaning to plunge his dagger in Alba's breast. The Duke held him, and the struggle began again, until the courtiers, this time attracted by the noise, separated them, taking hold of the furious Prince and allowing the Duke to retire.
CHAPTER IX
The temporary healing of the breach between Philip II and Prince Charles was ended by all this, and it widened again when the latter saw that the King was beginning to delay and put obstacles in the way of his projected marriage with the Archduchess Ana. D. Philip's reasons, however, for so doing could not have been better or more conscientious. Up till now the Prince's unfitness for marriage had only been a rumour, more or less explained, to which his looks and conduct gave an appearance of truth.
At this time circumstances occurred which made patent what previously had only been conjectured.
From that time D. Carlos began a strange life, which offered grave suspicions; he spent large sums of money, no one knew how; he went out alone every night, wearing a false beard, and with an arquebus in his hand, to all the houses of ill fame in Madrid; he came back sometimes without his shirt, at other times he had the one he was wearing burnt in his presence; in short, everything in him showed a strange intemperance, in whose muddy depths, perchance, may be found the key of the mystery which surrounds his imprisonment and death.
Because it is really extraordinary that in all the very intimate letters which Philip II, on the imprisonment of D. Carlos, wrote to the Pope, to the Dowager Queen of Portugal, Doña Catalina, the Prince's grandmother, to the Emperor Maximilian and the Empress Maria, who were to have been his father- and mother-in-law, and to the great Duque de Alba, he hastens to clear his son from all suspicion of heresy, rebellion, disrespect to his person, or other such crimes which would justify hisrigorous measures, and only makes an attempt to do this in all of them by repeating almost identically the same sentence: "In excesses which result from his nature and particular condition, which cannot be repeated for the decency of the case and the honour and estimation of the Prince."
At last D. Carlos, despairing of governing Flanders by his father's leave, and also fearing that his father was breaking off his marriage with Doña Ana, determined to fly from Spain and go to Italy, and from thence to Flanders or Germany, as the circumstances should dictate. The most necessary thing for this was money, and he sent his attendants, Garci Álvarez Osorio and Juan Martinez de la Cuadra, therefore, to borrow 600,000 ducats from among the merchants of Toledo, Medina del Campo, Valladolid and Burgos. But the credit of D. Carlos was very bad on those markets, because they all knew him to be as free in borrowing as he was faithless in paying, and the efforts of Osorio and de la Cuadra only produced a few thousand ducats.
Nothing daunted by this, D. Carlos sent Garci Álvarez Osorio to Seville with twelve blank letters of credit, of which the text was: "The Prince. Garci Álvarez, my attendant, who will give you this, will speak to you, and will ask you, in my name, for certain sums of money to be lent for a pressing and urgent necessity; I beg and charge you much to do it; on the one hand you will perform your obligations as vassal, on the other you will give me great pleasure. In all that concerns payment I rely on the said Osorio, that what he settles I accept as settled. Madrid, 1st of December, 1567."
And in his own hand: "In this you will please me much. I, the Prince."
He wrote at the same time to many of the Grandees of Spain, saying that he had to go on a journey of great importance, and hoping that they would accompany him and give him their aid.
These requests were answered in very different ways; some, like the Duques de Sesa, Medina de Rioseco, and theMarqués de Pescara, answered, without suspecting anything wrong, that, unconditionally, they would follow him; others, more suspicious, said that they would lend their aid to anything that was not against religion or the service of the King; and a few, like the Admiral, knowing better how the land lay, secretly sent the Prince's letter to the King, begging him to read and study it.
Meanwhile Garci Álvarez Osorio returned from his journey to Seville, where he had made many good and quick negotiations on behalf of D. Carlos, who, seeing the money, thought that everything was settled, and began to make his final arrangements.
He wrote a long letter to the King, his father, full of bitter and offensive complaints, throwing on him the responsibility for his conduct, and also to the Pope, to his grandmother Queen Catalina, to all the Princes of Christendom, Grandees, Chancellors, Courts, and cities of the kingdom, explaining his flight, and attributing it to his father's tyranny and hatred.
All these letters were to have been sent to their destinations after the flight had become an accomplished fact, and meanwhile D. Carlos kept them in a steel casket inlaid with gold, which he locked up in his writing-table.
One thing which D. Carlos judged essential, as it was, he had not done; this was to consult D. John of Austria. Two months before, at the beginning of October, the King had sent for D. John to the Escorial, and had at last granted him the command of the Mediterranean galleys, as he had promised.
It was in one of these galleys, now anchored at Cartagena, that D. Carlos intended to go to Italy, and it was this indispensable help, added to the great prestige that D. John enjoyed among the nobles at Court and all over the kingdom, which made D. Carlos think, this time very rationally, that the success of his project perhaps depended on D. John's yes or no. So, on Christmas Eve, he called his uncle, and was closeted with him for two long hours in his room, unfolding his plans, begging D. John's help, and in return making him great offers.