History of the Reign of Philip the Second, King of Spain Part 6 (1/2)

At least, an old chronicler peevishly complains that ”the hall-door within the court was continually shut, so that no man might enter unless his errand were first known; which seemed strange to Englishmen that had not been used thereto.”[112]

Yet Philip, although his apprehensions for his safety had doubtless subsided, was wise enough to affect the same conciliatory manners as on his first landing,--and not altogether in vain. ”He discovered,” says the Venetian amba.s.sador, in his report to the senate, ”none of that _sosiego_--the haughty indifference of the Spaniards--which distinguished him when he first left home for Italy and Flanders.[113]

He was, indeed, as accessible as any one could desire, and gave patient audience to all who asked it. He was solicitous,” continues Micheli, ”to instruct himself in affairs, and showed a taste for application to business,”--which, it may be added, grew stronger with years. ”He spoke little. But his remarks, though brief, were pertinent. In short,” he concludes, ”he is a prince of an excellent genius, a lively apprehension, and a judgment ripe beyond his age.”

Philip's love of business, however, was not such as to lead him to take part prematurely in the management of affairs. He discreetly left this to the queen and her ministers, to whose judgment he affected to pay the greatest deference. He particularly avoided all appearance of an attempt to interfere with the administration of justice, unless it were to obtain some act of grace. Such interference only served to gain him the more credit with the people.[114]

[Sidenote: PHILIP'S INFLUENCE.]

That he gained largely on their good-will may be inferred from the casual remarks of more than one contemporary writer. They bear emphatic testimony to the affability of his manners, so little to have been expected from the popular reports of his character. ”Among other things,” writes Wotton, the English minister at the French court, ”one I have been right glad to hear of is, that the king's highness useth himself so gently and lovingly to all men. For, to tell you the truth, I have heard some say, that, when he came out of Spain into Italy, it was by some men wished that he had showed a somewhat more benign countenance to the people than it was said he then did.”[115] Another contemporary, in a private letter, written soon after the king's entrance into London, after describing his person as ”so well proportioned that Nature cannot work a more perfect pattern,” concludes with commending him for his ”pregnant wit and most gentle nature.”[116]

Philip, from the hour of his landing, had been constant in all his religious observances. ”He was as punctual,” says Micheli, ”in his attendance at ma.s.s, and his observance of all the forms of devotion, as any monk;--more so, as some people thought, than became his age and station. The ecclesiastics,” he adds, ”with whom Philip had constant intercourse, talked loudly of his piety.”[117]

Yet there was no hypocrisy in this. However willing Philip may have been that his concern for the interests of religion might be seen of men, it is no less true that, as far as he understood these interests, his concern was perfectly sincere. The actual state of England may have even operated as an inducement with him to overcome his scruples as to the connection with Mary. ”Better not reign at all,” he often remarked, ”than reign over heretics.” But what triumph more glorious than that of converting these heretics, and bringing them back again into the bosom of the Church? He was most anxious to prepare the minds of his new subjects for an honorable reception of the papal legate, Cardinal Pole, who was armed with full authority to receive the submission of England to the Holy See. He employed his personal influence with the great n.o.bles, and enforced it occasionally by liberal drafts on those Peruvian ingots which he had sent to the Tower. At least, it is a.s.serted that he gave away yearly pensions, to the large amount of between fifty and sixty thousand gold crowns, to sundry of the queen's ministers. It was done on the general plea of recompensing their loyalty to their mistress.[118]

Early in November, tidings arrived of the landing of Pole. He had been detained some weeks in Germany, by the emperor, who felt some distrust--not ill-founded, as it seems--of the cardinal's disposition in regard to the Spanish match. Now that this difficulty was obviated, he was allowed to resume his journey. He came up the Thames in a magnificent barge, with a large silver cross, the emblem of his legatine authority, displayed on the prow. The legate, on landing, was received by the king, the queen, and the whole court, with a reverential deference which argued well for the success of his mission.

He was the man, of all others, best qualified to execute it. To a natural kindness of temper he united an urbanity and a refinement of manners, derived from familiar intercourse with the most polished society of Europe, his royal descent ent.i.tled him to mix on terms of equality with persons of the highest rank, and made him feel as much at ease in the court as in the cloister. His long exile had opened to him an acquaintance with man as he is found in various climes, while, as a native-born Englishman, he perfectly understood the prejudices and peculiar temper of his own countrymen. ”Cardinal Pole,” says the Venetian minister, ”is a man of unblemished n.o.bility, and so strict in his integrity, that he grants nothing to the importunity of friends. He is so much beloved, both by prince and people, that he may well be styled the king where all is done by his authority.”[119] An English cardinal was not of too frequent occurrence in the sacred college. That one should have been found at the present juncture, with personal qualities, moreover, so well suited to the delicate mission to England, was a coincidence so remarkable, that Philip and Mary might well be excused for discerning in it the finger of Providence.

On the seventeenth of the month, parliament, owing to the queen's indisposition, met at Whitehall; and Pole made that celebrated speech in which he recapitulated some of the leading events of his own life, and the persecutions he had endured for conscience' sake. He reviewed the changes in religion which had taken place in England, and implored his audience to abjure their spiritual errors, and to seek a reconciliation with the Catholic Church. He a.s.sured them of his plenary power to grant absolution for the past; and--what was no less important--to authorize the present proprietors to retain possession of the abbey lands which had been confiscated under King Henry. This last concession, which had been extorted with difficulty from the pope, reconciling, as it did, temporal with spiritual interests, seems to have dispelled whatever scruples yet lingered in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of the legislature. There were few, probably, in that goodly company, whose zeal would have aspired to the crown of martyrdom.

The ensuing day, parliament, in obedience to the royal summons, again a.s.sembled at Whitehall. Philip took his seat on the left of Mary, under the same canopy, while Cardinal Pole sat at a greater distance on her right.[120]

[Sidenote: THE CATHOLIC CHURCH RESTORED.]

The chancellor, Gardiner, then presented a pet.i.tion in the name of the lords and commons, praying for reconciliation with the papal see.

Absolution was solemnly p.r.o.nounced by the legate, and the whole a.s.sembly received his benediction on their bended knees. England, purified from her heresy, was once more restored to the communion of the Roman Catholic Church.

Philip instantly despatched couriers, with the glad tidings, to Rome, Brussels, and other capitals of Christendom. Everywhere the event was celebrated with public rejoicings, as if it had been some great victory over the Saracens. As Philip's zeal for the faith was well known, and as the great change had taken place soon after his arrival in England, much of the credit of it was ascribed to him.[121] Thus, before ascending the throne of Spain, he had vindicated his claim to the t.i.tle of Catholic, so much prized by the Spanish monarchs. He had won a triumph greater than that which his father had been able to win after years of war, over the Protestants of Germany; greater than any which had been won by the arms of Cortes or Pizarro in the New World. Their contest had been with the barbarian; the field of Philip's labors was one of the most potent and civilized countries of Europe.

The work of conversion was speedily followed by that of persecution. To what extent Philip's influence was exerted in this is not manifest.

Indeed, from anything that appears, it would not be easy to decide whether his influence was employed to promote or to prevent it. One fact is certain, that, immediately after the first martyrs suffered at Smithfield, Alfonso de Castro, a Spanish friar, preached a sermon in which he bitterly inveighed against these proceedings. He denounced them as repugnant to the true spirit of Christianity, which was that of charity and forgiveness, and which enjoined its ministers not to take vengeance on the sinner, but to enlighten him as to his errors, and bring him to repentance.[122] This bold appeal had its effect, even in that season of excitement. For a few weeks the arm of persecution seemed to be palsied. But it was only for a few weeks. Toleration was not the virtue of the sixteenth century. The charitable doctrines of the good friar fell on hearts withered by fanaticism; and the spirit of intolerance soon rekindled the fires of Smithfield into a fiercer glow than before.

Yet men wondered at the source whence these strange doctrines had proceeded. The friar was Philip's confessor. It was argued that he would not have dared to speak thus boldly, had it not been by the command of Philip, or, at least, by his consent. That De Castro should have thus acted at the suggestion of his master is contradicted by the whole tenor of Philip's life. Hardly four years elapsed before he countenanced by his presence an _auto da fe_ in Valladolid, where fourteen persons perished at the stake; and the burning of heretics in England could have done no greater violence to his feelings than the burning of heretics in Spain. If the friar did indeed act in obedience to Philip, we may well suspect that the latter was influenced less by motives of humanity than of policy; and that the disgust manifested by the people at the spectacle of these executions may have led him to employ this expedient to relieve himself of any share in the odium which attached to them.[123]

What was the real amount of Philip's influence, in this or other matters, it is not possible to determine. It is clear that he was careful not to arouse the jealousy of the English by any parade of it.[124] One obvious channel of it lay in the queen, who seems to have doated on him with a fondness that one would hardly have thought a temper cold and repulsive, like that of Philip, capable of exciting. But he was young and good-looking. His manners had always been found to please the s.e.x, even where he had not been so solicitous to please as he was in England. He was Mary's first and only love; for the emperor was too old to have touched aught but her vanity, and Courtenay was too frivolous to have excited any other than a temporary feeling. This devotion to Philip, according to some accounts, was ill requited by his gallantries. The Venetian amba.s.sador says of him, that ”he well deserved the tenderness of his wife, for he was the most loving and the best of husbands.” But it seems probable that the Italian, in his estimate of the best of husbands, adopted the liberal standard of his own country.[125]

[Sidenote: PHILIP'S INFLUENCE.]

About the middle of November, parliament was advised that the queen was in a state of pregnancy. The intelligence was received with the joy usually manifested by loyal subjects on like occasions. The emperor seems to have been particularly pleased with this prospect of an heir, who, by the terms of the marriage treaty, would make a division of that great empire which it had been the object of its master's life to build up and consolidate under one sceptre. The commons, soon after, pa.s.sed an act empowering Philip, in case it should go otherwise than well with the queen at the time of her confinement, to a.s.sume the regency, and take charge of the education of her child during its minority. The regency was to be limited by the provisions of the marriage treaty. But the act may be deemed evidence that Philip had gained on the confidence of his new subjects.

The symptoms continued to be favorable; and, as the time approached for Mary's confinement, messengers were held in readiness to bear the tidings to the different courts. The loyal wishes of the people ran so far ahead of reality, that the rumor went abroad of the actual birth of a prince. Bells were rung, bonfires lighted; _Te Deum_ was sung in some of the churches; and one of the preachers ”took upon him to describe the proportions of the child, how fair, how beautiful and great a prince it was, as the like had not been seen!” ”But for all this great labor,”

says the caustic chronicler, ”for their yoong maister long looked for coming so surely into the world, in the end appeared neither yoong maister nor yoong maistress, that any man to this day can hear of.”[126]

The queen's disorder proved to be a dropsy. But, notwithstanding the mortifying results of so many prognostics and preparations, and the ridicule which attached to it, Mary still cherished the illusion of one day giving an heir to the crown. Her husband did not share in this illusion; and, as he became convinced that she had no longer prospect of issue, he found less inducement to protract his residence in a country which, on many accounts, was most distasteful to him. Whatever show of deference might be paid to him, his haughty spirit could not be pleased by the subordinate part which he was compelled to play, in public, to the queen. The parliament had never so far acceded to Mary's wishes as to consent to his coronation as king of England. Whatever weight he may have had in the cabinet, it had not been such as to enable him to make the politics of England subservient to his own interests, or, what was the same thing, to those of his father. Parliament would not consent to swerve so far from the express provisions of the marriage treaty as to become a party in the emperor's contest with France.[127]

Nor could the restraint constantly imposed on Philip, by his desire to accommodate himself to the tastes and habits of the English, be otherwise than irksome to him. If he had been more successful in this than might have been expected, yet it was not possible to overcome the prejudices, the settled antipathy, with which the Spaniards were regarded by the great ma.s.s of the people, as was evident from the satirical shafts, which, from time to time, were launched by pamphleteers and ballad-makers, both against the king and his followers.

These latter were even more impatient than their master of their stay in a country where they met with so many subjects of annoyance. If a Spaniard bought anything, complains one of the nation, he was sure to be charged an exorbitant price for it.[128] If he had a quarrel with an Englishman, says another writer, he was to be tried by English law, and was very certain to come off the worst.[129] Whether right or wrong, the Spaniards could hardly fail to find abundant cause of irritation and disgust. The two nations were too dissimilar for either of them to comprehend the other. It was with no little satisfaction, therefore, that Philip's followers learned that their master had received a summons from his father to leave England, and join him in Flanders.

The cause of this sudden movement was one that filled the Castilians, as it did all Europe, with astonishment,--the proposed abdication of Charles the Fifth. It was one that might seem to admit of neither doubt nor delay on Philip's part. But Mary, distressed by the prospect of separation, prevailed on her husband to postpone his departure for several weeks. She yielded, at length, to the necessity of the case.