History of the Reign of Philip the Second, King of Spain Part 51 (1/2)
[Sidenote: HER OBSEQUIES.]
”She then listened to the exhortations of her confessor, remaining in full possession of her consciousness, till a few minutes before her death. A slight restlessness seemed to come over her, which soon subsided, and she expired so tranquilly that it was impossible to fix the moment when she gave up the ghost. Yet she opened her eyes once, bright and glancing, and it seemed as if she would address me some further commands,--at least, her looks were fixed on me.”[1565]
Not long before Isabella's death, she was delivered of a daughter. Its birth was premature, and it lived only to be baptized. The infant was laid in the same coffin with its mother; and, that very evening, their remains were borne in solemn procession to the royal chapel.[1566] The tolling of the bells in the churches and monasteries throughout the city announced the sad tidings to the people, who filled the air with their cries, making everywhere the most pa.s.sionate demonstrations of grief;[1567] for the queen, says Brantome, ”was regarded by them not merely with feelings of reverence, but of idolatry.”[1568]
In the chapel were gathered together whatever was ill.u.s.trious in the capital,--the high ecclesiastics, and the different religious bodies, the grandees and cavaliers of the court, and the queen's ladies of honor. At the head of these stood the d.u.c.h.ess of Alva, the mistress of the robes, with the d.u.c.h.ess of Feria--an English lady, married to the Spanish amba.s.sador at the court of Mary Tudor--and the princess of Eboli, a name noted in history. The coffin of the deceased queen, covered with its gorgeous pall of brocade, was placed on a scaffold shrouded in black, and surrounded with numerous silver sconces bearing wax tapers, that shed a gloomy l.u.s.tre over the scene.[1569] The services were performed amidst the deepest stillness of the audience, unless when broken by the wailings of the women, which mingled in sad harmony with the chant of the priests and the sweet and solemn music that accompanied the office for the dead.[1570]
Early on the following morning the coffin was opened in presence of the d.u.c.h.ess of Alva and the weeping ladies of her train, who gazed for the last time on features still beautiful in death.[1571] The d.u.c.h.ess then filled the coffin with flowers and sweet-scented herbs; and the remains of mother and child were transported by the same sorrowing company to the convent of the barefooted Carmelites. Here they reposed till the year 1573, when they were borne, with the remains of Carlos, to the stately mausoleum of the Escorial; and the populace, as they gazed on the funeral train, invoked the name of Isabella as that of a saint.[1572]
In the course of the winter, Cardinal Guise arrived from France with letters of condolence from Charles the Ninth to his royal brother-in-law. The instructions to the cardinal do not infer any distrust, on the part of the French monarch, as to the manner of his sister's death. The more suspicious temper of the queen-mother, Catherine de Medicis, is seen in her directions to Fourquevaulx to find out what was said on the subject of her daughter's death, and to report it to her.[1573]--It does not seem that the amba.s.sador gathered any information of consequence, to add to his former details.
Philip himself may have had in his mind the possible existence of such suspicions, when he told the cardinal that ”his best consolation for his loss was derived from his reflection on the simple and excellent life of the queen. All her attendants, her ladies and maids, knew how well he had treated her, as was sufficiently proved by the extraordinary sorrow which he felt at her death. Hereupon,” continues the cardinal, ”he broke forth into a panegyric on her virtues, and said, were he to choose again, he could wish nothing better than to find just such another.”[1574]--It was not long before Philip made the attempt. In eighteen months from the date of his conversation with the cardinal, the thrice-widowed husband led to the altar his fourth and last wife, Anne of Austria,--like her predecessor, as we have seen, the destined bride of his son. The facility with which her imperial parents trusted the young princess to the protection of Philip maybe thought to intimate pretty clearly that they, at least, had no misgivings as to the king's treatment of his former wife.
Isabella, at her decease, was but twenty-three years of age, eight of which she had been seated on the throne of Spain. She left two children, both daughters;--Catherine, afterwards married to the duke of Savoy; and Clara Eugenia, who became with her husband, the Archduke Albert, joint ruler of the Netherlands, and who seems to have enjoyed a greater share of both the love and the confidence of Philip, than he ever vouchsafed to any other being.
Such is the story of Queen Isabella, stripped of the coloring of romance, for which, in truth, it has been quite as much indebted to the pen of the historian as to that of the poet. From the whole account, it appears, that, if Carlos, at any time, indulged a criminal pa.s.sion for his step-mother, such a pa.s.sion was never requited or encouraged by Isabella, who seems to have felt for him only the sentiments that were justified by their connection, and by the appeal which his misfortunes made to her sympathy. Notwithstanding some feelings of resentment, not unnatural, when, in the words of Brantome, ”he had been defrauded of so fair a prize,” there is yet little evidence that the prince's pa.s.sion for her rose higher than the sentiments of love and grat.i.tude which her kindness might well have awakened in an affectionate nature.[1575] And that such, with all his errors, was the nature Carlos, is shown, among other examples, by his steady attachment to Don John of Austria, his uncle, and by his devotion to his early preceptor, the bishop of Osma.
[Sidenote: HER CHARACTER.]
There is no proof that Philip was, at any time, displeased with the conduct of his queen, or that he regarded his son in the light of a rival. Least of all is there anything in the history of the time to show that he sacrificed his wife to his jealousy.[1576] The contrary is well established by those of her own countrymen who had free access to her during her lifetime,--some of them in the hour of her death,--whose correspondence with her family would not have failed to intimate their suspicions, had there been anything to suspect.
Well would it be for the memory of Philip the Second, could the historian find no heavier sin to lay to his charge than his treatment of Isabella. From first to last, he seems to have regarded her with the indulgence of an affectionate husband. Whether she ever obtained such an ascendancy over his close and cautious nature as to be allowed to share in his confidence and his counsels, may well be doubted. Her temper would seem to have been too gentle, too devoid of worldly ambition, to prompt her to meddle with affairs for which she was fitted neither by nature nor education. Yet Brantome a.s.sures us, that she exercised a most salutary influence over her lord in his relations with France, and that the value of this influence was appreciated in later times, when the growing misunderstandings between the two courts were left to rankle, without any friendly hand to heal them.[1577] ”Her death,” he continues, ”was as bitter to her own nation as it was to the Spaniards; and if the latter called her 'the Queen of Peace and Goodness,' the former with no less reason styled her 'the Olive-branch.'”[1578] ”But she has pa.s.sed away,” he exclaims, ”in the sweet and pleasant April of her age,--when her beauty was such that it seemed as if it might almost defy the a.s.saults of time.”[1579]
The queen occupies an important place in that rich gallery of portraits in which Brantome has endeavored to perpetuate the features of his contemporaries. In no one of them has he traced the lineaments with a more tender and delicate hand. Even the breath of scandal has had no power to dim the purity of their expression. Of all that ill.u.s.trious company which the artist has brought in review before the eyes of posterity, there is no one to whom he has so truly rendered the homage of the heart, as to Elizabeth of France.
But from these scenes of domestic sorrow, it is time that we should turn to others of a more stirring and adventurous character.
END OF VOLS. I. AND II.
LONDON C. WHITING, BEAUFORT-HOUSE, DUKE-STREET, LINCOLN'S-INN-FIELDS.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] It is gratifying to learn that before long such a history may be expected,--if, indeed, it should not appear before the publication of this work,--from the pen of our accomplished countryman, Mr. J. Lothrop Motley, who, during the last few years, for the better prosecution of his labors, has established his residence in the neighborhood of the scenes of his narrative. No one acquainted with the fine powers of mind possessed by this scholar, and the earnestness with which he has devoted himself to his task, can doubt that he will do full justice to his important, but difficult subject.
[2] ”Post annum aetatis quinquagesimum, prement.i.tras morbis, tantopere negotiorum odium cepit, ut diutius interdum nec se adiri aut conveniri praeterquam ab intimis pateretur, nec libellis subscribere animum induceret, _non sine suspicione mentis imminutae_; itaque constat novem mensibus nulli nec libello nec diplomati subscripsisse, quod c.u.m magno incommodo reipublicae populariumque dispendio fiebat, c.u.m a tot nationibus, et quibusdam longissime jus inde poteretur, et certe summa negotia ad ipsum fere rejicerentur.” (Sepulvedae Opera, (Matriti, 1780,) vol. II. p. 539.) The author, who was in the court at the time, had frequent access to the royal presence, and speaks, therefore, from personal observation.
[3] A minute account of this imposing ceremony is to be found in a MS.
in the Archives of Simancas, now published in the Coleccion de Doc.u.mentos Ineditos para la Historia de Espana, (Madrid, 1845,) tom.
VII. p. 534 et seq.
An official report of these proceedings, prepared by order of the government, and preserved at Brussels, in the Archives du Royaume, has been published by M. Gachard in his valuable collection, a.n.a.lectes Belgiques, (Paris, 1830,) pp. 75-81.
[4] A copy of the original deed of abdication was preserved among the papers of Cardinal Granvelle, at Besancon, and is incorporated in the valuable collection of doc.u.ments published by order of the French government under the direction of the learned Weiss, Papiers d'Etat du Cardinal de Granvelle, d'apres les Ma.n.u.scrits de la Bibliotheque de Besancon, (Paris, 1843,) tom. IV. p. 486.
[5] It is strange that the precise date of an event of such notoriety as the abdication of Charles the Fifth should be a matter of discrepancy among historians. Most writers of the time a.s.sign the date mentioned in the text, confirmed moreover by the Simancas MS. above cited, the author of which enters into the details of the ceremony with the minuteness of an eye-witness.
[6] ”Erat Carolus statura mediocri, sed brachiis et cruribus cra.s.sis compactisque, et roboris singularis, ceteris membris proportione magnoque commensu respondentibus, colore albus, crine barbaque ad flavum inclinante; facie liberali, nisi quod mentum prominens et parum cohaerentia labra nonnihil eam deturpabant.” Sepulvedae Opera, vol. II. p.
527.