Now Ready.
HISTORY OF LOUISIANA.
BY
CHARLES GAYARRE,
AUTHOR OF "PHILIP II. OF SPAIN," ETC., ETC.
Complete in 3 vols. 8vo, bringing the Narrative to the
year 1861.
VOL. 1.-THE FRENCH DOMINATION.
VOL. 2.-THE SPANISH DOMINATION.
VOL. 3.-THE AMERICAN DOMINATION.
Each volume complete in itself, price $4.
"The narrative in Mr. GAYARRE'S hands is always pleasing, and the facts are always of
value. Well acquainted with affairs of state by personal experience, he knows what is of
importance in the materials for history. Of his faithfulness we may be content with the
testimony of BANCROFT, who frequently quotes his books as of authority, and in the sixth
volume of his'History of the United States,' remarks:'There is little need of looking
beyond GAYARRb, who rests his narrative on authentic documents.' " —orth American
Review, Art. " Gayarr6's History of Louisiana."
New York: W. J. WIDDLETON, 17 Mercer Street.












!!i'~,~~"          "                                 ~'~..




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.'  
BY
CHARLES GAYARRE,
AUTHOR OF "THE HISTORY OF LOUISIANA UNDER THE FRENCH, SPANISH, AND
AMERICAN DOMINATION," ETC., ETC.
WITH AN INTRODUCTORY LETTER
BY
GEORGE BANCROFT.
NEW  YORK:
W. J. WIDDLETON, PUBLISHER.
1866.




Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1866,
BY CHARLES GAYARRiE,
In the Clerk's office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern
District of New York.
NEW YORK:
EDWARD O. JENKINS, PRINTER,
20 NORTH WILLIAM ST,




PREFATORY NOTE.
IN the following work it has been the Author's
intention, as the most general glance over its pages
will discover to the reader, not to present a minute
chronicle in regular narrative of the events of
Philip's reign, but in a certain wav a philosophical
retrospect of what was most memorable in Spain
during that period as it was shaped by the controlling mind at the head of affairs-such a deduction,
in fact, as the modern student must needs draw for
himself after he has exhausted the materials of
that busy and important era. The book may, therefore, be regarded as an historical essay in its exhibition of results, while it really conveys to the reader the most noticeable facts upon which the various
conclusions are established. The striking events
both in the domestic and foreign policy of the reign
are passed in review, while the constant working
of Philip's irrepressible nature and activity are not
for a moment lost sight of in his personal history.
The work thus partakes of a biographical and historical interest, in which the former, perhaps, preponderates without injury to the latter.








INTRODUCTORY  LETTER.
NEW YORK, November 17, 1866.
MY DEAR SIR,-Accept my thanks for giving
me an opportunity of perusing the work of Mr.
Gayarre on Philip the Second of Spain in advance. I am very glad that he has found a publisher in New York.  We need a unity in the
commonwealth of letters as well as in the commonwealth of States, and the development of
the national mind would be imperfect if each
part of the country did not contribute its stream
to the great river of public opinion.  Our
literature, like our political life, should develop
unity in diversity, and the more the minds of
men in one part of the country are brought
closely alongside the minds of men of other
parts, the better will it be for national culture.
Boston publishers recently brought out a new
volume of Rives's Life of Madison, and it is
the most valuable contribution of the last
winter to the history of the American Consti



ii          INTRODUCTORY LETTER.
tution and Union.  It supplies a want which
has been very much felt. It traces the history
of the Constitution fron the point of view of
the great statesmen of Virginia who took part
in that immortal work. There are some things
in the volume to which objections may lie; all
analogies drawn from the Greek republics and
applied to ours, are founded upon erroneous
notions; for the Greek Republic and ours are
as unlike as possible, the Greek republic being
an absolute government and ours a limited
government -  the Greek republic asserting
despotic  authority for the State, and ours
beginning by the assertion of the inalienable rights of individual man.  I mention this
in particular, because the inferences drawn
from ancient examples and applied to our time
have been as disastrous in their consequences
as they have been wrong in their principle.
Nor do I accept the statements of the distinguished author about republicanism  and democracy.  But differences of opinion and discussion lead to good, and it is no more than
justice to say that Mr. Rives has treated his
subject in a spirit of candor and impartiality.
One of my friends on finishing the volume said
to me that it had for him all the interest of a




INTRODUCTORY LETTER.          iii
novel.  It may certainly lay claim to be considered as one of the fairest and most complete
histories, perhaps it can more justly be said
that it is the best history, of the formation of
the federal Constitution.
Mr. Gayarre has claims upon us of old.  He
is.the author of a history of Louisiana which is
the fruit of thorough research and takes a very
high rank among the best histories of the
several states.  His present work is written
with care and vivacity; with a mind superior
to the influences of superstition, and comprehensive in its study of the causes and consequences of events. He has a quick eye for the
picturesque, and a rapid movement in his narrative which, if sometimes too highly ornamented, is never languid; and he clearly portrays the social and political tendencies of the
reign which he describes. The subject at the
first blush might seem  to be remote from our
present interests, but it is not so.  Spanish
America from the mouth of the Colorado to the
extreme South still languishes from  the attempt continued through centuries to connect
government and  civil prosperity with the
Church policy of Charles the Fifth and Philip
the Second.  So the volume of Mr. Gayarr6,




iv          INTRODUCTORY LETTER.
like that of Mr. Rives, has an important connection with the great questions which the
mind of America is now engaged in solving.
Both of them  are indirectly the highest tributes to the incomparable excellency of our institutions, and are the most earnest admonitions in favor of their perpetuity. The lessons
come with particular value and distinctness
from Mr. Gayarre as he is of Spanish descent
and is wholly free from even the suspicion of
a bias unfavorable to Spain.
I hope in your career as a publisher you will
go on as you have begun, introducing to the
public the works of men fiom all parts of our
great continental country; it is the only way
to build up a truly national literature.
Respectfully yours,
GEORGE BANCROFT.
W. J. WIDDLETTON, ESQ.




CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Philip's last Illness — He is transported to the Escorial — Circumstances attending his Death -Wonderful sufferings and fortitude
of that Prince - His Christian resignation and absence of remorse
-His probable conviction of acting correctly, when committing
crimes - An awful honesty of purpose in his villainy - Description
of his character, and of his physical, intellectual and moral attributes -A parallel between Philip and Charles V. -He is inferior
as a statesman to Cardinal Ximenes, to his ancestor Ferdinand and
to Richelieu-His unbending religious fanaticismV-His exalted
ideas of the sanctity of Royalty - His systematic destruction of the
Liberties of Spain - His Machiavelian policy - His despotism illustrated by this laconic dispatch: "Arrest Lanuza and promptly
cut off his head."...       1
CHAPTER II.
Suppression of Heresy the grand object of Philip's life-His religious fanaticism working for the aggrandizement of his temporal
power-He aims at the Unity of Religious Creed to arrive at the
Unity of Political Authority —Dealings of Philip with the Supreme Pontiff-He Lectures the Pope with the severity of Luther
- Council of Trent - Philip venerates and strangles Monks - The
Spanish Clergy well bridled - Religious communities not to be increased - Letter of advice from Charles to Philip - The Inquisition a mere tool in the King's hands -Battles of St. Quentin and
Gravelines - War with the Pope - Philip's Policy with his Ministers and Servants — Don Carlos —Don John of Austria   The
Prince of Orange — Philip affects Mystery in all his Acts — His
fatal habits of Procrastination - The Escorial - Reflections on that
Monument.........         30
CHAPTER III.
Philip's Love for Literature, the Sciences and the Fine Arts —The
peculiar way in which he patronized them —Philip's personPhilip in youth and manhood —His early training to Business(v)




Vi                         CONTENTS.
His wonderful aptitude for Labor-Political instructions from
Charles to Philip — Vhilip's moral and intellectual education - His
four wives —His favorite Ministers, the Duke of Alva, and the
Prince of Eboli - His magnificent household - Philip and his domestics -His chilling demeanor - The Pope's Nuncio put out of
countenance - Philip's habits and amusements - Complaints of
the Cortes about his deportment - Popularity of Philip's memory
in Spain — Reasons for it -Comparison between Philip and his
Royal Contemporaries - Condition of Spain when Charles ascended
the Throne — What he should have done —Consequences of his
Reign........66
CHAPTER IV.
Immense possessions and power bequeathed to Philip - He gloriously inaugurates his accession to the Throne - Secret reason of his
forbearance after the Battle of St. Quentin -He plans the St. Bartholomew-Alva at the gates of Rome- Magnanimous treatment,
of the Pope by Philip - Advantageous Treaty of Peace with France
after the Battle of Gravelines - What did Philip accomplish with
his vast means? - The useless Victory of Lepanto - Loss of Tunis
and of the Goleta - Review of Philip's policy and of its consequences - Revolt of the Low Countries - Philip's internal Administration-Its disastrous effects —Forced loans and other iniquitous
measures - Rem9nstrances of the Cortes - Manner in which they
are received — 1ierce religious persecution - Philip's precautionary measures against the introduction of new doctrines and ideas,
into Spain — Spaniards forbidden to study or teach out of Spain 
Petitions of the Cortes on various subjects - Financial measuresPhilip's want of economy - Madrid chosen as the Capital of Spain
-War with the Moors of Granada-Their treatment by PhilipImpoverishment of Spain.........103
CHAPTER V.
Antonio Perez, the celebrated Minister of Philip -His characterThe Princess of Eboli -Relations between Perez and the Princess
- Escovedo, the Secretary of Don John of Austria - He is murdered  Arrest of Perez and of the Princess of Eboli  Escovedo's son
accuses Perez and the Princess of the murder of his FatherHaughty letter from the Princess to Philip - Unaccountable conduct of Philip on this occasion —He seems in turn to urge and
stop the prosecution-Interesting details of this long and extraordinary trial - Crimes for which Perez was condemned in Madrid to fine, imprisonment and exile from Court - Nothing about Escovedo's murder — Philip's visit to Aragon —Prosecution against




CONTENTS.                            Vii
Perez revived in that Kingdom for the murder of Escovedo -- Incarceration of the wife and sons of Perez- Certain State Papers
surrendered to Philip by the wife of Perez - She is released with
her sons - Strange confession made by Philip about the murder of
Escovedo - Perez is put to the torture -Perez flies to Aragon, of
which he is a native, and claims for his protection the franchises
and privileges of that Kingdom - He is claimed by the Inquisition
The Aragonese refuse to deliver him up - He is seized by the
Inquisition in Saragoza —The people rise and compel the Inquisition to give up their prisoner - Perez again retaken by the Inquisition -Another explosion of the people- The Viceroy and other
authorities driven out of Saragoza - Perez flies to France - Incidents of his flight - Reflections on the Franchises of Aragon.. 145
CHAPTER VI.
Philip avails himself of the riots in Saragoza to destroy the Liberties
of Aragon - March of a Castilian Army under Vargas - Deceitful
promises of Vargas and Philip  Vargas enters Saragoza —Tranquillity restored - Arrest of Lanuza, of the Duke of Villahermosa,
of the Count of Aranda and other illustrious personages- The
reign of terror in Saragoza - Lanuza is beheaded - Villahermosa
and Aranda die in Prison- Numberless executions- The Scaffold
reeking with blood in Saragoza and other places- A grim joke --
The hangman hung by his own aids - Destruction of the franchises of Aragon -Perez re-enters Spain with an armed force - His
defeat - His second flight to France - He is received and patronized by Henry IV. -His repeated escapes from assassinationHis subsequent career-His death   Wonderful friendship and
sacrifices of Gil de La Mesa for Perez - Gabriel de Espinosa, the
pastry-cook of Madrigal - He passes himself off for Don Sebastian,
the late King of Portugal - He is affianced to a Nun, daughter of
Don John of Austria- His trial and execution..     198
CHAPTER VII.
The Cortes -They are gradually deprived of their ancient attributes
and privileges - Taxation and Tributes - Ecclesiastical tithes ~l
Administration of justice -Proposed internal improvements - Political economy - Abuses of the Royal power - Violations of the
privileges of cities, towns and corporations - Immorality of the
Clergy   Attempted reforms — Regulations about prostitutes 
Medicine and Surgery - Naturalization - Breed of Horses - Remonstrances of the Cortes against the bribing of their members by
the King - Unproductive accumulation of wealth in Monasteries -
Curious sumptuary laws - The use of coaches denounced by the




Viii                       CONTENTS.
Cortes - Universities and public education - Taxes not to be levied
except granted by the people - Bull-fights considered a useful institution - The clergy getting possession of all the lands of the
Kingdom -Philip opposed to any innovation.... 239
CHAPTER VIII.
Topeless impoverishment of Spain - The King an incorrigible spendthrift - Injudicious financial measures - Violations of contractsThe creditors of the State defrauded - Repudiation and its consequences -Beginning of a statistical, historical and geographical
work on Spain by Royal authority - It is abandoned- The Escorial in its economical, artistic, political and religious points of view
It exhausts the resources of Spain -Views of the Cortes about
the establishment of public granaries and other administrative
measures-The military, and their outrages against citizens —
Sales by the Crown of towns, villages, regiments, titles of nobility
and vassals  Philip's systematic disregard of the wishes of the
Cortes - Their interminable sessions - Decrees against tailors and
dressmakers -The use of masks prohibited - Foreign peddlers denounced-Remonstrances of the Cortes on many subjects- They
are unnoticed by the King - The Cortes reduced to a nullity - complete annihilation of the liberties of Spain..... 267
CHAPTER IX.
The intellectual condition of Spain - Political retrospect -An era of
war, romance and poetry - The Kingdoms of Aragon and Castile -
Ferdinand and Isabella - Government of the Queen - Conquest of
Granada - Discovery of America -Consequences of those events -
Influence of Italy on Spanish art and literature in the reign of
Charles V. -Native productions.. 303
CHAPTER X.
Literature, the arts and sciences in the reign of Philip -A critical examination of the works of the most distinguished men in Spain at
that epoch - Lyrical poetry - Father Luis de Leon, Fernando de
Herrera and others- Epic poetry-Ercilla, &c.- The DramaLope de Vega, &c. - Novels - The Vagabond style -Hurtado de
Mendoza -Lazarillo de Tormes - Cervantes - Don Quixote -Historical compositions - Marianna, &c. - Pulpit eloquence - Montano's Polyglot Bible - General considerations - Conclusion... 329




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
CHAPTER I.
IT is impossible for one who knows anything of
the life of Philip the Second, king of Spain, not to
feel a strong curiosity to be truthfully informed how
such a man died. Was there aught in the circumstances of his death which we may seize upon as a
revelation throwing light on his dark and mysterious
character? He of the iron will; he whose word,
or sign-manual, had prematurely sent out of this
world so many of his fellow-beings, how did he
demean himself when tortures, a hundred-fold more
terrible than any he had inflicted, racked his body
for months, and when he found himself in the presence of a master and conqueror far more inexorable than he himself had been to any of his subjects
or enemies? Prescott has left unfinished the history of the stern son of Charles the Fifth, and, to
gratify a cherished companion of our solitude, who
has lately been perusing with so much delight his
immortal pages, and who has found in them a diversion from the pressure of daily anxieties, and from
the apprehensions of impending dangers amidst the
clash of arms, it is our purpose to penetrate into
(1)




2             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
the Escorial, and to show Philip closing his earthly
career. After depositing him in the tomb prepared
by his pride, we shall condense, in a rapid review,
the appreciation of the character and reign of one
who presents so grand, so deep, so varied and so
dramatic a subject to the study of the historian, the
philosopher and the poet.
When the news spread that the monarch who
had been surnamed the "Demon of the South" had
retired, in his old age, from his capital, to pass his
last fugitive days and expire, like his father, amidst
Hyronimite Monks, in that gigantic architectural
structure which he had been thirty-two years in
erecting, and in which he had united a palace, a
monastery and a mausoleum, the world, which he
had so long agitated, drew a long breath and hoped
for rest. Philip had been suffering from the gout
for twenty years, and at last that disease had acquired an intolerable degree of intensity. During
the two years which preceded his death, it had
become complicated with a hectical fever, which had
so completely exhausted his strength, that he had to
be carried about in an arm-chair. That fever produced the dropsy; it tortured him with an unextinguishable thirst, which it was fatal to indulge, and
which, to resist, was one of the torments attributed
by the imagination to the reprobates of divine justice in the regions of eternal punishment. Eighteen
months before he closed his eyes forever, the
malignity of the humors into which his whole body




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            3
seemed to be transforming itself, had produced sores
in his right hand and foot, which gave him the most
intense pains, particularly when coming into contact
with the sheets of his bed.
It was in this condition that he had been transported to the Escorial, where had just arrived in
great pomp, and been received with all the solemn
ceremonies of the Catholic Church, a precious collection of sacred relics which he had procured from
Germany, through the exertions of a Commission
which had been sent to that country for that special
purpose.  On hearing of this religious festival, the
infirm monarch seemed to revive, and, notwithstanding the advice of his physicians and the remonstrances of the members of his Council, insisted on his
being taken to his favorite residence.  "I wish," he
said, "to be carried alive to the place of my sepulchre."  It was impossible to disobey, and a chair
was constructed in which he could almost lie down
as if in bed. It was thus that he left Madrid on the
30th of June, 1598. The slightest jolt produced in
the royal patient the most acute pains; the men,
who carried him on their shoulders, had to walk
with much precaution, and with such slow and measured steps, that the dismal procession was six days
in traversing the twenty-four miles which separate
the Escorial from  Madrid.  At the sight of the
austere-looking building, for which he had always
entertained the fondest predilection, Philip seemed
to rally his spirits and to recover some bodily




4             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
strength. He was received with the accustomed
honors by the monks whom  he had established
there, and, on the next day, he was carried to the
church, where he remained a long time in prayer.
Afterward, and  for  several  succeeding  days,
stretched in his arm-chair, and almost as motionless
as a corpse, he was present at the ceremony of depositing the German relics in their destined places at
the different altars of the church. Still upheld in
his chair by the strong arms of his attendants, he
visited the libraries, which were in the first and
second stories of the edifice, and minutely inspected
the vast pile in all its departments, examining all
the objects of interest which it contained, like one
who enjoyed the completion of his great work and
wished to take final leave of all its magnificence.
But his fever increased, and assumed an intermittent character. The patient, with the complication of diseases under which he was sinking, became so weak that his physicians were much alarmed.
It was a tertian fever, and although it was with
much difficulty stopped for some time, it returned
with more violence, with daily attacks, and within
shortening intervals. At the end of a week, a malignant tumor manifested itself in his right knee,
increased prodigiously, and produced the most intense pain. As the last resort, when  all other
modes of relief had been exhausted, the physicians
resolved to open the tumor; and, as it was feared
that the patient, from his debility, would not be able




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            5
to bear the operation, the physicians, with much
precaution, communicated to him their apprehensions. He received this information with great fortitude, and prepared himself by a general confession
for what might happen. He caused some relics to
be brought to him, and, after having adored and
kissed them with much devotion, he put his body
at the disposal of his medical attendants.  The
operation was performed by the skillful surgeon,
Juan de Vergara; it was a very painful one, and
all those who were present were amazed at the
patience and courage exhibited by Philip.
His condition, however, did not improve. The
hand of God was upon him who had caused so many
tears to be shed during his long life, and no human
skill could avail when divine justice seemed bent
to enforce its decree of retribution. Above the
gash which the operator's knife had made, two large
sores appeared, and from their hideous and ghastly
lips there issued such a quantity of matter as hardly
seems credible. To the consuming heat of fever, to
the burning thirst of dropsy, were added the corroding itch of ulcers and the infection of the inexhaustible streams of putrid matter which gushed
from  his flesh. The stench around the powerful
sovereign of Spain and the Indies was such as to be
insupportable to the by-standers. Immersed in this
filth, the body of the patient was so sore that it
could be turned neither to the right nor to the left,
and it was impossible to change his clothes or his




6             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
bedding.  So sensitive had he become, that the
slightest touch produced the most intolerable agony;
and the haughty ruler of millions of men remained
helplessly stretched in a sty, and in a more pitiable
condition than that of the most ragged beggar in
his vast dominions. But his fortitude was greater
than his sufferings; not a word of complaint was
heard to escape from his lips; and the soul remained
unsubdued by these terrible infirmities of the flesh.
He had been thirty-five days embedded in this sink
of corruption, when, in consequence of it, his whole
back became but one sore from his neck downward;
so that, of him it might have been said with singular appropriateness of scriptural language, "that
Satan had smote him with sore boils from the sole of
his foot unto his crown," if, indeed, the prince of
darkness could have been supposed to be so harsh
toward one of whom he certainly had no cause to
complain. On this occasion, it rather looked like
the smiting of God.
It seemed scarcely possible to increase the afflictions of Philip, when a chicken broth sweetened with
sugar, which was administered to him, gave rise to
other accidents which added to the fetidness of his
apartment, and which are represented, besides, as being of an extraordinary and horrible character. He
became sleepless, with occasional short fits of lethargy; and, as it were to complete this spectacle of human misery and degradation, the ulcers teemed with
a prodigious quantity of worms, which reproduced




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            7
themselves with such prolific abundance, that they
defied all attempts to remove their indestructible
swarms. In this condition he remained fifty-three
days, without taking anything which could satisfactorily explain the prolongation of his existence.
To some it seemed a miracle, but it certainly was a
great lesson to the sufferer and to the world; for
this man had been for nearly half a century called
"majesty;" he had been considered as a thing
august and sacred, as the representative of God on
earth; so much so, that, being accidentally struck,
when a boy, by one of his youthful companions, the
unintentional offender was doomed to death, although
the decree, through the entreaties of Philip himself
to his father the Emperor, was not carried into execution. God was now showing to what a degree
of abjection He could bring the haughty and sinful
being who had always been above all human laws,
and whom it had almost been a sacrilege to offend.
So, at least, thought the folly of man.
In the midst of these excruciating sufferings, his
whole body being but one leprous sore, his emaciation being such that his bones threatened to pierce
through his skin, Philip maintained unimpaired the
serenity of his mind and the wonderful fortitude
which he had hitherto displayed. To religion alone,
or what to him was religion, he looked for consolation. The walls of the small apartment in which he
lay were covered with crucifixes, relics, and images
of saints. From time to time he would call for one




8             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
of them  and apply it to his burning lips, or to one
of his sores, with the utmost fervor and faith. In
these days of trial, he made many pious donations,
and appropriated large sums to the dotation of
establishments for the relief of widows and orphans,
and to the foundation of hospitals and sanctuaries.
It is strange that, in the condition in which we have
represented him to be, he could turn his attention to
temporal affairs, and had sufficient strength of mind
to dictate to his minister and confidential secretary,
Cristoval de Mora, some of his views and intentions
for the conduct of the government; or rather, it was
not strange; for it was the ruling passion, strong
in death. In old age and amidst such torments
as appalled the world, Philip displayed the same
tenacity of purpose and love of power which had
characterized him, when flushed with the aspirations
of youth and health, and subsequently when glorying
in the strength and experience of manhood.
But the last act of the drama was to be performed, and the monarch felt that he must quit the stage
where he had long acted so conspicuous a part. He
begged the Nuncio of his Holiness to bestow upon
him apostolic benediction in the name of the Supreme Pontiff. The request was granted, and a
special messenger whom the Nuncio sent to Rome
with information of what he had done, brought back
the confirmation of the Pope before Philip had died.
He next required, with a voice which was every
moment becoming more feeble, the administration




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            9
of the extreme unction, the ceremonial text of which
he had previously desired his confessor to read to
him from the Roman ritual. He sent for his son, the
hereditary prince, that he might be present at this
solemn religious act.  The extreme unction was
administered to him by the Archbishop of Toledo;
on which occasion he said to his future successor:
" I wished you, my son, to be present, that you
might see in what way end all things in this world."
After having given the prince much wholesome
advice as to religion and the principles of good government, he dismissed him, much moved by a scene
so full of tender and sad impressions. From  that
day the dying monarch gave up all thoughts of temporal affairs, to devote himself entirely to the salvation of his soul by preparing for a Christian death.
He caused the coffin of the emperor, his father, to
be opened, and the body to be examined, in order
that his own should be dressed for its sepulture after
the same fashion. He ordered two wax candles
which his father had used in his last moments to be
brought to him, and also the crucifix which Charles
had held in his hands when expiring.' He further
requested that the crucifix be suspended to the curtains of his couch, in front of him, so that his eyes
might rest on the image of the Comforter and Saviour.
He had his coffin placed alongside of his bed, and
directed that, before being deposited in it, his corpse
be incased in a leaden box, as he well knew the state
of putrefaction to which he had been doomed before




10            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
death.  These commands were issued with the
utmost self-possession and the most tranquil precision, amidst agonies which it required superhuman
courage to endure-in an atmosphere so fetid that
it well-nigh stifled the most robust of his attendantswhen rottenness was in the flesh and bones of him
who spoke so calmly, and when myriads of worms
were rioting on his carcass.  At the sight of this
triumph of the soul over perishing matter, admiration seeks to forget deeds, the memory of which
must, however, live as long as the records of history
shall last for the instruction of mankind and the
terror of evil-doers.
On the 11th of September, two days before his
death, he called the hereditary prince, his son, and
the infanta, his daughter, to his bedside. He took
leave of them in the most affectionate manner, and
with a voice scarcely audible from exhaustion, he
exhorted them to persevere in the true faith, and to
conduct themselves with prudence in the government of those States which he would leave to them.
He handed to his confessor the celebrated testamnentary instructions bequeathed by St. Louis of France
to the heir of his crown, and requested the priest to
read them to the prince and princess, to whom he
afterward extended his fleshless and ulcered hand
to be kissed, giving them his blessing, and dismissing them melting into tears. On the next day. the
physicians gave Cristoval de Mora the disagreeable
mission of informing Philip that his last hour was




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           11
rapidly approaching. The dying man received the
information with his usual impassibility.  He devoutly listened to the exhortations of the Archbishop
of Toledo, made his profession of faith, and ordered
that the passion of Christ from the Gospel of John be
read to him. Shortly after, he was seized with such
a fit that he was thought to be dead, and a covering
was thrown over his face.  But he was not long
before coming again to his senses and opening his
eyes. He took the crucifix, kissed it repeatedly,
listened to the prayers for the souls of the departed
which the Prior of the monastery was reading to
him, and with a slight quivering passed away, at five
o'clock in the morning, on the 13th of September,
1598. Philip had lived seventy-one years, three
months and twenty-two days, and reigned forty-two
years. Thus ended the career of this prince, in that
place of retirement and meditation from which, with
one stroke of the pen, he used to send dismay, dark
intrigues, civil commotions, religious perturbations,
and direful wars, into many regions of the Old and
of the New World. Thus lay low and cold the head
which had teemed with so many schemes fatal to
Spain and to other countries. Thus was palsied forever the hand which had so long held the manifold
threads of the complicated politics and interests of
so many empires. The Christian Tiberius was no
more.
What Philip had prescribed to be done with his
corpse was faithfully executed. Don Cristoval de




12            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
Mora and Don Antonio de Toledo were the executors of his will.  The body, after having been
washed  and  cleansed from  the impurities with
which it was coated all over, was dressed in a linen
garment, then wrapped in a modest and common
winding-sheet, and deposited in a lead coffin, with
an humble wooden cross hanging from the neck by
a coarse rope. The monks paid such funeral honors
as were due to the royal founder of their monastery,
and to the liberal protector whom they had lost;
after which the body of Philip the Second was laid
with solemn ceremonies in the vault chosen by himself in the Pantheon which he had erected for the
house of Austria.
No martyr ever died with more fortitude, more
faith, and more religious hope, than Philip the
Second. He seems to have had no remorse for the
deeds he had done, and at the recollection of which
it is hardly possible not to shudder. He was free
from those terrors which haunted Louis the Eleventh
of France, and other tyrants, on their death-bed.
The spectres of Carlos, Orange, Egmont, Horn,
Montigny, and other victims, did not rise, like
Banquo's ghost, to shake their gory locks at the
dying murderer. He expressed, for aught that we
know, no regret, no repentance, no contrition for the
shedding of those streams of human blood in which
he had steeped himself to the lips, nor did he show
the slightest disposition to make reparation to those
whom the world thought he had wronged. He died




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           13
with Christian meekness and serenity, and with his
eyes fixed on the image of that Saviour against whose
precepts his whole life had been a perpetual outrage. Surely, it is a moral phenomenon which
requires explanation-a psychological mystery which
demands a solution. This explanation and solution
can be found only in the hypothesis, it seems to us,
that Philip remained persuaded to the last hour of
his life that he was right when he committed those
acts which struck with horror his contemporaries,
and are still execrated by posterity.' The peculiar
idiosyncrasy of the man, the ethics of the age in
which he lived, the influence of the social and political atmosphere in which he breathed since his infancy, must be taken into consideration to do justice to
his character. In his boyhood, as we have said
before, he had been taught that to strike him, even
involuntarily or accidentally, was a crime deserving
death. He had grown up to consider himself, as
king, the representative of God on earth; his will
was law, and he was subject to none. Bigoted as
he was, he permitted no interference with his authority in temporal affairs, even from the head of
the Catholic Church. He conceived himself to be
as absolute in his dominions, as he acknowledged
the Pope to be in spiritual matters and in such
domains as had been granted to him for the support
of his pontifical dignity.
It is not improbable that Philip conscientiously
believed that any opposition to the king's will, either




14            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
in religion or in matters of State, was the most
heinous offence that could be committed. He was
the temporal vicegerent of the Deity on earth; he
drew his power from that source, and not from man.
Therefore any attempt to restrain that power was a
sacrilege, and death was but the deserved penalty,
which he had the right to inflict, when, where, and
how he pleased, whether by the stroke of the public
executioner, by the secret dagger of the assassin, or
by the slow but sure action of poison. What mattered the mode of death, if death was rightfully at
his command? it was the justice of the king, not
passion, not hatred, not revenge, which had struck
the blow.  He never was carried away by any
sudden impulse; all his acts were the result of long
meditation. He permitted no surprise of his judgment, no lashing of his blood into uncontrolled
storms. The ebullitions of his heart never obscured
with their hot fumes the icy chambers of his head.
He never seemed to be aware of having committed
a crime, and to seek, like many other bigots, to propitiate Heaven's indulgence, or to compromise with
its wrath. He conceived himself to be the champion of royalty and of the Catholic faith; and which
predominated in his mind as to importance may well
remain a question. But both, as he thought, were
necessary to their own reciprocal existence; they
were twin-sisters, bound together by mysterious ligaments which could not be severed without fatal
results to both. His mission was to keep the crown




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           15
as sacred as the tiara; his duty was to protect the
Catholic faith throughout the world; and, the better
to accomplish it, he probably deemed it a holy purpose, not only to preserve intact his hereditary
dominions, but also to extend  his sway as far
as possible for the  destruction of heresy. The
maintenance and extension of his power was but
the maintenance and extension of the true Church,
which had been specially established for the service
and the glory of God.  Hence any word which
he pledged in his worldly wisdom to the enemies of
the Church, and of the monarchy which his person
represented, was null and void, unless it was subservient to the interests of that Church and of that
monarchy. To break his promise under such circumstances was no deceit. To remove out of this
world, by whatever means, any human being whom
he conceived to be dangerous to Church and to royalty, was a meritorious act. This man was as much
a fanatic in his appreciation of his kingly office as
in matters of religion. Hence he, without compunction or hesitation, swept away Egmont, Horn,
Orange, and so many others, like rubbish in the
path of the two cherished objects of his veneration.
Hence he once publicly said that, should his son
be convicted of heresy, he would himself bring
fagots to the burning  pile into which he would
order him to be thrown. We are afraid that there
was a horrible but earnest sincerity in his crimes,
an awful honesty of purpose in his villainy, a




16            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
frightful delusion produced by the sophistry of
iniquity, which assumed in his mind the form of
the logic of rectitude.
These were probably the reasons why he took no
pains to destroy, as he could easily have done, the
proofs of many of his dark deeds. On the contrary,
he seems to have been indifferent on the subject, if
not solicitous about reducing to writing all that was
required to bring them  before posterity in their
true colors, as if he did not care to carry the deception which he practiced beyond the time when it
was necessary for the success of his political purposes. From these circumstances it might be concluded that he considered what he had done as
legitimate and just, or at least as a warrantable
exercise of the attributes of sovereignty. We do
not believe that he was callous to shame and to the
opinion of future ages. He was naturally, it is true,
of a phlegmatic temperament, and he had no more
heart than a marble statue. But if, during his
whole life, he generally abstained from exhibiting
any signs of grief, joy, anger, pity, or attachment,
we do not attribute it altogether to insensibility.
It may also have originated in his conviction that
he was too far exalted above the common race of
mortals to indulge becomingly in such feelings. It
would  have been beneath the dignity and the
heavenly calling of the standard-bearer of the
Church and of the grand apostle and missionary of
royalty. This view of his character is the only one




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            17
which to our conception accounts for the marvelous
placidity and fortitude of his death. The singularity of such a self-deceiving  hallucination is no
argument against the possibility of its existence,
and no refutation of the deductions which we have
drawn. If they are correct, Philip was a, monster,
but a monster unconscious of the whole extent of
his wickedness.
He had begun his reign as the most powerful
sovereign of Europe by the vastness, variety and
wealth of his dominions, as well as by his political
and family connections. His marriage with Mary
of England had given him, through her, considerable influence in that kingdom; and if he had not
inherited the imperial sceptre of his father, he may
have consoled himself with the reflection that it had
fallen into the hands of his uncle, Ferdinand. Philip
had always entertained the most profound veneration and admiration for his father, and felt for him
all the love of which his nature was susceptible.
The reproaches of filial ingratitude addressed to
him by some historians are not correct, and it is
now demonstrated that he seldom ceased to be guided
by the advice of the hermit of Yuste, which he even
frequently sought with due deference. The policy
and designs of Charles were, after his death, fully
adopted and continued by his son, but with such
difference in the ways and means as necessarily
resulted from their opposite characters. Both had
talents of the highest order, a cool judgment, a far2




18             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
reaching perspicacity, and a clear insight into men
and things. Both constituted themselves the representatives of Catholicity and of religious unity.
But here ended the resemblance; if there was
similarity of purpose, there was dissimilitude of
action; and it could not be otherwise.  Charles was
a native of Flanders, where he had been educated.
As such, and in his habits, tastes and predilections,
he was uncongenial to the Spaniards, whose language
he did not even speak.  By them he was looked
upon as a foreigner, to whom, by the accident of
birth, they unfortunately owed allegiance. He, on
the other hand, did not love Spain; like William of
Orange, the Batavian restorer of the liberties of
England in a later age, he never could divest himself of his Dutch partialities; whilst Philip, who
was as intensely Spanish as any of the most idolized
heroes of Castile, where he was born, was disliked
by his Flemish subjects, whose idiom  he did not
even condescend to know; and yet Philip, although
a Spaniard, was as cold-blooded and phlegmatic as
any Fleming, whilst Charles, a Fleming, had all the
vivacity and warm impulses of the Spanish temperament. It had the appearance of a capricious freak
of nature, or it looked as if their cradles had been
accidentally misplaced; perhaps it was providential;
for if Philip had been like Charles, it is probable
that the events which led to the independence of
the Netherlands would not have taken place, at
least under his reign.  Charles would not have




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           19
remained in Spain, like Philip, as motionless as an
incrustation in the Escorial, when threatened with
the loss of those provinces. He would have gone
in person to remove their discontents. He was
free, open, and captivating in his manners; he
adapted himself, when he chose, to localities and
nationalities; he was, as it were, a cosmopolite.
Philip was repulsive, sombre, taciturn, fond of
isolation, and  destitute  of human  sympathies.
Charles was a meteor which warmed the atmosphere through which it winged its course. Philip
was an iceberg which would have congealed even
the gentlest tropical waves. The Emperor was an
ambulatory statesman, who seemed to draw inspiration from the perpetual motion in which he rejoiced;
the King, equally as politic, was a fixture in his own
cabinet, and the sluggishness of his body seemed to
impart more restless activity to his mind. Charles
was indefatigable in all corporal exercises as befitted a fearless knight, a skillful warrior, who delighted in danger and in the clash of arms; Philip,
physically indolent, was so averse to the stern joys
of martial life, that his courage was even suspected.
Charles was ambitious of governing the world, and
would have wished, if possible, to have been present
at the same time in all its parts. He seemed to
have thought that the imperial purple required of
him the ubiquity of God. But if the father held the
sword with the ever-ready hand of a hero, the son,
who never drew one from its scabbard, and for whom




20             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
it was a useless appendage, had a scribe's passion for
wielding the pen, and aspired to rule Europe from the
cell of a monastery.  Charles dictated laws in person
to every country in Europe which he had inherited or
conquered; Philip sent them from his writing-desk.
The Emperor issued face to face with his enemies
those mandates which intimidated them.  They
saw the flash of his eye, the motion of his lips;
they heard the deep intonations of the Caesar's
voice. The King, like one of the hideous idols of
India, hidden from  the sight of his subjects in a
sanctuary, terrified the earth by decrees which came
from an invisible source. The father was the lightning shooting from one extremity of the horizon to
the other, and striking with Olympian power and
majesty.  The  son was  a grim-looking  engine,
riveted to one spot, but flinging afar its missiles of
death. The father, like the gods of Homer, seemed
in a few strides to overcome distance over land and
sea. The son, relentless and fixed as fate, in the
gloom of his half-royal and half-monkish residence,
ran his finger over a map, and marked the spot
where desolation was to alight.  Wherever there
was a grand public assembly in Europe, a Diet, a
Congress, or a Council, there was Charles. Personating the genius of diplomacy, Philip sent abroad
his ambassadors, and those agents of his subtle mind
and iron will felt that their master, wrapped up in
mystery and seclusion in his impenetrable retreat,
knew more than they did of the business which




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            21
they had to manage and of the men with whom they
had to deal, notwithstanding the boasted knowledge
and varied experience which they thought they had
acquired in their constant contact with the world.
But, in our opinion, notwithstanding his natural
and acquired qualifications, which are beyond dispute, notwithstanding his astuteness, his cultivated
mind, his profound knowledge of men and of the
secrets of courts, Philip was far from being a great
statesman. He was inferior to Cardinal Ximenes,
to his ancestor Ferdinand, the conqueror of Granada, to Richelieu, who ruled France in the beginning
of the next century, and who was fully his match
in cruelty, vindictiveness, and dissimulation.  The
vision of his intellect was like that of the lynx.  He
could see with wonderful distinctness through darkness, when crouching to spring upon the prey of
vulgar ambition. But he had no soul to soar on its
wings to that altitude where alone, in the full effulgence of the sun, a broad and comprehensive eagleeyed view of the horizon can be taken.  In one
thing he excelled: it was in what was called, in
those days, king-craft; and he was the perfection of
incarnated despotism, without that genius in whose
companionship its savage features sometimes lose
their terrors, without those amiable or brilliant
traits of character which seduce, and without the
halo of those heroic achievements which dazzle into
submission.  Crafty, saturnine, atrabilious, always
dissembling and suspecting, sombre and silent like




22             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
night when brooding over the hatching storm, he
lived shrunk within himself with the only fellowship
of his gloomy thoughts and cruel resolves.  His
memory was prodigious; he never forgot a name
which he had once heard, or a fact which had once
come to his knowledge. His industry could not be
surpassed; always at work, always ready to dispatch business, he was as attentive to the most
insignificant as to the most important. Immovable in his convictions, never swerving from  his
designs, unscrupulous in the means of accomplishing
his objects, indifferent to those pleasures which have
charms for most men, free from all passions save
one, or at least if he had any, holding them, like
everything else, in a state of servitude to his will,
dead to compassion, insensible to flattery, inaccessible to surprise, the paragon of caution, ever master
of himself to be the master of others, as cautelous
and wily as a Jesuit, as reticent of secrets as the
priest is of the confessions of his penitents, as silent
as a Carthusian Friar, this man could not but domineer over all who came within his reach, and be
proof against any influence over his own mind or
heart. Nature and education had destined him to
be the impersonation of absolutism.
So absorbing was his love of power, so intense
his distrust of others, that it made him accomplish
prodigies to escape the necessity of being dependent
on anybody but himself.  He aspired to do everything; there were no details too trifling for him to




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           23
descend to; he would prescribe where capital letters were to be used in ministerial dispatches,
correct the orthography and even alter the shape of
a letter, so as to make it conform to his own taste in
calligraphy. He would direct what ceremonial was
to be adopted in written communications to individuals according to their rank, what type, and what
ink, red, black, or blue, were proper for the printing of certain prayer-books, what habiliments were
to be worn by priests on particular occasions./ He
would dwell on other minutie entirely unworthy
of the attention of a great sovereign, whose time
ought to be too precious to be frittered away on
such fooleries, and who ought to remember that it is
not in keeping with the majesty and attributes of
Jupiter to be catching flies like an idle peasant-boy.
But in his mania for ruling everywhere, in high and
low places, and on all occasions, in his morbid love
of power and of its exercise even about trifles, he
could not refrain from displaying a ravenous appetite which would have disputed even dry bones with
a dog. He reminds us of an eddy which with equal
greediness swallows up the ponderous beam, and
the hardly perceptible straw floating on the water.
With such a disposition on the part of Philip, it may
well be supposed that his ministers were mere
clerks. True it is that he seldom came to any resolution without consulting them, and listening long
and patiently to what they had to say. But after
having submitted their thoughts to the process of a




24            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
slow  digestion, he elaborated them  into resolves
which were emphatically his own. It was his hand
which worked the complicated machinery of the
administration of his immense dominions in the Old
and in the New World. No State business was
transacted without undergoing the scrutiny of his
ever vigilant and sleepless attention. The royal
autographs are so numerous as to beggar belief; and
one wonders how he could find time to give so much
occupation to his pen. He made it a rule to read
all the government dispatches, whether sent or
received, and most of them were either corrected,
modified, or copiously annotated by himself. He
never moved from  one place to another without
being accompanied by a portfolio full of papers; and
even with the private secretary who waited on his
person  he preferred  communicating in writing,
rather than verbally. It probably gave him time to
reflect, and suited his cautious nature.
Philip had established a vast net-work of espionage, not only in his own dominions, but also over
the whole of the civilized world. He knew the manceuvres, intrigues, interests, and plans of foreign
courts, long before he was informed of them by his
accredited ambassadors, and those very ambassadors who sent him  minute dispatches about the
influence which governed a cabinet, or about the
weak side of the prince near whom they resided,
were themselves the objects of confidential communications from other sources about their own doings,




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            25
and about the accuracy  or incorrectness of the
information  which  they  transmitted.  He  had
agents, sub-agents, and counter-agents, innumerable
spies unknown to each other, reporting on the same
subject, and working like wheels within wheels. All
those who watched for him were also closely watched. He was well acquainted with the personal
affairs, the private interests, the virtues or vices,
the inclinations, the aspirations and the plans of all
the leaders of the insurrection in Flanders; with the
qualifications and resources of every pretender to
the crown of France; with the physical, moral and
intellectual imperfections or perfections of every
aspirant to the hand of Elizabeth of England; with
the qualities, foibles and circumstances of every
cardinal, or of any one who exercised any influence
at the court of Rome, and of all those who were to
be members of a Council in which the affairs, or
dogmas of the Catholic Church were to be discussed
and settled.  But his information was infinitely
more varied, minute and extensive on many subjects of much less importance, and this searching
inquisition on his part was carried so far that it can
hardly be realized. Thus every applicant for office,
even of inferior degree, was amazed to discover that
he was thoroughly known to the King, and that juvenile errors which he thought to be secret, or long
since forgotten, had found their way to him,'and
had not been dismissed from his tenacious memory.
Like a gigantic spider, motionless and terrific in




26            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
its apparent lethargy, Philip in his closet felt the
slightest percussion which struck the extremities of
any one of the threads of the web which he had
spread to the four quarters of the globe. He seemed to be omniscient, to be all ears and eyes; and no
man was ever more competent to avail himself of
such an advantage, for the purpose of carrying into
steady execution this favorite maxim  of Machiavelian policy: "Divide in order to rule."  He hoarded
power with as much miserly avidity as Shylock did
money, and, like the Jew of Venice, he did not
scruple to exact, for its accumulation, the pound of
flesh nearest the heart, both from his subjects and
his enemies. Thus, as the supreme power was a
thing which, with a man of his temperament, admitted of no partnership, he completed the destruction
of the liberties of Spain which his father had already
begun.  Charles had reduced the Cortes to a mere
matter of form and ceremony, to a delusive pageantry. Philip made them  an object of contempt.
Charles had prostrated at Villalar the ancient privileges, immunities and franchises of his subjects
which Padilla had dared to advocate with arms in his
hands. Philip extinguished them in the blood of Lanuza
in Aragon.  On that day, the axe of the executioner
consecrated him absolute King of Spain and the Indies.
Philip used to abstain from  presiding at the
meetings of his Cabinet, in order that his presence
should not check the unguarded manifestations of
views or passions which  might occasionally be




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           27
elicited by the heat of discussion; but the individual who happened to be commissioned to make an
official report of the ministerial proceedings, would
not unfrequently discover that the Prince was already
informed of all that had occurred in the Council.
When he chose to be present at their deliberations,
he took an incredible quantity of notes, and when
he was satisfied with the abundance of his materials,
he withdrew without expressing either approbation
or blame, or letting his councilors know which
advice he was inclined to favor. His dissimulation
was such that he would even dupe his ministers,
and, for some purpose of deception best known to
himself, would lay before them, at times, only
garbled fragments of dispatches, suppressing what
would have put in its proper light that which he
presented to them; or he would submit to their consideration certain documents which he had mutilated, or slyly altered to suit his views. Any man
of common honesty and understanding would call it
forgery, but it is probable that it went by another
name in Philip's vocabulary.  The leaders in his
Cabinet were the Duke of Alva and Ruy Gomez,
prince of Eboli. He liked to see them pitted against
each other, and took care to encourage their fierce
rivalry, raising and depressing them  in turn, but
cautious how he gave preponderance to one over
the other. Thus, these grave and puissant personages were kept engaged at a play, which is the common amusement of children. Placed at each end




28             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
of a board or plank, they moved alternately at seesaw up and down, according to the impulsion given
by Philip. Sometimes, as shown by the correspondence of Antonio Perez with Escovedo, he would, in
order to entrap suspected persons, authorize one of
his ministers to feign to betray him, to communicate
pretended State secrets, and even to write very
abusively of his person.  What a singular scene is
offered to us when we see Antonio Perez reading
to Philip letters in which he treated his royal master with very little respect, and that royal master
writing in a marginal note, " Good-very good;"
or, " Something more pointed might be added to make
the thing more effective!"  It was a peculiarity with
him that he retained in office men who had long lost
his confidence and whom he hated intensely.  He
disliked change in those whom he employed, and it
was impossible for them to discover when they had
forfeited his favor. None save one, and that was
Antonio Perez, could cope with him in the courtly
art of disguising feelings and thoughts; and the
iron mask which he wore was proof against the
penetration of his ministers and courtiers. It was
when the tiger's paw was as smooth as velvet that
the lacerating claws suddenly came out; it was
when a smile was on the lips, when benignity was
in the eye, when the apparently friendly hand rested
on the trusty shoulder, that the fatal blow was
struck which showed the long-cherished malignity
of the heart. There is something terrific in the




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           29
secrecy, dissimulation and dogged  perseverance
with which Philip would, during a series of years,
meditate and prepare the destruction of one man,
or of a whole population, and something still more
awful in the icy indifference, the superhuman insensibility, the accumulated cold-blooded energy of
hoarded-up vengeance with which, at the opportune
moment, he would issue a dry sentence of extermination.  Friend, brother, son, were empty and
unmeaning words which  imposed upon him  no
obligation of love or protection. Patiently, and, as
it were, luxuriously chewing the cud of his resentment, he seemed to take pleasure in distilling,
slowly and chemically, the poison which, Pythonlike, he darted at every object which he detested or
feared, or which he considered an obstacle in his
path. The minute instructions which, in his own
handwriting, he sent to the hangman who was to
strangle Montigny in his prison, and which were
intended to make the death of that nobleman appear
natural, produce in us a shivering of horror. A
king teaching his trade to Jack of the gallows!
The following laconic dispatch which he forwarded
to another minister of his wrath, "Take Lanuza
and promptly cut off his head," is another striking
characteristic of the man, particularly when it is
remembered that Lanuza had done nothing but his
duty as a magistrate in attempting to resist the
encroachments of the tyrant on the old constitutional
liberties of his subjects.




30            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
CHAPTER II.
ONE of the grand objects of Philip's life, as he
professed, was the suppression of heresy; but he
did not pursue it with the zealous disinterestedness
of a missionary working solely for the salvation of
the converted, or with the candid fervor of an apostle of truth. His purpose was entirely selfish. He
proceeded in his assumed mission with the cold calculations of a mathematician.  Catholicity was the
lever of Archimedes with which he intended to raise
the world from its foundations, and make it assume
the position which he chose. He took care, however, that the service of God should lead to the
aggrandizement of his dominions, and that religious
fanaticism should never be permitted to work to the
detriment of his temporal power. He was ready to
extirpate the heresy which agitated Europe, by
helping everywhere the Catholics against the Protestants; but it was to become the master of both
Protestants and Catholics. The unity of religious
faith was to be first imposed, in order to arrive at
the unity of political authority. He had constituted
himself the defender of the Roman Church, and
as long as the Pope would favor his designs, he was




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           31
profuse in blandishments, and professed to be his
dutiful son. But whenever the Pontiff ceased to be
a pliant tool, Philip treated him with great harshness, and seemed to approve and enjoy the insults
which his ambassadors and generals heaped on the
Vicar of Christ. Papal displeasure and Papal excommunications had no terrors for him, although he
wished them to be dreaded by others; and he was
willing to support the encroachments of the Holy
See against every sovereign except himself. His
first war, on his ascending the throne, was against
the Pope, after his having fortified his conscience by
the decision of a body of theologians and of jurists
from his several Councils. Some years afterward,
in 1578, he wrote as follows to the Marquis of Las
Navas, his ambassador at Rome: " You will give
His Holiness to understand that, according to the
opinion of our councilors and canonists, who have
put my conscience at rest on that point, the Prince
is not obliged to conform to the mandates of the
Pope in temporal affairs, and that His Holiness, in
thus travelling out of his spiritual jurisdiction,
exposes the Holy Apostolic See to be treated with
little respect, which, in these days and under present circumstances, should be carefully avoided by
His Holiness." The fact is, that the temporal power
of the sovereign, as Philip understood it, was always
sure to conflict with the spiritual rights of the Pope
whenever it suited Philip's policy. For instance,
he was inflexible in not permitting any pontifical




32            PPHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
hull to be published in his kingdom of Naples and
Sicily, and in his Duchy of Milan, much less in Spain,
without being examined and approved by him. The
Pope would remonstrate, and maintain that those
bulls only  concerned  ecclesiastical affairs; but
Philip, with a pertinacity which was always successful in the end, would contend that there was some
point in those ecclesiastical affairs which touched
the temporal, and threw the whole, as being inseparably blended, within his own jurisdiction.  The
" rights of the crown" (las regalias de la corona),
as he conceived them, were rather of unlimited
length, breadth and depth, and armed with so keen
an edge, that they never failed to clip and shorten
the long fingers of the Church whenever they came
in contact. At times he would even lecture the successor of St. Peter with the asperity of a disciple
of Luther; for when the Pope wished to establish
in Spain the military order of St. Lazarus, with
extraordinary privileges and immunities, Philip
wrote to Don Luis de Requesens, his ambassador in
Rome, a communication which was to be shown to
the Pope, and in which he said: " that the creation
and multiplication of so many religious orders had
been already an odious thing in the Church, and
was reproved by the old canons; that if this was
true in relation to the ordinary monastic and other
ecclesiastical orders, it was still truer in application
to those of a military character; that the baleful
consequence of it was to withdraw individuals from




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            33
the regular jurisdiction of the civil and ecclesiastical
laws which governed the community at large; that
the object of such creations was the making of money
by selling privileges, immunities and exemptions;
that such a course was unworthy of the Holy See;
that it was the scandal of the world; that such
policy was rotten in its very roots, and therefore no
wholesome fruit could be expected from it; that it
was not within the legitimate authority of the Holy
See to withdraw  from the jurisdiction of princes
such of their subjects as it might choose; that
those princes could not, in reason, permit it; that
there was neither justice nor honesty in such proceedings; and that religion, on such occasions, was
a mere pretext to serve other purposes." When
the Council of Trent, which had been adjourned,
was to meet again, the Pope insisted on its being a
new convocation. Philip wanted it to be called a
" continuation" of the Council. It gave rise to long
discussions, during which Philip treated the Pope
so rudely that the Holy Father was frightened into
a compliance with the King's wishes.
He had a passion and a veneration for monks; he
liked to be surrounded by them, but he never failed
to have them. strangled if they threw any obstacle'
in his way. Although a most zealous advocate and,
supporter of the interests of the Clergy, he did not
scruple to take one half of their revenues whenever
it was required by his wants. It pleased him to
keep up in that Clergy a spirit of opposition to the
3




34             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
pretensions of the Holy See, and he generally promoted those who had been the warmest in that opposition; so that, whenever he was at variance with
Rome, he was sure of being supported by his own
clergy, of whom he may be said to have been the
head, much more than the Pope.  It is one of the
inconsistencies of this man's character, that, fond of
monks as he was, he was opposed to the increase of
religious communities or associations; that he considered them as in conflict with the true spirit and
ends of the Church; and that far from  being in
favor of their augmentation, he desired their reduction to the old and primitive number.  He used to
say that piety throughout the world diminished in
proportion to the increase of religious orders.  He
made strenuous efforts to curtail those that were in
existence, and to make them conform to the severity
of the ancient by-laws and regulations.  He was a
rigid censor of the morals of the clergy, and, assisted
by his prodigious memory, he succeeded in keeping
himself accurately informed, not only of the names
and circumstances, but also of the deportment and
capacity of every member of that numerous clergy
who was in a position to pretend to preferments and
dignities, which he made it a rule to grant to virtue
and learning rather than to birth or favoritism.  He
had established an Argus-like police, which made
him acquainted with the delinquencies and faults of
the sacerdotal order, much to the dismay of those
who knew that they were subjected to this unsparing




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            35
ordeal.  An individual had been repeatedly and
strongly recommended to him for an ecclesiastical
dignity.  On those occasions the King had listened
with a darker shade of moroseness on his face than
usual, and had remained silent.  At last, on being
pressed, he replied with a withering sneer: "If
we make him a bishop, which of his two natural sons
will inherit the dignity after his death?"  On another occasion, the Count of Chinehon, for whom
he professed much esteem, was urging the claim of
an aspirant to an Episcopal See.  "I want you
first," said the king, "to tell me what your candidate has done with that son he had when a student
in the College of Salamanca."  It may well be
imagined that it was not without some degree of
apprehension that he was approached for office when
the applicant was received with such home-thrusts.
Although Philip kept his priesthood well bridled,
and never permitted them, in the pulpit or elsewhere,
to interfere beyond what he thought proper with the
affairs of State, he allowed them  occasionally to
take more personal liberties with him than he vouchsafed to any other of his subjects. His High Almoner,
Don Luis Manrique, once wrote to him in the following bold strain: "Your Majesty's subjects everywhere complain of your manner of doing businesssitting all day long over your papers, from  your
desire, as they intimate, to seclude yourself from
the world, and from  a want of confidence in your
ministers.  Hence such interminable delays as fill
t,




36             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
the soul of every suitor with despair. Your subjects are discontented, because you refuse to take
your seat in the Council of State. Thb  Almighty
does not send kings into the world to spend their
days in reading or writing, or even in meditation
and prayer, but to serve as public oracles to which
all may resort for answers.  If any sovereign has
received this grace, it is your Majesty; and therefore the greater the sin, if you do not give free
access to all." Philip bore patiently with this lecture on his royal duties, and it is the more remarkable from the circumstance, that, from his boyhood,
he had shown a disposition to wince under the administering of any rebuke from those preceptors to
whose care his education had been intrusted, as we
see by an admirable letter written to him by the
emperor his father in support of old Zuniga, who
used to speak his mind too frankly for the taste of
his pupil. "If he deals plainly with you," wrote
Charles to Philip, "it is for the love he bears you.
If he were to flatter you, and be only solicitous to
minister to your wishes, he would be like all the rest
of the world, and you would have no one near you
to tell you the truth; and a worse thing cannot
happen to any man, old or young, but most of all to
the young, from  their want of experience, which
prevents them from discerning truth from error."
The natural haughtiness of Philip's temper was such
that there was very little chance of his profiting by
this paternal admonition. A striking proof of this




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            37
disposition was given by him  at Augsburg, in Germanv, during his father's life, as related by Prescott.
"When Charles returned to his palace, escorted, as
he usually was, by a train of nobles and princes of
the empire, he would courteously take them by the
hand, and raised his hat as he parted with them.
But Philip, it was observed, on like occasions,
walked directly into the palace, without so much as
turning round, or condescending, in any way, to notice the courtiers who had accompanied him.  This
was taking higher ground than even his father
had done. In fact, it was said of him that he considered himself greater than his father, inasmuch
as the son of an Emperor was greater than the son
of a King." Such a man was not apt to listen meekly
to any unpalatable truths, or to be patient of control,
or even of guidance, from whatever source it was
offered, unless at rare intervals, probably for effect,
or, perhaps, to serve some purpose of his own, if it
was not because, among the cloying dishes which
flattery served up to him daily, it was a relish for
him to find one occasionally seasoned with a few
grains of pungent truth.
Lafuente, the Spanish historian, says, probably
with truth, that Philip would have invented the Inquisition if he had not found it already in existence. He made that bloody tribunal his right arm,
and he patronized inquisitors, provided they understood that they were to be his humble and obedient
ministers.  To their jurisdiction he found it con



38              PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
venient to turn over all those whose ruin he could
not accomplish with as much ease by the exercise
of secular or civil authority. They had nets vwhich
no hunted game, whatever it was, could hardly hope
to escape.  This terrific institution, in the hands of
Philip, reminds us of those cells in Venetian prisons, the lateral walls and the vaults of which were
said to be so constructed that they daily closed
tighter round a doomed victim, gradually depriving
him  of air and space, until they finally came together and crushed his body to death.  But whenever the Inquisition endeavored to emancipate itself
from the leading-strings in which it was put, a gentle
paternal slap from  the monarch vwas an admonition
which warned the tool to remain what it was, and
not to presume to be the head or even the hand.
Thus, in 1574, the Inquisition had resolved to establish in several of the most important provinces of
Spain a military Order, under the name of " St.
Mary of the White Sword."  This Order was to be
composed exclusively of men whose genealogy, after
the most severe and scrupulous examination, would
show  them  descended from  many generations of
Christians who had never deviated from  the old
Catholic faith, who had never been soiled by the
impurities of new-fangled doctrines, and whose veins
had never been contaminated by the admixture of
any Moorish, heretic, or Jewish blood.  This militia was to be governed by the Inquisitor-General,
and t be t he Pretorian guard of the State religion,
OVLIM  I YV VV ~L - VVV~ -~VU t~LVVI  L VI VV ~-c~ylLVVVIV4Ln




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.             39
and its members were to be exempt from any other
jurisdiction, either civil or royal.  Many scions of
the most influential and noblest families of Spain
had already entered the Order, and a petition had
been laid before the Sovereign for the confirmation
of its constitution and privileges, when Philip, to
use a homely but expressive and well-known figurative saying, " smelt a rat," and immediately crushed
this insidious conspiracy against his authority.  He
ordered all the papers of the embryo Order to be
seized; he commanded that, for the future, a profound and perpetual silence be observed in relation
to the contemplated institution; and he addressed
to all religious and secular corporations a circular,
in which he recommended to them  not to make
themselves uneasy about the safety and  purity
of the true faith, because it was his duty, in the
post in which God had placed him, to look to these
matters, giving them  the assurance, at the same
time, that he would fulfill his obligations in that
respect without any officious assistance  which he
did not need.  If he was satisfied with this exhibition of displeasure, and did not inflict actual punishment, it is probably because he did not choose to
weaken an instrument which he found so useful to
his purposes.
Time has explained some of the acts of that mysterious man, which for so many years had remained
puzzling riddles for those who studied his reign.
For instance, his contemporaries were amazed that a




40            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
young and ambitious sovereign, after the battles of
St. Quentin and Gravelines, when France lay at his
feet, was so anxious for peace as to assure one of his
negotiators, the Prince of Orange, " that the greatest service he could render him in this world was to
make peace, and that he desired to have it at any
price whatever, so eager was he to return to Spain."
To another envoy he had said: "0 ambassador, I
wish for peace on any terms, and if the King of
France had not sued for it, I would have begged for
it myself." Charles the Fifth, in his retreat of Yuste,
was convulsed with rage when he learned that his
son had lost the opportunity to march to Paris after
the victory of St. Quentin. The world was taken by
surprise, and wondered why the King of Spain,
in the midst of his triumphs, was so clamorous for a
cessation of hostilities.  We know nQW that it was
because Philip's head was full of a scheme by which
he was to prevail upon the King of France to massacre all the Protestants in his dominions, at the same
time when he, Philip, should do the same butcher's
work in the Netherlands. Hence he had been most
anxious to propitiate his royal brother of France by
an unexpectedly advantageous treaty of peace, and
he gained his object, since Henry the Second agreed
to the proposed wholesale assassination, which was
defeated only by accidental circumstances, and postponed to take place a few years later, under the
reign of Charles the Ninth. Thus Philip stands revealed to posterity as the real author of the St. Bar



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           41
tholomew.  To him belongs the original idea, and he
cannot justly be deprived of a copyright so authentically and in due form registered in the records and
under the great seal of Hell.
The sudden termination of the war with the Pope
was of the same nature. By his order the victorious Duke of Alva, under the weight of whose iron
hand Rome had tottered to its foundations, fell at
the feet of the Pope, and begged his absolution for
having beaten his troops and insulted his person.
It was in vain that Alva bitterly exclaimed that the
treaty of peace which he was instructed to grant
"seemed to have been dictated by the vanquished
rather than by the victor." It was in vain that the
haughty Duke consoled himself with this remark:
" Were I the king, His Holiness would be ordered
to send one of his nephews to ask for my pardon,
instead of my General suing for his."  It was in vain
that Charles V. at Yuste, when he heard of what he
thought to be so disgracfel to the King, was beside
himself with mortification; it was in vain that the
recluse  Emperor swore with the coarse energy
of a trooper. No pride or vain-glory could have
induced Philip, at any time of his life, to step one
line beyond that point to which, and no further, he
thought necessary to carry that policy or design
which he had at heart. On the occasion to which I
have referred, he had shown that he could be driven
into the painful necessity of flagellating, after the
fashion of savage tribes, the idol before which he




42              PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
knelt, whenever that idol should become troublesome, or deaf to his pressing entreaties.  That was
enough; this practical warning had answered his
purpose; and he would go no further.  He was not
the man to weaken the Papacy, when the rmain
object of his life, and, we may say, his fixed and
dominant idea, was to hunt Protestantism out of this
world with all the hounds which he could muster to
his assistance.
We believe that Philip was sincere, when he
asseverated that he would lose a hundred lives, if
he had them, rather than compromise with heresy.
We believe that he was equally sincere when he
affirmed that he would lose all his dominions rather
than suffer them  to be tainted with Protestantism,
and his conduct in relation  to the  Netherlands
proves, we think, that sincerity; for he would  have
secured the allegiance of all those provinces, if he
had made concessions in matters of religion.  TWe
believe that he was sincere when he wrote to the
Emperor of Germany, who had remonstrated wsith
him on his treatment of the Netherlands,'Ihat "he
had seen with the deepest sorrow that his Imperial
Majesty wished to persuade him in religiols matters
to proceed with mildness.  The Emperor ought to
be aware," added Philip, " that no human consideration, no regard for his realms, nothing in the world
which could be represented to him, or risked by
him, would  cause him  to swerve a single hair's
breadth from  his path on the subject of religion.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
This path was the same through all his kin
He had ever trod in it faithfully, and he m
keep in it perpetually.  He would admit L
counsel nor persuasion to the contrary, and A
take it ill if counsel or persuasion should be i
ed. He could not but consider the terms of i
instructions given to the Archduke * as exceeding
the limits of amicable suggestion.  They, in fact,
amounted to a menace, and he was'astonished that
a menace should be employed, because with princes
constituted like himself such means could have but
little success.f
Motley, in his admirable History of the Rise of
the Dutch Republic, raises doubts on the earnestness
of Philip's fanaticism  and on the sincerity of his
religious convictions, because that monarch, as he
maintains,'was willing to purchase his election to
the imperial throne of Germany, which his father
had occupied, by abjuring what were supposed to be
his most cherished principles.  "Philip of Spain,"
he says, "whose mission was to extirpate heresy
throughout his realms, and who, in pursuance of that
mission, had already perpetrated more crimes, and
waded more deeply in the blood of his subjects than
monarch had ever done before; Philips for whom
his apologists have never found any defence, save
that he believed it his duty to God rather to de* One of the Archdukes of the German Empire had been sent on a
special mission to Philip.
f Motley's Rise of the Dutch Republic, p. 272, vol. II.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.,e his territories than to permit a single
within their limits, now entered into secret
ations with the Princes of the Empire. He,ed himself, if they would confer the crown
I him, that he would withdraw the Spaniards
Jm  the Netherlands; that he would tolerate in
hose provinces the exercise of the reformed religion; that he would recognize their union with the
rest of the German Empire, and their consequent
claim to the benefits of the Passau treaty; that he
would restore the Prince of Orange and'all his accomplices' to their former possessions, dignities and
condition, and that he would cause to be observed,
throughout every realm incorporated with the Empire, all the edicts and ordinances which had been
constructed to secure religious freedom in Germany.
In brief, Philip was willing, in case the crown of
Charlemagne should be promised him, to undo the
work of his life, to reinstate the arch-rebel whom he
had hunted and proscribed, and to bow before that
Reformation whose disciples he had so long burned
and butchered. So much extent and no more had
that religious conviction by which he had for years
the effrontery to excuse the enormities practiced in
the Netherlands.  God would never forgive him so
long as one heretic remained unburned in the Provinces; yet give him the imperial sceptre, and every
heretic, without forswearing his heresy, should be
purged with hyssop and become whiter than snow."
In the facts here related we certainly see abund



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           45
ant evidence of Philip's unbounded duplicity, but
none of his being a hypocrite in his manifestations of
religious faith.  We therefore respectfully dissent
from the conclusions of the distinguished historian.
He himself has too deeply studied Philip's character
not to be convinced that, had the champion of Catholicity been elected to the throne of the Caesars like
his father, he would have violated all the engagements which he had taken to secure the coveted
object of his ambition, and would have made use of
the increase of his power to quarter, disembowel
and burn Protestants with renewed energy and on a
larger field of operation. He would, no doubt, as
Emperor, have given terrible proofs of the genuine
earnestness of his fanaticism, instead of " bowing
before the Reformation," as the illustrious author we
have quoted affects to think.  It was the very
essence of his system of ethics to keep no faith with
the enemies of God. There was merit in the breach,
and sin in the observance. No covenant with Satan
and Satan's offspring could be binding upon a true
son of the Holy Catholic Church, which, as he believed, permitted such dealings with the " accursed
vermin " of Protestantism, only as praiseworthy
snares to entrap the disciples of the arch-enemy. It
was the general impression in those times, when universal deception was the order of the day among
the rulers of the earth, that Philip, notwithstanding
all the promises he might make and all the oaths
he might take, would not, in reality, compromise in




46             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
matters of religion, and that he and toleration of
heresy were two things which could not exist in the
same atmosphere. The Prince of Orange and all the
Electoral Princes of the Empire knew but too well
that Philip would not "undo the work of his life,"
but would have grimly smiled at their stupendous
credulity, if they had been such fools as to put any
faith in his word. Therefore not a moment's consideration was given to assurances which must have been
regarded as insults to the intellect of those to whom
they were addressed.  Hence the Electors took very
good care to withhold the imperial mantle from the
shoulders of him who, as a bigoted Catholic, hated
heresy with an intensity not to be exceeded bv the
fiercest of the Popes, and who, as a sovereign and a
statesman, looked upon religious reformation as a
pretext for civil revolutions, which he also abhorred
as much as heresy, " with all his heart, with all his
soul, with all his strength and with all his mind."
It appears to have been a part of Philip's policy
to make his most faithful servants and most powerful nobles feel that he could exalt and depress them
at will, according as he needed, or not, their services,
and that they were entirely dependent on him for
their worldly honors and prosperity.  Thus he used
them like implements, dismissed them, and recalled
them  again with a degree of indifference which was
peculiar to his nature, and what is still more extraordinary, with a cool conviction that they would be
at hand whenever wanted, or whistled for.  The




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.              47
haughty Duke of Alva, to whom he was but too much
indebted for the fidelity with which his tyrannical
orders were executed in Flanders, was exiled from
court for a slight cause of displeasure, and, a short
time after, he was put, as if nothing had happened,
and without one soothing word of conciliation, at the
head of the army destined to invade Portugal. HI-e
raised Espinosa from nothing to be president of the
Council of Castile and Italy, to be-Grand Inquisitor and Cardinal; and without any sufficient motive
that we can discover, he struck at his favorite a
blow which broke his heart and brought him to the
grave.  His confidential minister and agent, Antonio Perez, whom he had intrusted with so many dark
secrets, he did not fear to persecute at last with
relentless fury.  So it was with others.  His own
sister, Margaret of Austria, who, as regent of the
Netherlands, had suffered much for his sake, he
filled with disgust, as soon as she ceased to answer
his purposes, and he superseded her by the Duke
of Alva in a  manner which wounded her feelings and was highly offensive to her dignity.  The
Duke met with the same fate in his turn. It is not
necessary to pursue any further this enumeration.
They were blind indeed, who, in serving him, did
not see that, although things of life, real men of
flesh and blood, they were used by Philip like
chessmen on a chess-board.
Whoever excited  Philip's fear or jealousy did
not usually live any length of time, when within




48            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
reach of his arm, and that arm was a long one. It
will be sufficient to mention three instances in which
death, whether brought by accident, or by the subtle
means which he always had at his disposal, served
opportunely what was supposed to be the secret
desire of his heart. Thus, Philip was still in the full
vigor of manhood, when his son and heir, Don Carlos, had reached his twenty-third year.  This, in
itself, was an untoward circumstance for a man of
Philip's temperament, for reasons which we shall
mention.  Besides,  that prince  was the  very
opposite  of his father.  A  creature  of ungovernable passions, and of a violence so extreme
that it must be attributed to insanity, he was so free,
so open, or so imprudent that he never could conceal one single feeling or thought. He was of a
fiery, martial disposition, and knew no fear. Capriciously generous or cruel, headstrong, obstinate
and reckless, rushing blindly like an infuriated bull
on any obstacle to his will, he recalled to mind, with
exaggerated and distorted features, his kinsman and
namesake, Charles the Bold of Burgundy. These
were sufficient causes of dislike in a man of Philip's
nature, and he treated Carlos with such studied
coldness, if not persecuting aversion, that he drove
him into a sort of frantic despair. The partially
mad prince wished to be something in the State; he
desired to be initiated to business, to have the command of armies, and his father gave him to understand that he was to remain a cipher.  He had




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           49
been affianced to the beautiful Isabelle of France;
his father took her for himself.  Exasperated by
this outrage and by what he conceived to be the uniformly and systematically bad treatment to which
he was subjected, the Prince loudly complained.
He uttered words of savage passion against the King
and his ministers. He breathed vengeance against
his enemies. He criticised the policy pursued by
the Government in the Netherlands.  He determined to go himself to that country and look into the
causes of discontent. Dagger in hand, he made an
assault upon the Duke of Alva for having accepted
the command which he, the Hereditary Prince,
wished to have. Several eligible matches had been
proposed for Carlos, but the King had always defeated them. He seemed to be anxious that his son
should never marry.  He probably thought that it
would have strengthened the position of the Prince.
At last the unfortunate Carlos resolved to fly from
the Kingdom. He communicated his intention to his
uncle, Don John of Austria, whom he loved and
trusted, and who in vain remonstrated'on the folly
of such a scheme. Don John thought it his duty to
report the fact to the King; and the Prince, on suspecting it, gave way to one of his ungovernable fitsof passion, and attacked his uncle sword in hand.
There was something still worse: it was suspected
that the Prince was tainted with heresy. Otherwise, he could not sympathize as he did with the
insurrectionists of the Netherlands. Be this true
4




50            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
or not, the time had evidently arrived when the
heir apparent was to be a thorn in the King's side.
It was probable that, like most heirs apparent, he
would soon become a centre of opposition, a focus of
dangerous intrigues, a rallying-point for all malcontents, a pole-star toward which would be directed
hopes and aspirations, if not actual plots and rebellions, and therefore that he would turn out to be a
source of anxieties to the ruler of the realm. That
ruler was Philip, who, as we may reasonably suppose, trembled at the prospect of a long and dangerous struggle with so fierce and unmanageable a
character as Don Carlos.  It might become necessary to conciliate, to make concessions, and even to
part with some fragment of power. In one of the
gloomy cells of the Escorial, Philip, on this occasion as on many others, deliberately pondered,
slowly made up his mind, and decreed that his son
be arrested and never again restored to liberty.
The Prince, soon after his incarceration, as was to
be expected, sickened, lingered, and died.
We know'in history of no scene so dramatically
horrible, and at the same time so contemptible, so
cowardly and so ruffianly as is presented by Philip,
with armor over his clothes and a helmet on his
head, stealing at midnight on the slumbers of his
son, through a door whose boltings and fastenings
he had ordered a skillful mechanic to make secretly
insecure, advancing like a thief and a {murderer,
tremblingly and cautiously, preceded by six of the




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            51
great lords of his Councils, and by twelve men of his
body-guard, who were to seize his victim in his bed
and remove all possibility of danger, before he ventured into the chamber.  The Prince had long suspected an attempt against his life, or liberty.  He
therefore always wore arms on his person, and slept
with weapons under his pillow. But on this occasion, the Grandees of Spain whom Philip had converted into alguazils crept as stealthily as wild
Indians, and pinioned Carlos before he was awake.
Now the worst fears of the victim were but too
sadly realized.  "Your majesty," said Carlos to
Philip, "had better kill me than keep me a prisoner.
It will be a, great scandal to the Kingdom.  If you
do not kill me, I will make away with myself."
"You will do no such thing,' replied the King, "for
that would be the act of a madman."  "Your majesty," continued Carlos, "treats me so ill that you
force me to this extremity. I am not mad, but you
drive me to despair." The prisoner's words, relates
Prescott, became so broken by sobs as to be scarcely
audible. But Philip was no more moved than the
steel cuirass he wore over his breast.  He quietly
completed his arrangements for the safe-keeping of
his son, took with his own royal hands a coffer which
contained the papers of Carlos, and withdrew with
it from  the apartment of the miserable being who
was doubly miserable from  having such a father.
Shortly after, the prince was no more, and Philip
slept better.




52             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
The death of Carlos was attended with a circumstance in which there seems to be a degree of impious mockery  and  diabolical hypocrisy which
reaches the sublime.  We mention the anecdote,
because in it the whole of Philip's nature stands revealed. It paints to the life, like one of Rembrandt's
finishing strokes of the brush, or rather it is like
a photograph taken by the lurid light of a flame shot
out from Pandemonium.  If some doubt that Philip
killed his son, none doubt that he cherished against
him the most deep-rooted aversion; and yet look at
this scene! Here lies the Prince on his bed, dying, if
not from poison, at least from despair produced by
his father's treatment. He is insensible, or he sleeps
for a little while, before sleeping forever. Philip
steals softly behind the Prince of Eboli and the High
Prior, Antonio de Toledo, who are watching over
the last agonies of the victim. He stretches out his
hand toward the bed, and, making the sign of the
cross, gives a parting benediction to his dying son.
Was Philip in earnest? Was this the blessing of a
kind parent, after the sentence of a just and inexorable judge? Was there some kind of sophistry by
which Philip persuaded himself that he had fulfilled
the duties of both?  If not, we wonder if the arch
dissembler thought that he deceived by the stage
effect of this grand piece of acting his accomplices
who stood by, or hoped that their report of it would
dupe the world?
There is a figure which projects in bright relief




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           53
from  the dark canvas of Philip's reign, with a lambent glory sporting around its head. It is that of
Don John of Austria, who was the natural son of
Charles V., but who, if barred from  the patrimony
which went to the legitimate offspring, had inherited
all the grand and heroic qualities which his father
had possessed.  He was born a hero, a paladin of
romance. The beauty of his person was equal to
the excellence of his mind and heart.  He seemed
to have been intended by nature as a satire on his
royal brother.  He served that brother faithfully,
gained victories for him, and ought to have been the
pride of the house of Austria, by which he aspired
to be acknowledged as if he had been born in wedlock.  As a reward for all he had done, he begged
to be raised to the rank of infante, or member of the
royal family, by a formal decree, but this boon Philip
never granted.  Don John found it more easy to be
the conqueror of the Moors in the Alpujarras, and
of the Turks at Lepanto, and to be the idol of Christendom, than to possess himself of one particle of
his brother's affection. Others, with the bar sinister in their shields, had ascended thrones, and he
also wished, with his good sword and with the sanction of the Pope, to conquer a kingdom for himself.
Philip took care to prevent it. Don John aspired
to the hand of Mary Stuart, of Elizabeth of England,
and other royal dames.  He probably thought that
his glory was too dazzling to permit the defect in
his birth to be seen. But Philip was determined




54             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
that his bastard brother should not become a king
like himself.  Besides, it looks as if it had been settled in his mind that Don John should not contract
any matrimonial alliance whatever.  It was sufficiently bitter to be eclipsed by his subject, and it
was a consolation that he could thwart, oppress, humiliate and crush, at will, the object of his envy.
To permit him to become independent was a thought
not to be endured. Would he allow Don John the
opportunity to show himself as superior to him in
the capacity of a king, as he had proved himself to
be by his personal exploits, his brilliant valor, and
other moral qualities? Unfortunately, Antonio Perez, the only man, perhaps, who, for many years,
succeeded in thoroughly deceiving Philip, and in
slyly leading him into the paths in which the skillful minister wished him  to tread, convinced the
tyrant, who listened but too greedily to such suggestions, that Don John not only schemed to encircle
his brow with a foreign crown, but also nourished
designs which might be fatal to the royal authority
at home. Philip began to fear. That was enough.
Escovedo, the secretary and friend of the Prince,
who was suspected of encouraging his ambitious
aspirations, was assassinated by Philip's order.
Don John's noble heart was broken with grief by
this event and by the King's suspicions of his fidelity, combined with various causes of despondency
emanating from other sources. Although still redolent with youth, he sickened and died in the




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
Netherlands, where he had been governing, fighting,
negotiating, and pining away in the service of his
brother. Livid spots appeared on his body after
death. The multitude, and particularly his companions-in-arms, who composed the funeral procession, shed a profusion of tears, but did not venture
to whisper the suspicions that were in their minds.
The finger of caution was raised to the lips to give
warning, and to close them against'any unguarded
expression. The king might hear. To be impartial, it must be admitted that Philip had shown, on
repeated occasions, more affection for his brother,
and more solicitude for the preservation of his life,
than could be expected from his cold-blooded temperament; nor is there any proof that Don John's
death was not natural, or if it was caused by poison,
that Philip was accessary to that crime. Be it as it
may, however, Don John's ambition had become
troublesome, and he ceased to live at an opportune
moment for Philip's peace of mind.
William of Nassau, prince of Orange, the Washington of the Netherlands, was one of the men whom
Philip hated the most intensely, and no man ever
knew Philip better than William. He was not to be
cajoled and entrapped like Egmont and Horn. He
was proof against all of Philip's oaths, arts, flatteries
and deceptions. Philip never made a move on the
chess-board which had not been guessed at and anticipated by William. It is really interesting to see
these two wary antagonists keenly watching each




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
other's combinations, plotting and counter-plotting,
mining and undermining, and trying to outmanceuvre each other. Philip the taciturn had found his
match in William the silent. If the King's perseverance equaled that of the Prince; in diplomacy
and in fertility of resources the Prince surpassed the
King. Philip's generals could beat William in the
field, but hardly had one army been destroyed,
when he created another. It was Antaeus rising
from  the ground with more energy and desperate
resolve, each time after he had been prostrated on
his mother earth, and Philip was no Hercules to lift
him up and crush him whilst struggling in the vacant
air. The Catholic King got tired, at last, of the exhausting game he had been playing so long against
the champion of Protestantism, and, one day, the
world heard with horror that the Prince of Orange
had died by an assassin's shot.
Philip did not possess that valuable art which
some sovereigns have of saying gracious or soulstirring things which live forever in the memory of
him to whom they are addressed, which soften disappointment and double the value of a favor. He
could not, like his contemporary, Henry IV. of
France, utter those sentences which take forcible
possession of a man's heart; which make the greatest
sacrifices light and even acceptable to him from
whom they are expected; which cause toils, privations and dangers to be forgotten, and send one
bounding over a battery of cannon with as much




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           57
alacrity as if going to a wedding feast. There was
one occasion, however, on which Philip was so
moved that he was betrayed into paying a compliment with the dignity of a Sovereign and the sensibility of a man. It was when, after the battle of
St. Quentin, the Duke of Savoy, laying at his feet
the banners and other trophies conquered over the
French, and kneeling down, would have kissed his
hand.  The King raised  him  from  the ground,
embraced him, and said that " the acknowledgments
were due from himself to the captain who had won
such a victory."  But we believe that, as a general
rule, it was his intention, as it was his nature, to be
impassive, and that he was resolved to permit himself, as seldom as possible, to be warmed into any
exhibition of feeling. He seems to have taken
pleasure in reversing the celebrated saying, "Hfomo
sumr; humuani niil a me alienumn puto, and to have
adopted as his motto, "I am not a man, and what
concerns man is foreign to me."  Thus his policy
was to appear to be a stranger to human affections
and sentiments, and to be impervious to grief and
joy. When he heard of the disaster of the Invincible Armada, his countenance did not change, and
he contented himself with saying, "That he had
sent his ships to contend against men and not against
the elements."  The glorious triumph of Lepanto
was received with the same apparent indifference.
Such impassiveness was easily attained by a man
who had no heart. It is to be regretted that he




58            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
was not dissected after his death, for the special
purpose of examining the place where that organ
should have been. Even Alva felt for the widow
and children of Egmont. He informed Philip that
they were reduced to the most horrible destitution,
and begged him to have pity on them. The reply
was: " I will think of it, and let you know my determination."  This was all that could be obtained,
and they would have starved if Alva had not, out
of his own private fortune, granted a pension to
Egmont's widow and Egmnont's children.  How bitter must have been to them the bread proceeding
from such a source!
One of the singularities of Philip's character was
the anxiety which he frequently showed concerning
the future life of his victims in a better world. He
seemed to be extremely desirous that they should
die like Christians, and that their souls should be
saved, as in the case of Egmont, Horn, Montigny
and others. This feeling was exhibited in secret
and confidential letters; it must, therefore, be
accepted as sincere, and cannot be presumed to
have been  intended  for effect.  But the mystery which shrouded so many of his acts was
one of the distinctive features of his reign. The
death of Montigny, of Don John, of Escovedo, of
Don Carlos, the persecution of Antonio Perez, the
incarceration of the Princess of Eboli, and other
deeds equally dark, were enigmas which excited, at
the time, the most intense curiosity, and which the




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           59
world still attempts to solve. Light has fallen upon
them in the course of years, but yet there are in
them obscurities which remain impenetrable.  Much
is unexplained as to the causes and circumstances
of those events which glide before us with an iron
mask on their faces like the celebrated prisoner of the
age of Louis XIV. But those mysteries give a sort
of painful attraction to the reign of Philip. To them
he is indebted for a great part of his fame and for
the effect which he produces on the imagination.
It is due to their influence that he has become a
favorite study, a rich theme, not only for the historian, but also for the philosopher and the poet.
Seen through deep mists and frowning clouds, by
the imperfect glimpses of the fugitive lightning leaping from the bosom of the howling storm, the figure
of Philip assumes colossal proportions. Like one
of those gigantic peaks which, at the North Pole,
overhang the angry waves of tempestuous seas in a
sunless atmosphere, it derives its majesty from the
terrors with which it is surrounded.
Patience is said to have. been the great virtue of
Philip. That virtue was, probably, due to his temperament. We think that he carried it to an excess,
and that it became a defect. It is an important art
to know how to wait, but there is something like
waiting too long. He used to boast that "he and
time were a match for any two." But he deceived
himself; time was not always his ally.  Time favors
genius and virtue; to the latter it renders tardy




60            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
justice, and to the former it tenders golden opportunities, which must be snatched with a ready grasp.
Time, like tide and wind, waits for no man; and
Philip, progressing at the slow and measured step
of an Iberian mule, frequently arrived too late to
co-operate with time. His faith in its agency, however, remained unshaken, and it betrayed him into
the adoption of a system  of procrastination.  It
grew  into an unconquerable habit, which, by his
example, he seems to have made a national one, and
to have bequeathed to all the subsequent governments of Spain. It drove his officers and ministers
into fits of despair, and they were constantly complaining of his dilatoriness. Whilst he was deliberating, the moment for action had passed away.
During the time which it took him to write long dispatches, in which he equivocated to his heart's content, and sedulously abstained from meeting those
difficult questions on which his answer was anxiously
expected, his father, Charles V., would have conquered a province. Many of the important decisions
and measures into which he was at last driven were
too late. If he had been prompt on those occasions,
more than one success would have been secured, and
more than one reverse avoided.  Philip was too
prudent, too cautious. He was ambitious to acquire,
but he had too much to lose to be bold and adventurous. Like Casar, he would not have trusted
to the cast of a die. It is true that he was not
Caesar, and was not of a temperament to do violence




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            61
to fortune.  The mole, which gropes laboriously
under ground, would not be true to its nature, and
would act unwisely, if it hung its destiny on the
wing of an eagle. Philip could hardly have been
surpassed as head of the Order of the Jesuits, as
chief of the Inquisition, as minister of police, or as
a wily ambassador. Considering his indefatigable
industry and his peculiar qualifications, we even
think that he might have united in his person all
these different characters and cumulated their functions, without fear of suffering from  comparison
with anybody distinguished for exalted merit in any
one of those positions. But Providence had destined
him to be a king, and we deem that, as such, he had
many superiors.
There is a wonderful monument, in the architecture of which the character of Philip is typified.
It is the Escorial. The vow which he had made to
erect this prodigious structure, if he won the battle
of St. Quentin, was probably but an occasion for
him to carry into execution a conception which was
already in his mind.  It may have suggested, however, the whimsical idea of dedicating it to St. Lawrence, the patron saint of the day on which that
event took place, and of adopting for the plan of the
building the shape of the gridiron on which the
saint is said to have suffered martyrdom. Great
monarchs had bequeathed to posterity architectural
creations, as the  manifestations  of the  power
and taste which they had possessed. It is to be




62            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
supposed that Philip had the same ambition, and the
Escorial arose in its massive proportions to astonish
the world. It was with Philip a labor of love during many long years, and he spent in its construction
six millions of ducats-a sum which, considering the
difference in the value of coin between that epoch
and ours, may be set down as equivalent to almost
thirty millions of dollars. Within a few miles of
Madrid, in a region which seems to have been calcined by the fiery wrath of heaven, where the winds
howl with fury, or moan in a piteous tone during
the greater portion of the year, there is a chain of
mountains whose heads are white with snow even at
the end of July. Those mountains are bare of vegetation and are of an ashy color, as if their cheeks
were pale with affright at the scene of desolation in
which they are placed. This was the spot selected
by Philip for the monument which was to commemorate his reign. It is a palace, a cloister and a
tomb. God and the King in Philip's mind were
intimately associated-they could not be separated.
God, it is true, might be where the King was not,
but where the King was, there was God bound to
be. In such close alliance with the Deity, the King
felt secure. He could do no wrong, and nothing
could be attempted against the majesty of earth,
without its being also an attempt against the majesty
of Heaven. The blending of the two was to strike
with awe all mortal eyes.  He seems to have
thought that he was in a sort of mystical copartner



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            63
ship with God and His Church, and that he was
entitled to most of the profits of the association.  If
as the omnipotent representative of divine poweras king-he violated any of the commandments of
the Decalogue, provided he conscientiously thought
it was for the benefit, first of the throne, and next
of the Church, he felt sure that the hand of God
was extended over his head for absolution.  Thus
one part of the Escorial was a palace for himself,
and another a temple for God. To each his share.
It was also to be a mausoleum for his race-the tomb,
side by side with the throne-which is not to be
wondered at-for from the insane Joanna who gave
birth to his royal line down to the idiotic Charles
the Second who closed it, there seems to haive been
in the family a strange disposition to keep up a kind
of mournful dalliance with the grave, and to entertain a wild curiosity to peep into its secrets.
It is impossible to see the Escorial without coming to the conclusion that it is the fittest abode on
earth for monastic austerity, ascetic devotion and
penitential remorse.  The very stones seem to pray.
There stands revealed at one glance the whole spirit
of Christianity-not of Christianity smiling with
hopes, but convulsed with terror, prostrated at the
feet of an angry God, and listening to the trumpet
which announces the day of judgment.  The blood
freezes in the veins; the very soul shivers with cold
and awe. The Escorial is a Biblical monument, and
one is almost tempted to fancy that it was planned




64             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
by Moses under the inspiration of his Egyptian
recollections.  He who enters  its sombre walls
feels a creeping of the flesh, as if he was conscious
of standing in the invisible presence of Jehovah.
He imagines, with a French writer, that he hears
the thunders of Sinai and the lamentations of the
prophets.  He has a vision of Asia, of Jerusalem,
of the temple of Nineveh, of the feast of Belshazzar.
The whole of the Old Testament is before him.  He
shudders as he advances under those gloomy vaults,
when suddenly the cross of the Saviour meets his
eyes, and the Calvary and Mount Tabor rise before
him, the one with the  ith  the sublimity of its sufferings,
and the other with all its hopes, its consoling promises and its final glorification. This is the religious
aspect of the building, but it has also its political
physiognomy.
It has been said with some felicity of expression
that the Escorial was the capitol of the Inquisition.
To some imaginations it may look like a jail, out
of which the genius of progress, if once incarcerated
in it, could never escape; or it may be taken with
its frowning towers for a fortress, into which Philip
hoped that new ideas and innovations would not
venture to penetrate, and which even the whirlwind
of revolutions would not dare to assail. It certainly
has the stamp, and might be accepted as the type of
the immutability of the Catholic Church.  Perhaps
Philip persuaded himself that the one hundred and
thirty monks whom he had established so near his




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           65
bed-chamber, who prayed for him and did penance
night and day on his behalf, might be expiatory
victims sufficient to atone for his sins. Who knows
that he may not have thought that he could thus strike
a balance-sheet between Heaven and himself, in which
much might remain to his credit, and Heaven turn
out to be his debtor? Be it as it may, the Escorial
is singularly emblematical of Philip and of the country over which he ruled. Spain, Philip, and the
Escorial so naturally harmonize together, that it is
hardly possible to conceive their separate existence.
5




66            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
CHAPTER III.
PHILIP had a cultivated mind and a pure taste in
the fine arts. He was considered a good judge of
Latin compositions, and was sometimes consulted by
authors in that language on questions of prosody and
on the propriety of certain idiomatic expressions,
although perhaps it was but artful flattery on their
part.  He was acquainted with several modern
languages, and was fond of books, as is evidenced by
his formation of the magnificent library of the Escorial. He was no mean connoisseur in painting and
architecture. A daub'would not have been palmed
upon him under the prestige of a celebrated name.
He corresponded with men who had made themselves
illustrious by their science, and he professed much
esteem for erudition in general. But, nevertheless,
he issued an edict by which he condemned to perpetual exile, or to the loss of all their earthly possessions, any of his subjects who should leave the realm
to pursue their studies in the colleges, universities
or schools of other kingdoms. He was afraid of the
infiltration of foreign ideas into Spain. He patronized science and literature on condition that they
should be well used to the bit and whip, like docile and




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         67
thoroughly trained horses, fattened and groomed in his
stables to pull his coach with a stately and decorous
step on State occasions. Poetry might tune its lyre
as it pleased, to sing the loves of piping shepherds
and fugitive nymphs, or describe the social manners
of the age, or of former times, in comedies and
novels. The imagination was permitted to take its
flight according to the strength of its wings, but it
was bound not to alight on any ground which might
possibly fall within the domain of State affairs, or
of the Catholic Church. The philosopher, the theologian, the astronomer, the jurist, the geologist, the
student, or explorer in whatever field of science,
were still more restricted than the poet. How could
it be otherwise, when no man could publish one
single idea without putting this question to himself:
What will the King or the Inquisition think of it?
Approbation might bring no reward, and disapprobation was sure to send a victim to the dungeon, the
stake, or the scaffold. Philip may be said to have
loved science after the fashion of the Sultan in the
Arabian Tales, who caused to be strangled in the
morning the Sultana of the preceding night. He
embraced Science as long as she ministered to his
purposes and served him as a willing slave, in the
glimmering dawn of the intellectual atmosphere
which he liked, but as soon as the light which is
inherent in her threatened to break out into an
illumination, the axe of the executioner extinguished
it in blood.




68            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
The person of Philip has been as variously described by historians and chroniclers as his character.' To some he is Hyperion, to others a satyrhalf beast, half man. The truth is between the two
representations. As he stands before posterity,
brought again into life by the pencil of Titian, when
the bloom of youth had not yet faded before the
sallow tints of disease, and before the smooth brow
had been wrinkled by age, by care and thought, he
is not destitute of comeliness. The light yellow of
his hair and beard, his fair and delicate complexion,
would remind us of his German extraction, even
without the assistance of the famous thick underlip
of his Austrian race, which mars the symmetry of
his lineaments. Another defect was the protrusion
of his lower jaw, which was more marked than in
his father's face, to which his own bore a strong resemblance, although having a less intellectual cast.
It gave him a heavier and duller look, and partook
more of animalism. His eyebrows approached each
other too closely over the root of his nose, but that
nose was thin and aquiline. Behind the cold, pensive and even sad expression of his blue eyes as
they settle in fixed repose on him who gazes on the
monarch's portrait, there seems to lurk something
sinister, which sends a chilling sensation to the blood.
His forehead was finely developed, and gave the
assurance of high intellectual powers. His stature
was below the middle size; his figure was slight
and spare, but in his limbs there was beauty of




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           69
proportion and shape. He was scrupulously neat
in his dress, which was rich and elegant, although
of a sable color that seemed to be in harmony with
the complexion of his thoughts. It always consisted
of black satin or velvet, of which his shoes were also
made. The only ornament which he generally wore
was the superb collar of the Golden Fleece, which
hung from his neck to his breast.. A black cap
with feathers covered his head and completed his
costume. In this dark livery, amidst the gorgeous
train of his nobles resplendent with jewels and all
the colors of the rainbow, he, with his moody brow,
looked like the picture of night followed by the
starry host of Heaven.
The boy in Philip had prognosticated what the
man would be. There were in the sapling clear indications of the strength and vast proportions of the
future oak. It might, perhaps, be more proper to
say that Philip never was young. If youth was in
his body, it never was in his soul. A boy, slow of
speech, frigid in his demeanor, without any of the
occasional sallies of his age, saturnine like a misanthrope, reserved like a diplomatist, so self-possessed as
to be rarely off his guard, is a portentous anomaly.
He may be said to be prematurely old, and a sort
of moral prodigy to be wondered at and pitied.
With such a temper, with the ambition which he
had, with his fierce love of power, it may readily be
supposed that he was, as his father wished, easily
trained to business, for which, besides, he had a




70            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
strong natural disposition. Furthermore, he had
the good fortune to have in his imperial parent the
best of guides, under whom he served, if I may use
the expression, the apprenticeship of kingcraft.
With a view, no doubt, of initiating his son to the
art of governing, Charles, on leaving Spain for one
of his last continental expeditions, had made him
regent in his absence. By a short extract from one
of the admonitory letters of Charles to Philip, we
can judge of the excellence of the tuition administered by the father to the son: "The Duke of
Alva," wrote Charles, "is the ablest statesman and
the best soldier I have in my dominions.  Consult
him, above all, in military affairs; but do not depend on him entirely in these or in any other matters.
Depend on no one but yourself. The Grandees will
be but too prompt to secure your favor, and through
you to govern the land.  But if you are thus governed, it will be your ruin. The mere suspicion of
it will do you infinite prejudice. Make use of all;
but lean exclusively on none. In your perplexities,
ever trust in your Maker. Have no care but for
Him."  One can hardly study the life of Philip,
without being satisfied that he bettered some of
these  instructions. He  certainly depended " on
none but himself," although fond of consulting others.
But if in his perplexities he " trusted in his Maker,"
he no less trusted in himself, in the public executioner, in the fagots of the Inquisition, in the secret
blow of the dagger, and in the withering effects of




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           71
the poisonous cup.  "Have no care but for Him
alone," wrote Charles. Philip obeyed, but modified
the precept. He had no care but for God, save the
King; and if, throughout life, the King persuaded
himself, as we think he did, that he served only the
cause of God, and fought none but His battles, it
was, it must be admitted, by incasing himself in a
panoply furnished by the armory of the powers of
darkness.
In that same letter of paternal advice, the Emperor
cautioned Philip against yielding to the blandishments of libertinism, which, syren-like, would lead
him to perdition by emasculating his body and putting the seal of reprobation  on his soul.  This
highly moral instruction, although coming from a
source which Philip respected more than any other,
did not save him from  the contamination of more
than one vicious amour and adulterous connection;
but, unlike the monarchs of the epoch, he threw a
decorous veil over his frailties. No woman ever
exercised any real influence over him, and his dalliance with beauty was attended with the same mystery which shrouded his other actions. Philip sedulously guarded his name against the pollution of
any amorous scandal as unbefitting the uniformly
religious color which he wished to give to his life;
and as derogating from his kingly dignity. Although
in gallantries he may have sinned more than his
father, yet he would not, like him, have blazoned out
to the world any foibles of the kind and acknowl



72            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
edged a natural son, had that son been a hero like
Don John of Austria. Philip was not the man to be
driven by the logic of contrition, or any impulse of
the heart, into the public confession of an error, and
to make amends for it. He was too much of a royal
Grandison, with a dash of Joseph Surface. No
Falstaff could have been his boon companion,
and could have induced him, in the intoxication of
wit and mirth, to perpetrate any of the follies of the
Prince of Wales. In his youth he had been one of
those well-behaved lads who give to old spinster
aunts the infallible promise of a virtuous and rectangular life, and Charles had written to him after the
fashion of most fathers who have decent boys: " On
the whole, I will admit I have much reason to be
satisfied with your conduct. But I would have you
perfect; and, to speak frankly, whatever other persons may tell you, you have some things to mend
yet. Your confessor and old preceptor, the Bishop
of Carthagena, is a good man, as all the world
knows; but I hope that he will take better care of
your conscience than he did of your studies, and
that he will not show quite as accommodating a
temper in regard to the former as he did to the
latter."  We beg leave, with the utmost respect, to
differ with the Emperor in this matter. We think
that the proficiency of Philip in his studies was, for a
royal pupil, creditable enough to the old bishop. As
to the education which that ecclesiastic gave to the
conscience which he had under his care, the world




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           73
knows the results.  We fancy that Philip always
held his eccentric and peculiarly constituted conscience in his own keeping, and that his priestly
preceptor found him more refractory on that subject
than in learning his lessons in Latin prosody.
Philip was but little over sixteen years old when
he married Mary of Portugal, who died shortly after
giving birth to the unfortunate Don Carlos.  He
cared very little for Mary of England, his second
wife, who doted on him; but he seems to have been,
as far as it was in such a nature, a good and indulgent husband to Isabel of France and to Anne of
Austria. The writers of fiction have wronged Philip
when representing him  as the Blue Beard of the
nursery tale.  He has too many real crimes to
answer for, without being charged with imaginary
guilt. All his wives were exemplary, as such; and
the supposed amours of Isabel and Don Carlos,
which are acceptable themes to poetry, must be rejected by the truth-loving justice of history. It
may seem strange that such an unlovable character
as Philip should have secured the sincere attachment of his connubial partners, but such is the fact.
It is related that, on his being once dangerously ill,
his fourth and last wife, Anne of Austria, implored
the Almighty to spare a life so important to the
welfare of the Kingdom and of the Church, and, instead of it, to accept the sacrifice of her own.
"Heaven," says the chronicler, "listened to her
prayer.  The King recovered, and the Queen fell




74            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
ill of a disorder which, in a few days, terminated
fatally." Isabel of France, his third wife, had been
looked upon by the country of her adoption as an
angelic being, as perfection on earth, and she was
literally adored by the Spaniards. The soft emanations of her gentle heart seemed to warm the icy
atmosphere of Philip's court. When the sun hangs
on the confines of the Western horizon, a light, rosy
cloud oft comes down from heaven and diffuses itself
round the snow-capped diadem of the monarch of
the Alps. The Titan is lulled to repose, and smooths
his rugged features into celestial loveliness. But
soon the vaporous light disappears, and nothing is
left but increasing darkness, with the terrors of the
glacier and the avalanche. The benighted traveler
shudders, and his heart grows cold. Thus felt Spain
when Isabel died, and when, on his exalted and isolated throne above his subjects, Philip loomed up
an object of deeper gloom and more terrific aspect.
It may easily be conceived that such a man as
Philip  could  not have favorites like the effete
Henry III. of France, or friends like the magnanimous Henry IV., the white-plumed hero  of
Navarre, both his contemporaries.  He had none
but fawning courtiers around his person, for whom
his will was law in all matters, with the exception
of the haughty and iron Duke of Alva. The subtlest of them all was one of the ministers, Ray
Gomez, prince of Eboli, who from his boyhood to
his death after a long career, had been the com



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           75
panion of Philip, whom he had studied to the very
marrow of his bones, whose humors he thoroughly
understood, and whose favor he retained to the last.
But Ruy Gomez was neither a favorite nor a friend.
He was a most skillful clerk, a convenient, tool, a
discreet and able adviser, a safe confidant, a pleasant
attendant, whose time-piece was always so set as to
strike the hour which the King desired to be marked
on the dial. It is probable, however, that he was
really liked by Philip, for he never was dismissed
from office with one of those withering smiles which
that Prince was known to keep in reserve for those
who had long appeared to enjoy his confidence and
patronage-a smile which killed as surely as the
far-famed poison of the Borgias. It is true that the
wife of Gomez, the Princess of Eboli, may have been
the lightning-rod which warded off the thunderbolt
from  her husband's breast.  But her subsequent
misfortunes, inflicted by her royal paramour, leave
it in doubt to decide whether Philip's love and
Philip's hatred were not twin-sister furies, not easily
distinguished from each other, and whose embrace
was equally fatal.
In very few acts of his life did Philip ever forget
his exalted station. The king and the man in him
were seldom found apart from each other, and the
man had a kind of fanatical reverence for the king.
Therefore, although personally of a frugal and unostentatious disposition, he deemed that his royal
dignity required a household clothed in splendor,




76            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
and his was constituted on a scale of stateliness and
magnificence which  far surpassed any other in
Europe. It amiiounted in the number of retainers
to no less than fifteen hundred persons. The most
rigid and pompous etiquette was established. Forty
pages, sons of the most illustrious houses of Castile,
waited on his person. Dukes, whose pedigree went
back to Hercules and the demi-gods of fabulous antiquity, were his major-domos and gentlemen of the
bed-chamber.  The chief muleteer and a host of
officers with menial titles were nobles and cavaliers
of gentle blood. The establishment of the Queen was
in the same gorgeous style, and she was always attended by a train of no less than twenty-six ladies
in waiting. All this display was probably the result of calculation rather than of taste, and was, in
Philip's estimation, the necessary appendage to one
who aspired to be King of Kings.
Always clad from head to foot in an armor of impenetrable and chilling reserve, Philip had too much
respect for himself to be overbearing, capricious, or
impatient with his servants. It is said that he was
kind and liberal to them, and that there was more
than one occasion on which he showed himself with
them a good-natured gentleman. For instance, once
he had been writing late through the night some important dispatch to be sent in the morning. Exhausted by fatigue, his Secretary had fallen into a
doze; and when Philip handed the document to him,
with a request to throw sand over it, this function



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           77
ary, in the confusion of the moment, emptied the
inkstand on the royal manuscript. Philip coolly remarked:' It would have been better to have used the
sand;" and, without one word of complaint or impatience, betook himself to rewriting the whole of the
letter. Nevertheless, we cannot but imagine that
his servants were not much at ease under the eye
of such a master. One of them, we are sure, must
have remembered to the last day of his life the message which Philip sent to him, on discovering that
he had disturbed the methodical arrangement in
which papers had been left in the royal closet.
"Tell him," said Philip to an attendant, " that were
it not in consideration of the services of his uncle,
who has placed him near my person, I would have
ordered his head to be cut off."  This anecdote offsets the other. Here the lion, there the lamb. On
another occasion, when on the return to Spain of
Don John of Austria, after the battle of Lepanto,
Philip had conducted him to the apartment of the
Queen to be welcomed home by her, it happened that
the sword of the Prince, on his bowing low to her
Majesty, was by that motion of his body suddenly
pushed back in such a way as violently to strike the
King, who stood behind him, right on the forehead
above the eye. The blow was such as to stun and
fell him to the ground. The consternation was indescribable. Don John was beside himself, and profuse in his expressions of deep regret and sorrow.
" There is no cause for such concern on your part,"




78            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
observed the King, with his usual phlegmatic demeanor; " it is an accident for which you are not
responsible."  "0, sire," exclaimed Don John, " if
it had been worse, I would have thrown myself out
of the window."  "And why? it would not have
remedied anything," replied King Statue, with the
same cold and metallic tone of voice.
Philip was exceedingly methodical, systematic and
precise. So carefully set in order were all his voluminous papers, that he could at any time indicate
where any one of them was to be found. It was a
rule which he rigidly enforced-that there should be
a place for everything, and that everything should
be in its place. He fully understood the value of
time, and economized it as a miser does his money.
His occupations and even his pleasures were regulated with the utmost precision. The festive table
had no attraction for him. He was prudent and abstemious in his diet. After the slight repast which
constituted his dinner, he gave audience to his subjects and received their memorials.  On those occasions he attempted to be gracious; but graciousness
sat awkwardly on Philip. It was an unnatural conjunction-a ray of the sun imprisoned in an icicle.
He listened patiently, it is true; but his countenance
was so exceedingly grave, that the boldest was
abashed, and felt as if the ground was giving way
under his feet. The hand of the supplicant trembled
on his delivering his petition, his tongue faltered in
pressing his suit, and the chilling tone with which




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           79
Philip said: " Compose yourself," increased his confusion. It was as if a marble statue had spoken, and
the suitor was glad to back out of the presence of
petrified royalty, and to retreat where something
like the intonations of the human voice were heard,
and human sympathies expressed. Even a Papal
Nuncio forgot in his presence what he had to say;
and although Philip kindly said, " If you will bring
it in writing, I will read it myself, and expedite your
business," it is not improbable that the representative of the Pope thought this defender of the faith
and dutiful son of the Church as grim-looking a personage as any of those dreaded beings whom she
was occasionally called upon to exorcise with bell,
book, and holy water.
Philip was said to be indolent because he had a
horror of locomotion and could seldom be prevailed
upon to travel, even when it was required by the
most pressing exigencies of State. But this indolence of the body was combined with the most restless activity of the mind. He toiled day and night,
and never was known to utter an exclamation of
weariness. He seemed to delight in the multitude
of business, as a lion-hearted warrior grows more
fierce when the battle thickens upon him. Perhaps
Philip, who boasted that, without moving from his
closet, he shook the world with a scrap of paper,
was pleased with the idea that he personated Fate
immutably seated on a rock, whilst weaving the web
of human destinies. As he advanced in age, he be



80            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
came less easy of access and more averse to motion.
His public audiences were infrequent, and, in the beginning of summer, he would escape from them by
retreating to one of his country palaces, particularly
to the Escorial, his beloved creation; not, however,
to admire the beauties of nature, but to be more
free from the contact of man. When in Madrid, he
shrank from the eye of the public as from that of a
basilisk, commonly went out in a close carriage, and
waited for the congenial shades of night to return
to his palace with the silent wings of an ill-omened
bird of darkness.
The Cortes made it a matter of complaint that he
withdrew from the eyes of his subjects, and would
have been well pleased if he had occasionally appeared in different parts of Spain, to judge for himself of the resources and wants of the country. But
he paid no more attention to the representations of
the Cortes on this subject, than he generally did to
every other on which they addressed him. He was
willing that they should remonstrate humbly and
respectfully, provided it was understood by them to
be a mere ceremony. It was a sort of arrangement
with which he was even gratified; for it kept up an
appearance of liberty on the side of the people, and
of benevolent condescension on his part. He continued, however, to make himself more and more
invisible, and contented himself with being felt. As
a recreation and exercise, he would sometimes go
to one of his country-seats near Madrid, where he




PHILIP II. OF S?-AIN.           81
would shoot with a gun or a cross-bow at the game
which was driven to his presence.  Even on those
occasions Philip, who always carried with him  a
mass of papers, would soon turn away from  the
sport, to examine into some serious or intricate matters of State.  He was too mighty and too keen a
hunter of men to find any relish in the less exciting
pursuit of the wild beasts of the forest. But there
was one amusement for which Philip had a real passion. It was one which the Inquisition, who knew
well the royal inclinations, took care to afford him
on days of extraordinary rejoicings, such as the celebration of his marriages, the birth of his children,
or any thanksgiving for some unusual blessing.
That entertainment was the burning of heretics.
The rank and qualifications of the victims, with other
circumstances, were generally such as to enhance
the interest of the lurid scene, and there were in all
the details of the offered feast an appropriate selection and magnificence of horrors which did credit to
the dramatic skill of the Inquisition, and which were
intended to produce the desired impression on the
royal spectator. If Philip felt any emotion whatever on witnessing such exhibitions, his countenance
did not allow the secret to transpire.  There he sat
in conspicuous pre-eminence, the observed of all,
stern, silent, almost motionless, and to all appearances with his usual stony impassiveness. We imagine that his satisfaction must have diffused itself
inwardly, and must have derived additional zest
6




82            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
from the conviction that, on these occasions, pleasure
and duty went hand-in-hand together like a loving
married couple returning from the parish church. It
is this perfect accord of his conscience and his taste
which perhaps recommnended these spectacles to his
preference.  Who knows but he may have thought
that those victims, sacrificed to Jehovah and snatched
from the perdition of heresy, would rise with the
white robes of innocence from the purifying flames,
and would attend him as a body-guard when he
should appear before the judgment-seat of the Eternal, circling in serried ranks round his sins as a protective phalanx of expiation? Be it as it may, when
with the mind's eye we see Philip presiding at these
holocausts of fanaticism, we cannot but fancy that
there stands before our dismayed vision one of those
horrible Mexican deities of his own dominions, whose
nostrils were regaled with the fumes of blood, and
whose sight was rejoiced with the offering of warm
and still palpitating hearts, torn by priestly hands
from living breasts.
The Marquis of Custine, in his work entitled
" Spain Under Ferdinand VII.," says in relation to
Philip: " This King, who used his power on earth to
prepare for himself a seat in Heaven, may have
often deceived himself, but in his errors there was
at least nothing that was mean. If he was cruel, it
was after the fashion of one who performs a duty.
Therefore the terror with which I am inspired by
his name will not be unmixed with pity, as long as




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           83
it is not fully proved to me that he ever committed
a crime which did not mainly originate in a scruple
of conscience." If this be true, it would solve the
enigma of the virtuous tranquillity and magnificent
fortitude of his death. We may be permitted, however, to exclaim: What a terrible conscience that
man had! From some preceding remarks it may
be seen, that we are not disposed to reject altogether
tbE  view taken by the French author of Philip's
character.  In some of his acts, crimsoned with
blood as they are, Philip may have been guided by
his conscience.  It must be remembered that he
more than once asseverated that he would surrender his kingdoms —nay —life itself, rather than
reign over heretics; and if he put Don Carlos to
death, he may really have thought with his apologist, the priest Salazar de Mendoza, blasphemous as
the sentiment is, that " in making a sacrifice of his
son, he  rivaled  in  sublimity that of Isaac by
Abraham, and  even  of Jesus  Christ by  the
Almighty."  This would be a remarkable aberration of the intellect, but it is not inexplicable in
Philip, when it is kept in mind that his royal line
sprang from insanity in the person of his grandmother, Joanna of Castile, and that it ended as it
had begun-in the idiotic madness of the wretched
Charles the Second, the last scion of the House of
Austria on the throne of Spain.
The memory of Philip is more popular in Spain
than that of Charles V., although his reign is far less




84            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
brilliant. The reason of this is, that the Spaniards
have always considered Philip as one of them, and
Charles as a foreigner, as one not identified with
their interests, their language, their feelings, their
prejudices, their habits and their morals; whilst
Philip was emphatically a production of their country-one to the manner born-and the embodiment
of their nationality. Charles was rather the Emperor of Germany than the King of Spain; whilst the
crown inherited from  Ferdinand and Isabel was
more precious in Philip's estimation than all the
other kingdoms of the earth. Spain was for Charles
no more than one of the gems of his imperial jewelbox; for Philip it was the principal gem, and far
more valuable than the jewel-box itself, with all
the rest of its contents. His reign was absolutely
and exclusively Spanish. Neither in his Court nor
in his councils did he allow the influence of foreigners to prevail. His father had done the reverse.
So identified was Philip with Spain, that he could
hardly breathe and live when not within its hallowed frontiers.  When he went beyond them, which
happened but rarely, he seemed out of his element,
and hastened to return, frequently at the sacrifice
of important interests, to the congenial atmosphere
for which he panted. When reading his history,
we see what powerful reasons united at times to call
him out of Spain, and what pressing and incessant
solicitations added their force to the influence of
these reasons. We know what promises he made




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           85
to yield to them, and we also know that he never
could  summon resolution enough to keep those
engagements and to lose sight of his beloved Escorial. Charles, on the contrary, felt uncomfortable in
Spain, and never was more cheerful than when
rushing to his Flemish or German dominions. In
the language of a Spanish historian, if Philip had
subjugated Europe, he would have made it Spanish,
whilst Charles would have made it German. Under
the reign of Charles, the blood and wealth of Spain
were lavished to support German or other foreign
interests, and in furtherance of the personal or
family ambition of the Sovereign. Spain occupied a
subordinate position in the plans of the great Emperor.  In  Philip's head and heart Spain was
paramount to everything else. It is the consciousness of this fact which has almost endeared the
memory of Philip to every Spaniard, notwithstanding his crimes and the terror attached to his name.
Spaniards will easily forgive many sins in one whom
they consider so intensely Spanish. Hence they
complain that Philip is treated with undue severity
by foreign writers. They say that his general character was at least no worse than that of most of the
Sovereigns of the epoch. They point to Henry VIII.
of England, who, with the same pen with which he
wrote against Luther, issued a decree by which he
adopted his doctrines, made them the religious creed
of the State, and gave himself to his subjects the example of the abjuration of a former faith, not because




86            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
he had changed his convictions conscientiously, but
because the Pope had refused to sanction his divorce
from a virtuous wife. Henry VIII.!-who successively sent to the scaffold the objects of his insatiable
lust, and who, with impartial ferocity, condemned to
the stake seventy thousand Catholics and Protestants. They ask if Cardinal Fisher and the illustrious Thomas More and many other victims were
not as guiltless as Horn and Egmont. They ask if
Cardinal Wolsey was not truer to Henry than Antonio Perez to Philip, and if the King of England
was a better man than the King of Spain?  What
of bloody Mary?  Did she not send her sister
Elizabeth to a dungeon, and threaten her life? What
became of Lady Grey, of her father and husband?
What became of Warwick, of Piat and of Bishop
Cranmer?  Are they less to be pitied than Montigny? Were not hundreds of her subjects burned
without mercy?  Had she not organized an army
of hangmen whose standard was the gallows? Had
not, under her reign, the axe of the public executioner become the sceptre of England?  What of
Scotland?  Were her rulers more tender-hearted?
Were not adultery  and murder seated on her
throne, whilst round it the weird sisters, with their
choppy fingers on their lips, led their hideous dance?
Was not the great Elizabeth as perfidious as Philip,
and far more licentious? Was she not as cruel, she
whom poetry represents as a "fair vestal throned
by the West," but whom history brands as "the




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            87
mistress of nine acknowledged lovers?  Her father
beheaded his wives.  Was she less infamous and
heartless when doing the same office to her paramours? Philip despotically struck off the head of the
patriot Lanuza.  Was Elizabeth less arbitrary in
many of her acts? What account has she to render
of Norfolk, of Essex, of Raleigh, and of so many
other illustrious magnates who had adorned her
court and basked in her smiles?  When Philip
offered a reward for the head of Orange, one of his
rebellious subjects, was he more criminal than Elizabeth, when, under the hypocritical appearance of a
trial, she, with feigned tears, murdered her kinswoman, who was her guest, and a crowned head like
herself?  Had not the two heroes, Alexander Farnese and Don John of Austria, entertained the full
conviction, founded on what they considered undeniable proofs, that she had bribed assassins to take
away their lives in the Netherlands? *
Turning to France, the Spanish historians inquire
if her chivalrous Francis I. had not many crimes to
answer for. Was not his ceaseless persecution of
the Constable of Bourbon  merely  to serve the
vengeance of the rejected love of his mother, as
reprehensible as it was fatal to France? Did he not,
to meet the expenses occasioned by his extravagant
tastes and unrestrained passions, put up the royal
favors at auction, even in the distribution of judicial
* History of Spain, by Modesto de Lafuente.




88            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
offices? Did he not convert his Court into a place
of shameless prostitution? Did he not, when Diana
of Poitiers, the wife of one of his most devoted nobles,
knelt at his feet to beg for the life of her father,
make adultery the condition of the solicited pardon?
Did Philip ever do anything more basely horrible?
Was Francis less imperious than the Spanish Sovereign, when he said to his Parliament:   I consent
to your addressing remonstrances to me; but when
I do not choose to defer to them, I want instant obedience? This warning ought to suffice. Remember
that you derive your authority from me. Do not
imagine yourselves to be the Roman Senate."  Did
not Francis, whilst he was keeping up a correspondence with Melancthon and inviting him to establish
his domicile in France, whilst he was forming treaties of alliance with the Sultan and the Protestant
Princes of Germany against Catholic powers, have
six Protestants burned in his presence in Paris
with refinements of cruelty unknown in Madrid, and
after having exhibited himself in a farcical procession
surrounded with all sorts of relics in which he certainly did not believe like the fanatic Philip; for he
had once threatened the Pope to become a Protestant like his " dear brother " Henry VIII. of England?
Did he not declare on that occasion, as Philip did
afterward in imitation of such a precedent, that' he would treat his children in the same manner,
if they became tainted with heresy?"  Did he not
declare that those who should not denounce heretics




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            89
should also be burned?  Did he not grant to the
denunciators of those who should swerve from the
Catholic faith one-fourth of all the property of the
accused in case of conviction? Was not the Count
of Montecuculli horribly tortured and then quartered
on mere suspicions?  Was Francis a faithful observer of his plighted word?  Was he bound
by the most solemn oath? Did he not die at last
the victim  of his crapulous amours?  Did Philip
ever give to society such examples of demoralization?  Was it not of Francis that a French historian has said: " France will long remember his reign
stained with all the vices which disgrace those inconstant, credulous, and vain monarchs who are incapable of acquiring experience or the knowledge of
men? "   What of Henry II. and of his horrible
edicts against the Protestants of France? What of
their wholesale massacre which he had planned?
What of his morals? What of the infernal Catherine de Medici?  What of Charles IX. with his St
Bartholomew? What of the famous window from
which he amused himself with firing at his subjects
as if they had been lawful game for his carbine?
What of Henry III., whom his own countrymen had
surnamed "Herod?"    What of his impurities?
What of his assassination of the Duke of Guise and
of the Cardinal of Lorraine? Passing in review the
other Sovereigns of Europe at that time, the apolo* Velly. Histoire de France, p. 147, vol. VII.




90             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
gists of Philip come to the conclusion that he was
not so pre-eminently wicked as to justly concentrate
upon himself all the hatred of mankind, and deserve
a severer judgment from history than all the rest of
his royal brothers.  They seem to contend that bad
example and the spirit of the age must in part be
answerable for the crimes of Philip.  All this may
be true, but there is this difference between Philip
and those personages whom we have enumerated.
We remain conscious, when reading their history,
that they may have been carried away by passion,
and that their guilt is not incapable of remorse, of
repentance, of atonement, of self-condemnation.  We
feel that there is flesh and blood in them; they are
criminal after the fashion of human beings; Philip,
after the fashion of a demon who has nothing in
common with our race in his cool and scientific premeditation.  That man is surrounded with mysterious horrors like something unearthly. There is in
him no soul, no heart, no feeling; all is dead. The
vampire is no longer fabulous, but stands before us;
and our awe increases when we see him gorged with
blood, reposing in the lap of crime with the selfapprobation of the performance of duty, the complacency of fancied righteousness, and the sweet tranquillity of conscious innocence.
Another reason for the popularity of Philip's
memory in Spain is the recollection that, during his
reign, the preponderance of that country in Europe
reached its climax. For the first time since the fall




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           91
of the dynasty of Rhoderic the Goth, the Iberian
Peninsula had been united under one sceptre-a
consummation which had been long desired, and which
to this dav is the aspiration nearest the heart of
every Spanish statesman.  Besides, by her arms
and her literature the influence of Spain had become
supreme over the civilized world.  After having
added to her immense colonial acquisitions the vast
possessions of Portugal in Asia, Africa, and America, well might she boast that the sun never set in
her dominions. So great had been the power of
Philip at one time, that it was apprehended he
might realize the dream of a universal monarchy.
Twice his armies had marched to the capital of
France, which he used to designate as " his beautiful
city of Paris," and which he had once garrisoned
with his troops. All eyes for years had been turned
with fear toward Madrid. Spain was then what
France became under Louis the Fourteenth, and
under Napoleon the Great in the 19th century-a
colossus before whom the world trembled. With a
handful of men she had performed exploits and
accomplished conquests which staggered belief, and
threw into the shade the most fabulous achievements
of the heroes of antiquity. Not only had she expelled the infidels from her bosom after eight hundred
years of indefatigable and incessant wars, but she
had become the bulwark of Christianity at Lepanto,
at Malta, in Hungary, wherever the Crescent had
threatened the Cross. The Pactolus of mythology




92             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
literally flowed at her feet from the mountains of
Peru and Mexico. Her fleets lorded over the seas.
The heavy weight of the Spanish heel had been felt
everywhere, like that of the Roman in the days of
Augustus, and the tone of command of Spanish
chiefs had sounded as haughty as any which had
ever issued from the Eternal City. Besides, the
superiority of her statesmanship and of her literature was universally acknowledged. She gave the
tone to Europe.  Her language was the one which
had spread the most. Her manners, her costumes,
her fashions, her tastes, her ideas preponderated in
the saloons of diplomacy, in the mansions of the
noble and wealthy, in the humble dwellings of the
poor, in the studio of the artist, in the attics of the
poet, in the theatres, and in all the fields of literature.  Even now, in many of the cities of France,
the traces of Spanish dominion are still visible in
the architecture which meets the eye of the traveler.
At that epoch, the power and the glory of Spain had
reached their meridian splendor, to be obscured
ever since in their rapid decline, until lately arrested. Philip's reign had been the culminating point
at which her fortune, like a dazzling meteor, had
rested awhile before sliding downward, to her mortification, into the morasses and quagmires of national
debility and decay. Hence Spaniards cling to the
recollections of that reign with patriotic tenacity,
and seem anxious to ward off from its escutcheon all
that might dim  its lustre.  We sympathize with




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          93
what is praiseworthy in this feeling; but, guided by
the impartiality and the love of truth which ought
to be the main characteristics of the historian, we
shall now take a brief view of the long reign of
Philip, and ascertain what amount of commendation
and censure it deserves at our hands.
Broken down by infirmities, defeated in most of
his ambitious schemes, Charles V. had abdicated the
imperial crown, and delivered into the younger
hands of Philip the sceptre of Spain. Charles, when
he ascended the throne of Ferdinand and Isabel,
had found that country in a state of transformation
and transition. All the small Christian kingdoms
which had divided the Peninsula for centuries, and
had been so long waging war against each other,
had been absorbed into one. The last of the Moslem principalities had fallen with Granada. The
sword of Chivalry, in a struggle which for its duration was without a precedent, had reconquered for
the Cross one of the most beautiful parts of Europe,
from the Pyrenees to the banks of the Tagus, and to
the rock of Gibraltar. Unknown seas had been
explored; unknown countries had been discovered;
unknown kingdoms, the hereditary domains of powerful princes, had been subdued in a new world, and
millions of infidels, either converted to the Christian
faith, or driven away from the bloody altars of their
idols, when not crushed into destruction under the
iron-clad foot of their conquerors. A steady stream
of gold, broad and deep, was flowing into the lap of




94            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
Spain, as the guerdon for her valor and enterprise.
Impatient of repose, bursting as it were with exuberant strength, she had leaped over the Pyrenees,
and fought France on her own territory with signal
success. She had crossed the Mediterranean, subjugated Sicily, invaded Italy, and although confronted
there by the intrepidity and skill of French legions,
she had proved irresistible, and the kingdom of Naples had remained the trophy of her prowess. She
had landed in Africa in pursuit of the dismayed
Moors; the battle-cry of the Christian knight had
been shouted on the ruins of Carthaginian splendor,
and the flag of Castile raised over the soil which had
given birth to Hannibal.  At Rome, in the Vatican,
her desires were beginning to assume the shape of
orders, and she had taught the Pope that the kingdoms of the earth were no longer fiefs of the Tiara.
Europe was taken by surprise and amazed at the
sudden apparition of the Power that had so abruptly
started into active life from behind those gigantic
ribs of the earth which Providence seems to have
extended, like a massive fortification, from the Mediterranean shore to the Atlantic, with some special
purpose of protection to a chosen people. If Spain
was not Pallas, springing from the disrupted brow of
Jupiter, and received by Olympus and admiring
nations, as the acknowledged goddess of wisdom in
the panoply of war, she certainly was the heroine
of Christianity, wielding in her robust faith the lance
of Ithuriel, sallying in the romantic spirit of true




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           95
chivalry in quest of adventures for the honor of the
Mother of God, wearing her colors as those of the
proclaimed Lady of her love and allegiance, and believing, like the Hebrews, in the special and constant
interposition of Heaven. Such was the appearance
which she presented externally, and well might
Europe be struck with admiration and fear. It was
no mean champion who had entered the arena, and
flung down his gauntlet in the contest of national
ambition and supremacy.
Internally, Charles had found royal authority
stronger than it had been for centuries, and reposing
on a solid basis-that of an undisputed hereditary
succession rooted in the affection and veneration of
a loyal and enthusiastic people.  God and the King
might be said to be the motto of every true Spaniard.
A turbulent, proud and wealthy nobility no longer
overshadowed the throne, but, curbed into respectful
and devoted allegiance, had become the Corinthian
pillars of social architecture, instead of being its
battering-rams.  The clergy, among whom salutary
reforms had taken place, and who had virtuous, enlightened and devout men at their head, were working in strict subordination to the Crown, and actively
engaged in propagating the Catholic faith, in reforming the people, and in striving to convert the recently conquered Moslem, although after having conmmitted the fatal and unchristian error of seducing
the pious Isabel into establishing the Inquisition.
That institution was, however, in its infancy, and




96             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
had not, therefore, begun to display the terrific vigor
which  afterward  struck  the world with terror.
The Commons were possessed of privileges, franchises and liberties which existed nowhere else at
the time, save, perhaps, in the Netherlands and
Switzerland; the peasantry were as brave, as courteous, as punctilious on the code of honor as the most
high-born and polished knight, and as proud and
dignified in their humble station as any Caesar who
ever wore the purple mantle. In the interior of the
land as on the sea-shore, in the cultivated field as in
the depth of the forest, on the mountain as on the
river bank, in villages as in cities, there had sprung
up a spirit of industry and enterprise which had
been unknown for many ages.  The sword of the
warrior, it is true, was still of primary importance
and an object of special admiration, but the loom of
the artisan and the plow of the husbandman had at
last attracted the attention of the rulers of the land.
Commerce, trade and manufactures were rising to
no slight degree of consideration.  In a country
hitherto convulsed with the shock of arms and irrigated with blood for centuries, a national literature
had suddenly sprung up, vigorous in its infancy, and
full of promises of future and lasting glory. The
fine arts, better appreciated than those of the mechanic order, had made their welcome appearance,
had been received not only as beloved and admired
guests, but had also been presented with letters of
naturalization, and were shedding their benign and




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          97
humanizing influence on the former scenes of protracted wars. Spaniards were no longer to be looked
upon as divided into petty tribes, temporarily associated in bands of rude cut-throats-now engaged
in an insane mutuality of slaughter-now uniting in
a holy league to endeavor to drive out of their native
soil the invaders who had, from the remotest antiquity, so long threatened them with entire annihilation.  They had aggregated themselves into a
single, powerful and polished nation, although dwelling in distant Kingdoms and Provinces which had
retained their own peculiar laws and characteristics.
It was rather a Confederacy of Sovereignties under
one ruler, than a consolidated Government. There
was unity in the head, it is true, but there was plurality and individuality in the limbs, organs and features of the associated and welded bodies. All the
elements of a vigorous nationality were at hand-a
territory capable of uniting on its surface almost all
the productions of the earth, teeming in its entrails
with all the metals required by the industry of man,
indented with an extraordinary number of magnificent harbors, and inclosed by seas and lofty mountains which protect it against the hostility of the rest
of mankind; an immemorial community of sufferings
and of triumphs, of humiliation and glory, of traditional and historical lore, of hatred for the foreign
foe, and a vast fund of that melancholy experience
which results from the evils of fratricidal struggles;
an intense love for old customs and habits, which
7




98            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
does not exclude those innovations demanded by the
march of civilization, but which, venerating the past
as the tomb of a cherished ancestry, secures thereby
to future generations prosperity at home, respect
abroad, and a long life in the land; a spirit of chivalry carried even to excess, but beautiful in its aberrations; the sacred importance of family ties and
the worship of the Household Gods taught from the
cradle, without which the social order is destitute of
stability and loses its most amiable charms; an innate spirit of religion, deeply imbedded in every
heart and almost incarnated in every Spaniard;
strong local attachments made sacred by the most
tender and cherished recollections, and invigorated
by the possession of much valued franchises and immunities; some of the provinces enjoying liberties
as great as now exist, in the nineteenth century, in
Great Britain, or in any country on the face of the
earth; tribunals of justice performing their functions with regularity and impartiality; a civil and
political administration operating with enlightened
economy, accommodating itself to local immunities,
customs and prejudices, but necessarily imperfect,
and founded on the erroneous ideas of the age; public education patronized by the throne and in a state
of remarkable progressiveness; universities and
schools, recently established, but already celebrated,
and in which men, and even women of the most
illustrious birth, lectured with becoming pride and
distinguished ability; a legislation, not uniform, it




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           99
is true, throughout the whole monarchy, but having
powerful elements of assimilation, as it derived its
main principles and features from the jurisprudence
of Rome, and the laws of the Goths which had been
gathered into a code, and which, translated into old
Castilian, had been disseminated through Spain,
although with manifold modifications to suit the
wants, wishes and interests of the former petty
Kingdoms into which the country had been subdivided. When looking at all the advantages showered upon Spain by a bounteous Providence, it
seems as if it would be impossible to the imbecility
or wickedness of man to prevent them from having
their natural effects, and from elevating the people
dwelling in that favored region to the most enviable
position among the nations of the world.
Under such circumstances, what was the mission
of Charles V., if properly understood? It was to
avail himself of all these resources, and of all the
elements of national prosperity which presented
themselves to his hand. It was to harmonize and
to perfect all the parts of that society which he
found already created and established, but which,
being lately regenerated under the genial influence
of virtue and genius, demanded all the progressive
ameliorations which such a condition required. By
all the means which an enlightened, humane and artful policy might have suggested, he had to reconcile
to their fate the Moorish and the Arab population
of the Southern and Eastern provinces of Spain,




100           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN
who by their skill in agriculture and in the mechanic
arts constituted an important portion of the wealth
of that country. He had to entice them into adopting the religion, laws, customs and usages of the
conquerors by a well-imagined system of blandishments, rewards, and protection. In this way a
fusion might have been operated, in the course of
time, between the hostile races. To attempt it would
at least have been statesmanlike; it would have
been time enough to fall back on the cruel measures
of compulsion, or even expulsion, if the work of
conciliation and fusion had been found impossible,
and if the continued existence of a heterogeneous
element had been deemed dangerous to the safety of
the State. It should have been the aim of Charles
to have kept in co-ordinate and healthful action the
principles of liberty and of legitimate authority
which he found co-existent in the land; to have given
uniformity to the civil legislation whilst ameliorating it in all its ramifications, and to have imparted
a durable unity to the former distinct Kingdoms of the
Iberian Peninsula, whilst avoiding the perils of too
much centralization; and in particular to have bent
all his diplomacy, or his military power, toward reuniting to Spain the Kingdom of Portugal, which had
been torn from  it, and which was like a branch
violently separated from the trunk of the majestic
oak on which nature had intended it to grow. It
should have been his policy to stimulate industry in
all its pursuits, to facilitate the intellectual growth




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         101
which had begun in the country; to encourage the
arts and literature; to expand the wings of commerce; to establish manufactures; to open canals
and roads, and make all those internal improvements which were so much needed; to organize the
immense colonial possessions of Spain, give them the
kind of government best adapted to their wants, put
in friendly connection the inhabitants of the two
hemispheres, and civilize by a paternal administration and a beneficial commercial intercourse between
the Old and the New World, the numerous population of her American domains. It was a vast and
magnificent field for a man whose brain and heart
had been equal to the task, or for a prince like
Peter the Great. Charles had seen what commerce
and the mechanic arts had done for his native Flanders. He ought to have profited by that practical
example of political economy, and his ambition
should have been to have introduced into Spain
the blessings of such a state of things. Then she
would have known how to use the new market which
Providence had given her in America. Agriculture,
commerce, the arts, and industry in all its branches,
could not but have had a languid existence in a
country in which war had been the normal condition
of society during eight hundred years, and when,
every day, the national existence of that country, its
language, its religion, its freedom, had been exposed
to be lost forever. What did Charles? He began
with destroying the public liberties which he found




102           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
flourishing, and with reducing to the insignificance
of imbecility the Cortes, who, before his reign, had
been full of life, energy and action, and a time-honored part of the Government. He established a
political and religious despotism in Spain, in order
to use her like a well-sharpened sword to carve his
way to the glittering bauble of imperial domination.
She was in his estimation nothing but a war-horse,
which could serve no better purpose than to enable
him to ride rough-shod over Kingdoms and Principalities. As Neptune is represented by the poets
of antiquity stirring in his fury the depths of the
ocean with his trident, convulsing its waves with
tempestuous winds, and lining its coasts with shipwrecks, thus Charles, in his mad ambition, wielded the sceptre of Spain with no other object than to
strike with it the bosom of Europe, from which, at
his bidding, issued forth desolating wars and unspeakable miseries to the human race. What did
Spain gain by it? It is true that he made more
refulgent the halo of glory which was round her
head, but he paralyzed in it the organ of thought;
he robbed her of liberty,-the soul of her body;
and that body, bleeding at every pore, he laid
prostrate like an exhausted knight, covering with a
gorgeous heap of laurels the wounds which he had
inflcted on its breast and the chains which he had
riveted to its limbs. So much for the reign of
Charles. That of Philip was but its continuation,
with a still more fatal termination.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         103
CHAPTER IV.
ON the abdication of Charles V., Philip found
himself the greatest monarch in the world, although
the Imperial Crown had not descended to him. He
might, however, have consoled himself with the
reflection that it had not departed from his family,
and had become the possession of his uncle Ferdinand.  What remained  to him  seemed, indeed,
ample enough to satisfy the most craving ambition;
for the whole Iberian Peninsula with the exception
of Portugal, the  provinces of Roussillon and
Franche Comte in France, the Kingdoms of Naples
and Sicily, the Balearic Islands and Sardinia, the
Duchy of Milan, the wealthy and populous Netherlands, were his hereditary dominions in Europe.
He owned in Africa the Canary Islands, and his
authority was acknowledged in the Cape de Verd
Islands, in Oran, Bougiah and Tunis. In Asia he
possessed the Philippine Islands, and a part of the
Moluccas, or Spice Islands. In America he was the
Lord of the Kingdoms of Mexico and Peru, of Chili
and other boundless territories, as well as of Cuba,
Hispaniola and other islands of the New World. Besides, his marriage with the Queen of England had




104           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
put under his indirect control all the strength and
all the resources of that Kingdom. Well might it
be said that such a Sovereign could hardly turn to
the right or to the left in his bed without exciting
the anxious attention of mankind. We may take
this as literally true, when we consider what influence sleep or digestion may have on the resolves
of man, and a philosophical mind may well think
with concern of the effect which may be produced
on the fate of millions of our fellow-creatures by a
more or less healthy secretion of bile, in a being
possessing the power and temper which Providence
had given to Philip.
When he ascended the throne, a temporary peace
had been granted to Europe by the truce of Vaucelles, agreed upon by the rival houses of Austria
and France, represented by Charles V. and Henry
II. It is a singular circumstance, that the Pope
should have been the first Power to provoke Philip
into breaking the truce, and to compel the proclaimed
champion of the Papacy to wage war against the
Holy See. The mad Pontiff, Paul the Fourth, invited the King of France to invade the Spanish possessions in Italy, ill treated the Spaniards in Rome,
and, among others, Garcilasso de la Vega, the Envoy
of Spain, excommunicated the Colonnas and other
Italian partisans of Philip, and was so blinded by
his hatred for the house of Austria as to perpetrate
the folly of summoning his Catholic Majesty to appear before him and a consistory of Cardinals, to be




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          105
tried as a vassal of the Church for the Kingdom of
Naples, and to be deprived of that crown which he
was alleged to have forfeited in consequence of having failed in his loyalty to the Holy See, and for
other reasons specified in the extraordinary judicial
document by which the monarch was arraigned.
Charles, from his retreat at Yuste, encouraged his
son in adopting the proper means to bring the Pope
to his senses, and Philip, after consulting a body of
Spanish theologians who justified him in making war
against the vicar of Christ, acted with prompt energy. The Viceroy of Naples, Duke of Alva, was
soon at the gates of Rome, after having taken possession of the cities and fortresses of the domains of
the -Church, in the name, as he declared, of the
Sacred College, and until the election of another
Pope. These words were ominous, and the Pontiff
hastened to propose terms of peace which led to a
suspension of hostilities for forty days granted by
Alva, who knew how averse the King was to a conflict with Rome. But, on receiving assistance from
France, the Pope perfidiously changed his tone and
his course, and became as hostile as ever.^ Philip,
who was then in Flanders, was not slow in picking
up the gauntlet which France had flung at his feet.
He was, at that time, in all the vigor of youth, and
showed on that occasion more decision and activity
than he ever did afterward. He seemed desirous
of proving to Europe that he was worthy of the heritage of Charles, and would know how to defend it




106            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
with becoming spirit.  He sent his best captains to
Hungary and Germany to raise bodies of cavalry
and infantry; he called to arms his Flemish and
Spanish subjects; he made all the necessary preparations for a vigorous war, and went in person to
England to prevail upon his wife, Queen Mary, to
assist him with the force of her Kingdom. He returned in three months to Brussels, with the satisfaction of having succeeded in his mission and of
having obtained eight thousand English auxiliaries,
commanded by the Earl of Pembroke.  Philip, who
during his long life, was destined to show as much
aversion to witnessing a battle as his father had
shown partiality for it, remained in the background
under the pretext of organizing his forces and sending them to the scene of action, and appointed the
Duke of Savoy commander-in-chief of his army.
The splendid victory of St. Quentin was gained, and
then Philip made his appearance among his victorious troops. The Duke of Savoy proposed to march
rapidly to Paris, which remained defenceless. Philip
refused, and Charles, at Yuste. when he heard of
his son's prudence, could not dissemble his vexation.
Intimidated by the triumph of Philip over the forces
of France, the Pope again sued for peace, which was
granted, as we have said before, on terms which
seemed to imply that the victor in appearance was
the defeated in reality. The Pope renounced his
alliance with France, it is true, but carried his point
in everything else. The royal dignity was, on that




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         107
occasion, held very cheap by Philip, much to the
mortification of the Duke of Alva, who, by the command of his master, had to kneel as a suppliant before the Pope and beg his pardon for having whipped his troops and treated his holy person with arrogance. This treaty of peace was so derogatory to
the majesty of the King of Spain, and so advantageous to the Pope, who seemed rather rewarded than
punished for his perfidiousness and insolence, that
Charles could hardly believe it at first, and, when
no doubt could any longer be entertained on the subject, gave way to an uncontrollable fit of indignant
rage. This was not all. Philip ceded the principality of Sienna, acquired by his father, to the Duke
of Tuscany, as an equivalent for a certain sum of
money due to him, and in consideration of a promise
made by that Prince to defend the other Spanish
possessions in Italy against any attack, from whatever quarter it might come. On the part of one who
possessed the mines of Peru and Mexico, with so
many other resources, and for a monarch so powerful
as Philip, it certainly was a striking specimen of undignified statesmanship to give away a portion of his
patrimony to pay a debt, and to secure the military
assistance of a Duke of Tuscany! His forbearance
toward the Pope is susceptible of an easier explanation, as it was not his policy to weaken a power
which he intended to use as an engine to serve his
purposes.
But Philip was not so accommodating to the




108           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
French. After a second victory-that of Gravelines
-a treaty of peace took place at Cateau Cambresis,
which is the most advantageous that Philip made
during his whole reign. A French writer observes,
that the King of Spain could not have dictated in
Paris conditions more onerous and fatal to France,
who lost in one day what it had cost her thirty years
to acquire. Suffice it to say, that she gave up one
hundred and ninety-eight cities and fortresses in exchange for three: Iam, Le Catelet, and St. Quentin.
Besides, by a secret agreement, it appears that
Henry II. had promised to massacre all the Protestants in his Kingdom-" a consummation most devoutly to be wished" by Philip, who then departed
to seat himself on the throne which had been surrendered to him by his father. Round his brow were the
laurels of St. Quentin and Gravelines. It is true that
he was indebted for them  to his generals, but he
might claim as his own the merits of the two treaties
of peace which he had made and which had been
concluded according to his wishes and directions;
for he certainly was able to lead his negotiators, if
not his armies. In his war with the Pope he had
been successfnl and magnanimous; in that with
France, triumphant to an eminent degree. He had
humbled her, greatly curtailed her power, and secured as his bride the beautiful Isabel of Valois.
Europe gave him credit for moderation and profound
statesmanship. He had gloriously inaugurated his
reign. The worthy scion of a noble line was pre



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         109
sumed capable of surpassing his imperial sire. His
prestige and influence at that time were perhaps
greater than they ever were afterward. Much was
expected of him at home and abroad. How were
these expectations realized?  We have already
mentioned the extent and wealth of his immense dominions. To protect or to increase them he had not
only the untold gold of his American possessions,
but he had also the best disciplined and most experienced troops in the world, commanded by heroic
and skillful captains. The combined fleets of Spain
and Flanders far exceeded the naval armaments of
any other power, and assured to him the supremacy
of the seas. Save in the Low Countries, which had
retained some show of independence and liberty, his
will was undisputed in all his dominions, and no
Caesar had ever been more absolute. Place in such
a position such a man as the glorious rebel, William
the Silent, his hated subject, and what would he not
have done for his fame and the welfare of the millions intrusted to his paternal care! Place on the
throne which Philip occupied such a monarch as his
contemporary Henry IV. of France, and he might
have established that universal monarchy of which
Philip is said to have dreamed-such a universal
monarchy as Heaven might have smiled upon, for
he would, no doubt, have attempted to do for it what
he aimed at on behalf of France, which was, in his
own words, that " the poorest of his subjects should
have a chicken in his pot every Sunday."




110           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
But what did Philip accomplish with all his
mighty means of execution? His repeated wars
with France and his manifold intrigues with the
factions which desolated that Kingdom were equally
fruitless as to their final results. He plotted and
bribed, and spent millions, year after year, to put
his daughter Isabel on the throne of St. Louis to
the exclusion of the heretic Henry of Navarre, and
after having exhausted his diplomacy, his treasury
and the skill of his generals, he signally failed in his
cherished schemes. He had long fought and negotiated to have the Protestants exterminated in
France, and yet by the Edict of Nantz, the Protestants obtained in the end the protection and security
which they desired.  One of his other favorite
plans, if he could not make his daughter Queen of
that Kingdom, was to weaken or dismember it, so as
to secure the supremacy of Spain over that neighboring rival, and yet when he died, France was
much less exhausted than Spain. Under the wise
administration of her gallant Henry, she was rapidly
passing into a healthy and recuperative condition,
whilst her once dreaded and powerful antagonist
was falling into a state of consumptive prostration,
from which she is but now recovering after a lapse
of nearly three centuries. In his attempts against
England he was still more strikingly foiled. The
sympathy which he professed for Mary Stuart and
his endeavors to assist her contributed to send to
the scaffold that unfortunate pretender to the crown




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
of Elizabeth. In his vain efforts to invade the 1L
anchored island he wrecked his whole navy, an,
England soon became what Spain had been-the
mistress of the seas, over which swarmed her bold
seamen who appropriated to themselves the treasures sent to Philip from the New World, swept over
the coasts of his American dominions which they
repeatedly plundered, and even took and sacked
Cadiz under the leadership of the Earl of Essex,
whose ships returned in triumph to England with a
booty of more than twenty millions of ducats. At
the close of his career, his Catholic Majesty must, to
his mortification, have been conscious that Protestant England was as much in the ascendant under
Elizabeth as France was under the seemingly converted Henry to the faith of Rome.
The champion of Christianity had not known how
to avail himself of the victory of Lepanto, so as to
crush forever the maritime power of the Infidels,
and toward the end of his reign he had the humiliation of seeing the shores of his Italian dominions
devastated by the piratical incursions of turbaned
corsairs. Even the city of Reggio was sacked by
those miscreants, whilst Hungary, the hereditary
possession of his nephew, the Emperor Rodolph, was
still threatened by the Mahomedan hosts. Worse
than that, he had not been able to retain in Africa
the important city of Tunis and the celebrated fortress called the Goleta, the acquisition of which had
cost so much Spanish blood and treasure.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
i)uring a long portion of his long reign he quarrelled with the Court of Rome, although he professed
to care for the Papacy next to God.  He had, however, the satisfaction of dying on good terms with
Clement VIII. In relation to Rome and religious matters, his great achievement was the reconvocation of
the Council of Trent, which had been suspended so
often, and which had encountered so many difficulties in the accomplishment of the object of its meeting. The labors, however, of the two hundred and
fifty- five  learned  prelates who  composed  that
Council terminated  harmoniously, much  to  the
satisfaction of Philip, and the articles of faith for all
Catholics were at last clearly and definitely settled, although the disciplinary  rules established
by that body were rejected in France as contrary to
the privileges and liberties of the Gallican Church,
and as hostile to the rights of the Crown.  This,
if we consider the nature of the subject, the importance and duration of its wide-spread results,
was perhaps the greatest success obtained by Philip,
without whose exertions it may well be doubted
whether the Council of Trent would not have been
an abortion, and whether the Catholic world would
have enjoyed its present unity. That event, fraught
with such incalculable consequences, must therefore
be justly traced up to Philip as its chief promoter.
But, nevertheless, in his cherished scheme of crushing Protestantism he was far from being as successful as he desired.  He had, it is true, consolidated




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          113
and invigorated the Catholic Church, but he had
neither weakened, nor circumscribed within  a
smaller area, nor materially damaged its youthful
antagonist. Wielding the terrific engine of the Inquisition, he had smothered heresy in Spain, but it
was still defiant in every other part of Europe
where it had taken a foothold, and when the Monarch closed his eyes forever, it must have been with
the painful consciousness that the disciples of Luther
had even wrested from his grasp some of his own
provinces, and secured forever their political and
religious independence.
Henry of Navarre had seated himself on the
throne of France by his activity, his heroism, and
his making opportunely the religious concession
required by the majority of his subjects. Philip
lost his fat provinces of the Netherlands by his
unbending fanaticism, by his invincible sluggishness,
and by the near-sighted jealousy which prompted
him to thwart successively the administration of
his sister Margaret, and particularly of Don John
of Austria and of Alexander of Parma, who, if
permitted to act according to their own plans, and
granted the supplies in men and money which they
needed, would, according to such probable conjectures as we can draw  from  historical evidence,
have won back, partly by force, and partly by
management, the revolted provinces.
The only real acquisition made by Philip was that
bf Portugal and her immense colonies. Considering
8




114            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
the geographical situation of that Kingdom, it was
of far more importance to Spain than the distant
Low Countries, from which she had derived but few,
if any advantages. But Philip, by the arrogant
and injudicious administration which he gave to his
conquest, had sowed in it those seeds of discontent
which grew up under his weak successor into a revolution, and again disunited the Iberian Peninsula.
In conclusion, after reviewing Philip's external relations, it is difficult not to admit that they were less
satisfactory at the end of his reign than at its beginning, and that, when he descended into the tomb,
he was less powerful as a monarch, and less influential as a statesman in the Councils of Europe, than
he had been when ascending the throne.  It is probably for these reasons that several historians, and
among others, Voltaire, have unjustly, we think,
denied him the talents which he really possessed,
and have looked upon him as a mere mischief maker,
a royal busy-body, who, for nearly half a century,
kept Europe in a constant state of agitation, without
results worthy of his ambition, and commensurate
with the extent of his gigantic power, the subtlety
and multiplicity of his intrigues, and the darkness
of his crimes.
Let us now see how he conducted the administration of his internal affairs, which he found in no flattering condition when he took in hand the reins of
government.  Commerce and industry were paralyzed, almost dead, the population was greatly




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          115
diminished, the public debt enormous, the revenues
of the State much reduced, and its financial, if not
other resources, exhausted by improvident management. What did Philip to remedy these evils?
France, which had been brought down to a similar
state of distress by its civil wars, found a Sully,
who, with the friendly and enlightened protection
of Henry IV., substituted order for chaos and wealth
and abundance for penury and famine. Such was not
the fate of Spain. The deficit for the ordinary
expenses of the Kingdom was 197,182,000 of maravedis in 1557. Philip and his ministerial advisers
imagined, in their wisdom, to replenish the empty
and beggarly coffers of the Government by selling
one thousand titles of nobility, without taking into
consideration, in order to facilitate the sale, any
flaw in the lineage of the purchasers, or even any
stain which might rest on their escutcheons. With
a view not to depreciate the value of this commodity
by throwing too much of it at once into the market,
it was resolved to part at first with only one hundred and fifty titles of nobility, at the price of
five thousand ducats each, reserving the rest for
successive sales equally advantageous. To alienate
in perpetuity the rights of administering justice,
and to extend in the same way, for money, certain
jurisdictions, was another contrivance which was
thought as felicitous as the former.  Municipal,
notarial and manifold other offices were put at
auction, as it were; "this, no doubt," said the




116           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
Council, and the saying found approbation in the
royal breast, "will bring a good round sum  of
ducats."  Some revenues derived from the Clergy
and which had not been paid for two years were
remitted in consideration of a much smaller amount
furnished without delay. The commons of villages,
towns and cities, were offered for sale, leaving only
what was barely indispensable. Forced loans were
resorted to, payable in annual pensions on the Royal Treasury and "in vassals," or sale of human
beings, and so evidently forced were those loans, that
the Bishop of Cordova being invited to offer two hundred thousand ducats, the King said to one of his
agents: "You will give him to understand that if
he does not do it voluntarily, we shall be compelled
to enforce our request; and should he continue
to excuse himself, let means of rigor, but with the
greatest possible decorum and propriety, be employed to obtain the sum required." The Archbishop
of Toledo received the same broad hint and for the
same amount. The Archbishop of Seville was put
down for 150,000 ducats on the list of the Royal
borrower. The Priors and members of the Tribunal
of Commerce of that city and of Burgos were taxed
at 70,000, and the Archbishop of Saragoza at 60,000.
The towns of Estepa and Montemolin were sold to
the Counts of Urena and Puebla. A contract made
with the Pope for the supply of certain mineral salts
which were to be procured from the domains of the
Holy See was shamefully violated and was adjudi



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         117
cated to the highest bidder. The people were made
to contribute large sums, which were to be received
in satisfaction of future taxes, and the creditors of
the State had to content themselves with promises
to pay contained in bonds which stipulated increased interest. Other equally absurd and tyrannical measures were adopted. Far from disapproving
them when presented to his sanction by his Council,
Philip ordered that they should be executed "instantly and without any kind of consideration for
anybody."  He even pithily recommended "that
more be taken from those who should not readily
comply."  One of his own suggestions was, to
appropriate for his benefit one-half of the revenues
of the whole Clergy. This had been temporarily
granted by. the Pope, Julius III., to Charles V., to
enable him to carry on war against the Protestants
of Germany. This concession had been since revoked, but a body of theologians was convoked by
Philip to examine into this matter, and they declared that the Pope could not recall a bull which had
been once received and ratified by the Kingdom 
for which reason they concluded that the King had
the undoubted right to collect the same tax from the
Clergy. Philip accepted this conclusion as very
logical, and acted accordingly, with an untroubled
conscience. Besides, the sending of money to Rome
was prohibited anew under the severest penalty,
such as death and confiscation of property for all
those not in Holy Orders, and for ecclesiastics the




118           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
sequestration of their rents and temporalities, and
exile from the Kingdom.
To collect the forced loans decreed by the Council, the King sent commissioners to the provinces,
with instructions to proceed with the utmost severity.
The prelacy, the high and inferior nobility, and all
the men of property, had a hard time of it.  The
Archbishop of Saragoza had been taxed by the
Council at 60,000 ducats. -He proposed to compromise for  20,000. It turned out badly for the
Archbishop.  " Tell him," said Philip to one of his
messengers, " that I, the King, have put him down
for 100,000 ducats." The other Archbishops attempted to elude the Royal pressure under manifold pleas
and excuses, but the inexorable master ordered that
"a rigid and scrupulous estimate " of their rents
and other sources of wealth should be made, to
establish their ability to yield what was demanded,
and showed them  that he understood the grinding process as well as any miller in his Kingdom.
This pious and decorum - loving King, who pretended to care so much for the morals of the Clergy,
did not blush to offer to legitimate the sons of priests
for money, and even to publish that he would ennoble
them " at a moderate price," which measure, however, did not produce the expected results; " for
the Clergy," wrote an illustrious Princess to Philip,
" choose to keep their money, as they have other
ways and means to obtain what they desire for their
bastards."  The Government went so far as to take




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         119
at discretion from merchants and traders what it
needed, offering them in payment very high interests, and pensions on the Treasury. Notwithstanding all these exactions, its most pressing wants were
very far from being met. The vast and ravenous
maw of the Royal Exchequer still cried for more
substance to be devoured; and yet, the year before,
the enormous sum of more than fifteen hundred and
forty-nine millions of maravedis had been received
from the mines of the New World. Not satisfied
with this, the Government had at last run into the
habit of seizing all the gold and silver coming from
America for the account of individuals, taking for
itself, under divers pretexts, the lion's share, and
leaving nothing, or very little, to the legitimate
owners.  It was worse than black-mail levied by
His Catholic Majesty; it was downright wholesale
robbery.
The Cortes who assembled in 1558 remonstrated
against these outrages, and suggested many measures,
reforms and ameliorations which, if adopted by the
King, would have done much good, but that body
was no longer what it had been. The authority of
the Representatives of the nation had been reduced
to a shadow; that of the King was but too stern a
reality. Formerly, when the Cortes petitioned for
anything, the common formula used by the Monarchs
in their answer was: " Let it be done as you desire,"
or some other phrase of acquiescence. Under Charles
V. those petitions had begun to be disregarded, and




120            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
in the very first years of the reign of Philip they
hardly ever elicited a categorical concession, or an
explicitly favorable answer. This would not have
suited the despotic, reserved and mysterious character of the Monarch.  His replies on such occasions
were always ambiguous like the very nature of his
mind. They usually ran as follows: "We shall
order this matter to be examined;" or "We shall
remember what you say in order to provide for it
in the manner most conducive to our interest;" or
" We shall order the members of our Council to consult together on what may be best to be done, and
report to us accordingly."  This was the phraseology of his most benign answers.  Generally they
were unfavorable, and couched in these terms: " For
the present it is not proper to make any innovations
in this matter."
Charles had written with fierce zeal to his son,
exhorting him to give no quarter to the heresy which
had penetrated into Spain, and declaring that, notwithstanding his infirmities, he would leave his retreat at Yuste to crush the monster, if proper measures were not soon taken to secure its extermination.  Philip needed no such stimulation, and had
Charles lived a little longer, he would have seen the
heretics treated to his heart's content. He would
perhaps have been amazed at witnessing the ferocious impartiality with which the Inquisition proceeded against so many personages illustrious for
their science, their services to the State, their birth,




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         121
or their official position. He would have seen archbishops, bishops, abbots, monks, priests, nuns, marquises and other great lords, delicate women of the
most exalted rank, magistrates, professors at universities, artisans, mechanics, servants, and other
small fry, democratically driven pell-mell to judgment under the levelling rod of the same prosecution. The Inquisition must be given its due; it was
no respecter of persons. The highest and the lowest had to bend equally under its red hot sceptre,
and lucky was he who had only his beard singed.
The Archbishops of Granada and Santiago, the
Bishops of Lugo, of Leon, of Almeria, with far-famed
theologians who were the boast of Spain and the
pride of the Catholic Church, and who had figured
conspicuously as members of the Council of Trent,
were arraigned at the bar of a tribunal as grim as
Tartarus, and with all its flames and apparatus of
torments at its command, The very Primate of the
Church of Spain, the Archbishop of Toledo, who had
been the confessor of Philip, and who had administered the last consolations of religion to the Emperor on his death-bed at Yuste, was accused of
heresy, and dragged before judges far more terrible
than any mythological Minos, Eacus and Rhadamanthe. His crime was to have written certain
commentaries on "the Church's Catechism  of the
Christian Doctrine,"  Many prelates and theologians had given their approbation to these commentaries. Hence they were also enveloped in the same




122            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
prosecution.  Who could feel safe, when such men
were not? Hardly had Philip returned from Flanders, to begin his royal administration in 1559, when
autos-de-fe were inaugurated, to greet him with special honor; and the burning piles to consume heretics, or pretended heretics, threw their lurid light
all over Spain.  On one occasion, the bones of an old
woman were disinterred, and those bones, together
with a statue made to represent her, were reduced
to ashes in the presence of Philip, with, alas! many
other victims whose living flesh was not, like that
vain image, proof against the agonies of the inflicted
torture.  These exhibitions were known to afford
keen satisfaction to Philip, and one may suppose,
without any great stretch of fancy, that when the
flames crackled round the bodies of his subjects, the
phlegmatic Monarch extended with glee his coldblooded hands to meet the genial heat which they
diffused.  Those autos-de-fe, or acts of faith, as they
were called, were to continue to be one of the characteristic features of his reign, and were not the
least of the potent causes of the decline of Spain.
The genius of evil was seated on her throne in the
person of Philip, and the curse of God had settled
on her majestic mountains and her lovely valleys.
In the beginning of his reign he issued a most
extraordinary decree, strikingly in keeping with the
spirit which animated the Inquisition and its supporters.  That document is a signal revelation of the
policy which Philip adopted as the very soul of his




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           123
Government. Determined to stop, by all imaginable
means the infiltration into Spain of the doctrines of
the religious reformation which agitated Europe, it
seems that he planned to isolate her intellect from
that of the rest. of the world. On the other side of
the Pyrenees the human mind was in motion, and
ran onward, as it ever will, like a magnificent stream,
sometimes lashed into firy by tempestuous winds
and sinking the precious freight floating on its bosom,
sometimes reflecting gently the hues of Heaven, the
radiancy of the sun, and gracefully swelling under
the keel of the thrifty bark of commerce, or the
gilded boat of pleasure, now overleaping its banks
with swollen and angry waves and carrying desolation far and wide; now spreading fertility, abundance and joy, but always keeping its steady course
toward its goal, and always, notwithstanding its
rapids, its shoals, its eddies and the other dangers
of its navigation, continuing to be a priceless channel of intercourse between nations and an instrument of civilization.  This was no grateful spectacle
to Philip.  The brain of Spain, at least, was in his
iron grasp, and should work only in harmony with
his own. He would not permit her intellect to be
like an ocean heaving under vivifying gales and rolling its vast volume of water to distant shores in a
sublime continuity of measureless expansion. It was
to be like the Dead Sea, contracted, dreary, motionless, lifeless, useless. For this purpose he ordered
that none of his subjects, without any exception




124           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
whatever, should leave the Kingdom "to learn, or
to teach, or to read anything," or even " reside " in
any of the universities, colleges or schools established in foreign parts. To those who were thus
engaged he prescribed that they should return home
within four months. Any ecclesiastic violating this
decree was to be denationalized and lose all his temporalities; any layman was to be punished with the
confiscation of his property and perpetual exile.
Thus a sort of Chinese legislation and policy was
adopted for Spain. There was to be on her frontiers
a line of custom-houses through which the thought of
man could not pass without examination. No Spaniard was to receive or to communicate one idea
without the leave of Philip. Truly this was despotism carried to the height of sublimity. That man
must have snuffed on the breeze the parturition of
future revolutions, and would have stopped, if possible, the circulation of air across mountains and
seas to the doomed theatre of his tyranny. Spain
was to be fossilized, to be mummified in the swaddling-bands of unprogressive ignorance, in order
that Philip might slumber in peace under the sombre
vaults of the Escorial. With such facts staring us
in the face, we cannot but wonder that some Spanish historians have claimed for this bird of darkness,
this extinguisher of the intellect, the merit of having
been the lover and patron of literature and the arts,
after the fashion of Francis the First of France.
In 1560, the Cortes of Castile had their second




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          125
meeting under the reign of Philip. Don Carlos was
acknowledged as legitimate heir to the throne with
great solemnity, on his swearing to observe and
maintain the privileges and laws of the kingdom.
The Cortes presented to Philip one hundred and
eleven petitions, some of which deserve to be mentioned, as specimens of the political economy and of
the statesmanship prevalent at the epoch.  These
were, that the Sovereign should visit the principal
cities of his Kingdom, in order that he might know
personally  those  whose services he might require; that there be a sumptuary reform in dresses,
equipages and the general way of living, his Majesty
being the first to give the example; that the sale of
the domains of the Crown be suspended; that the
work of making a digest of the law be continued
without interruption; that the King cease to pay
such high interests on his debts; that he persist not
in taking for himself the gold and silver coming from
America for individuals; that these precious metals
be not permitted to be carried out of Spain; that no
butcher's meat and no grains be exported from Castile to the kingdoms of Portugal, Aragon and Valencia; that nothing be plated with gold or silver, except
such articles as were required for the use of Churches;
that the custom-houses between Castile and Portugal
be suppressed; that the delinquencies committed by
the soldiers against the peasantry be cognizable by
the ordinary tribunals of the country, and that the
accused in such cases be not allowed to shelter them



126            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
selves behind their military franchises or privileges;
that no officer of the Government be permitted to
trade; that the Moors of Granada be prohibited from
purchasing black slaves; that vagrants be prosecuted;
that thieves be branded on the arm; that the Grandees be compelled to reduce the number of their
lacqueys, because the attraction of the livery deprived agriculture of too many of those laborers which
it needed; and that it be not lawful for anybody,
whatever be his rank, to have on his table more than
four dishes and four different kinds of fruit; that the
cities on the sea shore be fortified, and proper means
be taken to check the depredations of the Moslem
corsairs who made the navigation of the Mediterranean so insecure, and who, by their incessant landings on the coasts of Spain, had caused the lands,
from  Perpignan in Roussillon to the frontiers of
Portugal, to be abandoned and to remain uncultivated as far as twelve or fifteen miles in the interior.
Philip paid but very little attention to most of these
requests, except the last, which induced him to make
an unsuccessful attempt to possess himself of Tripoli,
Oran, Mazelquevir, and some other points on the
African coast. To those petitions which aimed at
something practicable and judicious he gave some of
his usual evasive answers, but he granted very readily those which were absurd. For instance, he promulgated sumptuary ordinances which were ridiculous, and which could not possibly have any salutary
effects.  He also published  decrees which were




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           127
restrictive of commerce, and prohibited the exportation of gold, silver, grains, cattle and other products
of the soil, or of the manufacturing industry of the
country. Three years after, in 1563, the Cortes of
Castile having remonstrated against the practice of
alienating real estate in mortmain to the Clergy, and
represented that religious corporations, if not checked,
would in the end possess themselves of the whole of
Spain, the King replied, in his favorite phraseology,
that " it did not seem expedient to him to make any
innovation in this matter;' and the Cortes of Aragon having complained of the encroachments of the
Tribunal of the Inquisition, which was gradually
usurping jurisdiction to the detriment of the ordinary
courts of the couhtry, the King vouchsafed no other
answer than that'"he would talk about it to the
Grand Inquisitor General."
In the mean time, the financial condition of the
Kingdom was rapidly growing worse, and the deficit
resulting from  the inequality of expenditure and
revenue was assuming the most alarming proportions.
All the ordinary and extraordinary means and resources had been exhausted.  Philip, instead of
remedying the evil by a prudent and wise economy,
gave the example of extravagance in the royal
household. The sum annually granted to the Queen
had in two years been raised from 60,000 to 80,000
ducats, and the allowance to Don Carlos and to Don
John of Austria, from 32,000 to 50,000 each, so that
the expenses of the Royal family amounted, in 1562,




128            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
to 415,000 ducats a year, a sum equal to about
$2,000,000 in our days, whilst some of the highest
officers of the realm had to content themselves with
the comparatively pitiful salary of 400 ducats. With
such aberrations in political economy and such a
wasteful administration, it is not astonishing that the
personal debts of the Monarch and those of the
Kingdom  should have been frightfully on the increase; and yet, on an average, Philip received
annually from his American Dominions alone more
than one million two hundred thousand ducatswhich was at least equivalent to six millions of dollars at the present epoch. The Council of Finances,
or Hacienda, after consulting with Philip, could not
devise anything else, to get out of difficulty, than to
resort again to the sale of titles of nobility, the sale
of vassals and other Royal property, the alienation
of certain rights, and the concession of privileges.
This was but a sad way to stop the holes in a sinking
ship, and fatal as were the measures to relieve the
pressing necessities of the moment, they were rendered still more so by the manner in which they
were carried into execution; for the King was informed by one of his ministerial advisers, that in
order to realize 500,000 ducats, it would be imperative to alienate property worth fully 700,000,
on account of necessary deductions which would have
to be made, and which he enumerated. It is difficult
to give an idea of the wretched administration which
had been introduced in Spain, and of those abuses




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
which, like venomous leeches, preyed upon her vita.
Suffice it to say that in Castile, for instance, according to a census made in 1541, there was a population
of near 800,000 souls, and that out of every eight
men there was one who was noble and exempt from
taxation, thereby increasing the weight of the burden
on the shoulders of the rest; and as if this evil was
not already unbearable, Philip was selling profusely
letters patent of nobility. One is tempted to suppose that the wreckless Royal spendthrift cared very
little what became of Spain after he had closed his
mad career of visionary ambition and selfish gratification.
In these conjunctures, Philip, who had shown, on
all occasions, that he preferred residing in Madrid
than anywhere else in Spain, determined to make
that city the permanent seat of the Court and of the
Supreme Government, and therefore the capital of
the Monarchy. That barren and insalubrious locality
presented but one advantage, if it be one of much
value, that of being a central point. Its disadvantages were manifold and glaring, and are felt to this
day. Such a selection redounds very little to the
credit of Philip. It has been severely censured by
his own countrymen, and justifies inferences unfavorable to the reputation of that Monarch for
judgment, discretion and foresight.  Reason and
common sense condemned it from the beginning, and
their verdict has been confirmed by time and experience.
9




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
shortly after having selected Madrid as his capital, Philip had laid with his own hands, in the
vicinity of that city, the first stone of the foundations
of the Escorial, that eighth marvel of the world, as it
is called by the Spaniards, and it was when superintending the erection of that edifice, which he intended  as an eternal monument of his piety, that he
attempted to introduce the Inquisition in his provinces of the Low Countries, and inaugurated that
system of tyrannical vexations by which he goaded
faithful subjects into insurrection.  It was when
thus engaged that he found leisure to negotiate with
France the cession and translation to Spain of the
bones of the martyr St. Eugene, who had been the
first Archbishop of Toledo, and whose body had, for
centuries, reposed in the famous abbey of St. Denis,
near Paris. The King of France readily granted
the favor desired by Philip, but the Cardinal of
Lorraine, who was Abbot of St. Denis, stoutly
refused to part with the canonized treasure. This
difficulty almost produced a collision between the
two Kingdoms. Fortunately the Gordian knot was
cut by having the dead saint secretly taken out of
his place of rest, and conveyed to Bordeaux, after
having obtained from Philip the solemn assurance
that he would, in return, compensate the Cathedral
of St. Denis for its loss by a donation of a similar
nature and value. The body of the saint was received in Toledo with the most gorgeous ceremony.
The whole Court was present; Philip and Austrian




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
Archdukes who happened to-be on a visit to Spa
assisted by the highest Grandees of the land, carried
the body on their shoulders to the doors of the
Cathedral of Toledo, where it was received by the
Clergy and deposited in the most sacred part of the
edifice. A Monarch who had thus bent reverently
under the weight of the coffin which contained the
remains of a saint could not but feel, or pretend to
feel, great concern at the dissoluteness which had
penetrated into many religious Orders, and profaned
the sacred walls of Convents and other such holy
asylums. He accordingly published decrees remedying the evil, and put an end to the liberty which female
recluses had taken to come out of their monastic
abodes at will-which liberty had been fraught with
peril to their virtue, and had been the cause of
much scandal. He proposed to the Pope several
measures, the object of which was to restore the
antique purity of the cloister, and he took care as
usual, that His Holiness should not long resist his
views. He particularly insisted on the abolition of
the Order of the Piemonstratenses, or Norbertines.
" They are all idiots," he said, " without literary or
doctrinal education. There is no preacher among
them, and in several of their houses there is not
even a pulpit. Besides their being idiots, they
have very loose morals, whereby they give a bad
example; for they neither keep themselves confined
to their monasteries, nor observe any of the regulations of their Order." In this matter, Philip had




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
y readily listened to the representations of the
Jortes, who, having assembled at Madrid, in 1567,
had petitioned against the abuses and scandal which
resulted  from  the visits of monks to the convents of nuns, proposing that they should not be
permitted to enter such establishments, but instructed on the contrary never to hold any conversations
with such female recluses, except at the hole of the
turning-box, or at the iron-gratings of the common
parlor. The Monarch did not, however, lend to
them so favorable an ear, when they repeated the
prayer of former Cortes, that Monasteries, Churches,
and ecclesiastics individually, be prohibited from
purchasing real estates, and be declared incapable
of acquiring them  either through inheritance, or
donation. The same answer was returned as on
preceding occasions: " It is not expedient to make
any innovation."  Hardly any other answer could
have been expected from a Prince, who had just
entailed on the monastery of the Escorial which he
was then constructing enormous rents and other
dotations.
The Pope Pius V., seeing Philip in such good
disposition, requested him, in return for favors
granted, no longer to forbid the publication of the
Bulls of the Holy See, unless they had the Royal
Exequatur.  But the King showed himself very
stubborn on this subject, and replied that he desired
to live in the utmost harmony with the Holy Roman
Catholic and Apostolic Church, provided he was not




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
expected to sacrifice any of the authority which
had inherited from the most pious of Princes. He
expressed his astonishment that the Pope should
find fault with him for using his royal privileges,
when His Holiness knew that the same course had
been pursued by his ancestors, who had conferred
so many benefits on the Church, by which their
great services to religion had always been acknowledged. The Pope prudently yielded, but not without bitter complaints. It was, however, a compensation for the Court of Rome, that Philip was bent
upon establishing  the  Inquisition  in the Low
Countries.' Already those Provinces were in a state
of insurrection, and the heads of Egmont and Horn
had fallen on the scaffold. In connection with this
tragical event, we will mention as strikingly characteristic of Philip what he wrote to the Duke of
Alva, the ruthless Minister of his bloody policy:' It has grieved me exceedingly that the delinquencies of the Counts have been so grave as to deserve
the sentence which was executed on their persons.
But since that sentence was so just and so well
grounded, we have nothing more to say than to
recommend their souls to God."  This letter never
was intended for publicity, and has but recently
come to light. Was Philip playing the hypocrite,
even when confidentially addressing such a man as
Alva?
These same Cortes of 1567, to whose proceedings
we have already referred, had petitioned the King




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
put an end to bull fights, on account of the serious accidents which resulted from this favorite,
popular pastime, and to replace it by useful military
and knightly exercises which would instruct the
people in the art of war, and the better qualify
them to serve His Majesty. The King replied that,
as to the accidents mentioned, it was the business
of those who presided at those festivals to prevent
them, and he had no doubt they did their duty in
that respect, as well and as efficaciously as could
be expected; and as to the nature of the amusement
itself, that it was a very antique and general custom
which could not be changed, unless after much
deliberation; and therefore, for the present, that he
" did not see any reason for innovation." Although
such a hater of innovations, Philip was very fond of
such as suited his purposes.  For instance, not
satisfied with  having  provoked  an insurrection
among his Flemish subjects by having infringed
some of their cherished laws, privileges, customs and
usages, he was driving into rebellion the conquered
Moors of the Kingdom of Granada by the same course
of absurd and tyrannical legislation-a legislation
which aimed at suddenly changing the nature of those
miserable beings, and transforming them at once
into full-blooded Spaniards.  He seems to have
exhausted his imagination to make life intolerable
to that unfortunate race. It was not enough that
they should have been compelled to abjure their
relligon;it was not enough that they had undergone




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          135
every sort of oppression; they were at last forbidden to use their own native language, and ordered
to speak Spanish only, whether they knew it or not,
under the most terrible penalties. They were also
commanded to deliver up all the Arabic books
which they might have in their possession. Moreover, they had to renounce their usages, ceremonies,
customs, dresses, and even their family names.
Their ablutions for the sake of religion or cleanliness were to be abandoned; their ordinary as well
as medicinal baths were to be destroyed. They
were instructed to keep their houses opened, and
their women were to show themselves unveiled in
the streets. In one word, they were to lose the
very consciousness of their former identity; they
were, in every act of their life from  the most
important to the most trifling, to relinquish what
they cherished, and to adopt what they abhorred.
It would have been no wonder that such a decree
had maddened men of less fiery temper than the
Moors.  On its promulgation, they flew  to such
weapons as they had kept concealed, for they had
previously been disarmed as completely as possible,
and, in their uncontrollable fury, they committed the
wildest atrocities.  This was a pretext for retaliation and plunder, and a war of extermination began
against those who  had been driven into those
excesses by the very Government which had assumed their punishment.
Whilst the increasing troubles and perturbations




136            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
in Flanders and the new horrors of a fanatical war
in the Kingdom of Granada were filling Spain with
mourning and with anxiety for the future, the arrest
and secret trial of the hereditary Prince, Don Carlos,
for causes which have remained unknown to this
day, and his subsequent mysterious death, threw a
funereal pall over the face of the whole country.
But, when a few months after, it became known that
the beautiful and beloved Queen, Isabel of Valois?
had, at the age of twenty-two, departed this life, not
without suspicions of foul play at the time, although
historians admit that they  were unfounded, the
loyalty of the Spaniards, proof as it was against all
assaults, melted into tears and shuddered with terror. The marriage of Philip with Anne of Austria,
who had also been destined to his son, Don Carlos,
although celebrated with much pomp, did not afford
much consolation to the heavily taxed and much afflicted subjects of the despot. The festivals which
took place on that occasion contributed to empty the
Royal purse, and, when after having captured Harlem, the Spanish soldiers mutinied for the want of
pay, it was with the utmost difficulty that, to satisfy
in' part their just demands, the Sovereign of so many
Kingdoms and Provinces could raise 400,000 ducats,
on agreeing to exorbitantly usurious interest.  And
yet he had just put to death Montigny and confiscated his estates, together with those of many other
Magnates of the Netherlands, and he had taxed and
plundered those rich Provinces with the utmost in



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           137
genuity and without mercy. But the more he robbed
and oppressed, the poorer he became. His exactions
were fruitless; they could not replenish his exchequer.  It was like pouring water into a bottomless
tub.
Philip, in his proceedings against the Moors of the
Kingdom of Granada, had probably two objects in
view-the one, was to establish in it religious unity,
as well as in the Low Countries, and the other, to
fill up his Royal coffers by wholesale confiscation and
all the other arts of spoliation.  He consulted learned
prelates and laymen to know whether the prisoners
in that war could be reduced to slavery. The majority of his advisers decided in the affirmative; excepting only from  servitude boys under ten years
and girls under eleven, who were to be intrusted to
certain administrations by which they were to be
educated in the Christian faith. Therefore, such of
the captives as were not permitted to become the
share of the soldiers were sold for the benefit of his
Catholic Majesty, and the fifth of all the spoils that
were taken from the sacked dwellings of the Moors
was also reserved for the Monarch; and that those
spoils were not trifling we may easily conceive, when
we reflect that many of the Mtoors were rich, and
when a contemporary Spanish historian declares,
that most of the soldiery engaged in hunting the
rebels from their cities, and even from the caves and
mountain recesses where they had sought refuge,
" had avarice for their leader and robbery for their




138           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
paymaster."  Philip had ordered, on the 19th of
October, 1569, that the war be carried on " with fire
and sword," and was but too well obeyed. Among
other deeds of atrocity, a whole city was sacked and
burned, its inhabitants put to death, and the ground
on which it stood strewed with salt which was
ploughed into the soil. Finally, it was determined
that men, who through a policy truly diabolical had
been driven into rebellion, had no rights whatever i
that all their possessions belonged to the Crown; and
that the whole Moorish population of the Kingdom
of Granada should be transported and scattered in
the interior of Spain. They were to be divided into
small bands and mixed up with the Spaniards, so as
to avoid the danger which might result from their
agglomeration on any particular point. No exception was made in favor of a numerous class of them
who had remained faithful. They were told with all
the gravity of sincerity and in the soft tones of sympathy, which must, however, have sounded to them
like cruel mockery, that it was " for their good and
security" they were to be removed from the place of
their birth, from their paternal roofs and all their
broad acres of land.  "The Moors," said Philip in
the preamble of an ordinance dated on the 24th February, 1571, " who took no part in the insurrection
ought not to be punished. We should not desire to
injure them." On reading these words we began to
breathe more freely and to hope that, at last, a sense
of justice had overcome in the breast of the Monarch




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           139
the malignant influence of fanaticism and the inspirations of a greedy policy. We lad, unfortunately,
been too hasty, and we confessed to ourself that we
did not yet know Philip thoroughly, much as we had
studied his character, when, before finishing the sentence, we met with a "but," truly worthy of his
genius.  "We should not desire to injure them,"
wrote the Prince, "but they cannot hereafter cultivate their lands; and, besides, it would be an endless task to attempt to separate the innocent from
the guilty.  We shall indemnify them, certainly.
Meanwhile, their estates must be confiscated like those
of the rebel Moriscoes."  It has been said that
Philip, however, pretended to show some consideration for the loyal Moors. Their lands and houses
were to be forfeited to the Crown, it is true.  iThat
he could not make up his mind to relinquish.  But
their personal effects, their flocks, their herds and
their grains would be taken, if they desired it, at a
fixed valuation by the Government.  What that
valuation was we have no means of ascertaining, but
we suspect that in that arrangement the unfortunate
Moors found themselves unmercifully fleeced by their
Royal shepherd.  That Royal shepherd, however,
if he sheared all the wool from  his sheep, ordered
that every regard be paid to their personal comfort
and security; and it was forbidden to separate, in
their removal to distant localities, children from their
parents, and husbands from their wives; in short, to
divide the members of one family from one another.




140           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
"This was an act of clemency," says a Spanish
chronicler, " which they little deserved; but his Majesty is willing to give them that satisfaction." If
this was an act of clemency which they little deserved,
what would the Spaniards have thought if the loyal
Moors had been indemnified by Philip for their confiscated lands and houses, as he had promised?
Hence that indemnity never came, so far as we can
ascertain, and probably the plundered exiles had too
much discretion to remind Philip of his pledge. It
would have been as unwise as if lambs had bleated
to prevent the lion from forgetting their existence.
In the distant localities whither they were transported, the Moors who were not sold into servitude,
and who remained free, had but a sorry kind of freedom to enjoy. Not only were they forbidden to
seek a momentary oblivion of their miseries by resorting to their national songs and dances; not only
were they commanded, under the harshest penalties, not to speak the Arabic, or read any book
written in that language, but "no one," says Prescott is his History of Philip, " was allowed to change
his abode, or to leave the parish or district assigned
to him, without permission from the regular authorities. Whoever did so, and was apprehended beyond these limits, was to be punished with a hundred
lashes and four years' imprisonment in the galleys.
Should he be found within ten leagues of Granada,
he was condemned, if between ten and seventeen
years of age, to toil as a galley-slave the rest of his




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          141
days; if above seventeen, he was sentenced to death.
On the escape of a Morisco from his limits, the hue
and cry was to be raised as for the pursuit of a
criminal. Even his own family were required to
reporthis absence to the magistrate; and, in case of
their failure to do this, they incurred the penalty of
a whipping and a month's imprisonment in the common jail." This is one of the specimens of Philip's
internal administration.
In this insurrection of the Moors, and in the war
which resulted to subdue them, thousands of Spaniards lost their lives, many of them in the most excruciating tortures inflicted in retaliation by their
revengeful foes.  The Christian soldiers became
demoralized by being permitted to fight like bandits
for pillage, and to divide among themselves as slaves
the captives of the bow and the spear. Lust, avarice and cruelty in all their refinements became the
order of the day. By the massacre of the Moors
and the transportation of those who were spared by
the sword, the Kingdom of Granada lost its most
useful population-a population of most skillful husbandmen, artisans and mechanics; and, although
there was an attempt to replace them by an immigration of Spaniards, who were allured thither by
tempting concessions, favors and privileges granted
by the Government, that lovely part of Spain, that
terrestrial paradise, received a blow from which it
has not recovered to this day.  Where industry had
spread fertility and accumulated wealth, where agri



142           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
culture had clothed the bosom of the earth with a
gorgeous mantle of never-failing harvests, where
taste and art had decorated fairy gardens with garlands of fruits and flowers, where the genius of architecture, inspired by poetry and love, had thrown
up its aerial palaces, which looked like embroidered
lace petrified into stone, indolence and pride, like
two fraternal spirits, held  communion  together
amidst decay, ruin and famine. For all these evils
Philip had made himself responsible before God and
man.
If Philip had proposed to himself to blend together
the Spanish and Moorish elements, so as to produce
in his Peninsular dominions a unity in religion and
nationality, he was signally defeated in his purpose;
for the Moors, scattered and oppressed as they were,
remained obstinately distinct from their oppressors,
notwithstanding some external conformity which
they assumed for their own protection, and many of
them, who were ostensibly Christians, worshiped
in secret the God of Mahomet. If he had intended
to diminish their number and destroy them gradually, he was not more successful in his design, for
under his successor, Philip III., a census of them
having been attempted, they were found to have
increased so greatly, that their enumeration had to be
given up, from an apprehension of making them
acquainted with their strength. Such was the vitality of that extraordinary race! Such was also their
industry and economical habits that, notwithstand



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         143
ing the weight of the yoke which bent their necks
down to the earth, notwithstanding the disabilities
against which they had to contend in the midst of a
hostile population who hated them with the pent-up
and accumulated hatred of eight centuries, they
were, in the course of a few years, accused by many,
and among others by such men as Cervantes, of absorbing all the current coin of Spain, which they
either concealed in secret places, or found the means
of sending out of the Kingdom. They were said to
be " sponges which sucked all the juice of the land."
They were reproached with being so keen and indefatigable in the pursuit of gain, and so tenacious of
it when once clutched by their fingers, that even a
Jew would have starved among them. Be it as it
may, it is certain that the confiscation of all the lands
and houses of the Moors in the Kingdom of Granada,
besides other spoils, and besides selling so many of
the captives as slaves, did not, as a fiscal resource,
prove of much advantage to Philip. For, shortly
after the famous battle of Lepanto, in which the naval
power of the Turks was destroyed, Don John of Aus
tria could not gather from his victory all the fruits
which ought to have been expected, " because," as he
wrote, "he had not a single real for the necessities
of the fleet, but had incurred a debt of many hundred thousands of ducats."  What had become of
the stream of gold which was to flow from that powerful machinery of confiscations, taxes and contributions so skillfully contrived and artistically put to



144           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
gether to pump the Netherlands dry? Certainly
the iron hand of the Duke of Alva had squeezed the
orange to the last drop. Two or three hundred
thousand Moors had been stripped of everything.
What had become of their substance? The fact is
that, by a just dispensation of Providence, the robber had been robbed, and Philip, if he had been susceptible of being enlightened on the subject, would
have come to the conclusion that oppression is
doomed to that sterility to which it is said that
nature condemns all monsters; that tears are not the
vivifying water which blesses the land with productiveness; that iniquity is a bad adviser, and that
spoliation is but a poor secretary of the treasury.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          145
CHAPTER V.
SUCH was the not very flattering condition of
Spain, as described in the preceding Chapter, when
an event took place, preceded, accompanied and
followed by circumstances which admirably portray
the character of Philip, together with the manners and
morals of the epoch, and which had the most fatal
consequences for what remained of the liberties of
the Kingdom of Aragon.  We have already stated
that the Princess of Eboli was suspected on good
grounds of having been the mistress of Philip.
She had been the wife of Ruy Gomez, who, from
being the playmate of the Prince in his boyhood,
had risen to become his most trusted and most
favored Minister. During her husband's life, the
Princess had been supposed to exercise great influence over Philip, by whom she and her family had
been loaded with favors. After that husband's
death, she did not seem to have lost her long-enjoyed possession of the affection of her Sovereign.
She was diminutive in size, remarkable for beauty,
haughty in temper, unconquerable in her pride,
irresistible in the exercise of the fascination with
which she had been gifted by nature, and which she
10




146           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN
had  studiously  improved; astute, unscrupulous,
loose in her morals, greedy of wealth and power,
she excelled in the management of those intrigues
which usually secure success'in a corrupt court.
She had, no doubt, materially aided her husband in
reaching and retaining the elevated position which
he had occupied until his death; and, after having
lost him, she worked in perfect accord with one of
Philip's most confidential ministers, Antonio Perez.
This man, a native of Aragon, was the natural son
of an individual of the same name, who, during
many years, had been Secretary of State under
Charles V. He had been legitimated, however, by
an Imperial decree, and had been employed by
Ruy Gomez, in his ministerial Department.  He
succeeded so well in pleasing his puissant employer,
that he soon became an inmate in his house, was
recommended by him to Philip, and was granted
almost the familiarity and the privileges of a son.
Perez had received in Spain a distinguished education, which he had completed abroad. Talent and
memory he naturally possessed in a great degree.
All the profane and sacred authors were familiar
to him, and in his travels he had acquired an extensive knowledge of the world.  He was as well
versed in the Bible and the writings of the Holy
Fathers of the Church, as in those of Tacitus, Machiavel, Horace and Ovid.  He wrote and spoke
Latin and several other languages with considerable
facility. He was so prepossessing in his person, that




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           147
he always produced a favorable impression at first
sight.  Refined in his manners, sagacious, artful,
flexible, insinuating, a thorough courtier, unsurpassed in dissimulation and self-possession, he had
won many of the frail beauties of the Court, and he
seemed even to have obtained the first place in the
cold heart of his Sovereign. He had unquestionably
become the most influential man in Spain with the
King.  He possessed his most important secrets,
dispatched the most delicate affairs of State, and
had been constituted a sort of Universal Minister,
or depositary of the Royal authority.  He had
learnt to penetrate the designs of Philip, long before
they were made known.  He then took care to
stand prepared for their gradual unfolding, facilitated their development, or modified their nature, or
even frequently checked and thwarted them, according to the promptings of his own interests,
without exciting the slightest suspicion in his master's mind.  Observing a crafty neutrality, a studied
indifference, a shrewd reserve, he never obtruded
his advice, but prudently waited until he was consulted by Philip, although he secretly angled for, or
gave birth to, the occasion. So far, all had succeeded with him on the slippery and dangerous ground
on which he was treading.  He had become the
favored lover of the Princess of Eboli, and although
the demonstrations of her passion were sufficiently
imprudent, they seem  not to have been known to
Philip, which is certainly wonderful, considering his




148           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
proneness to suspicion, the number of the spies he
had in pay, and the wide-spread activity of their
minute investigations. Perez had also had the art
of gaining the confidence of Don John of Austria,
and of his Secretary, Escovedo. He had inspired
them with so much faith in the truth of his friendship, that they had nothing concealed from him.
The arch-deceiver made use of it to discover all
their plans and aspirations, and to communicate
them to the King with exaggerations and misrepresentations to suit his purpose. In those conjunctures,
Escovedo, who, as well as Perez, had been much indebted to the protection of the Prince of Eboli, and
who had remained grateful for it, being indignant at
the scandalous intimacy which existed between the
Princess and Perez, and which seemed to him to be
an affront to the memory of his benefactor, had the
imprudence to remonstrate with them on the subject,
and threatened them  to inform  the King of their
illicit intercourse, if they did not put an end to itvolantarily. The Princess treated the officious intermeddler with the most lofty contempt; she dared him
to the worst, and even scorned to deny her predilection for Perez. This individual, when addressed by
Escovedo, was more smooth than the Princess.
But the guilty pair instantly resolved the death of
Don John's Secretary, and P'erez went to work to
accomplish it with his usual ability. He persuaded
Philip that Escovedo was fanning in Don John the
flames of a criminal ambition, and encouraging that




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         149
Prince in the pursuit of designs dangerous to the
safety of the King and the welfare of the Kingdom.
This was enough; the King ordered Perez to put
Escovedo secretly out of the way. Twice Perez,
showing warmer friendship than ever to Escovedo,
and inviting him to his table, attempted in vain to
poison him. The daggers of hired assassins were
more effectual, and  Escovedo ceased to be an
object of fear to Perez and the Princess of Eboli.
But Philip might die, and, in that case, the resentment of Don John might become fatal to Perez.
Be this supposition correct or not, a few months
after Escovedo's assassination, Don John had also
ceased to exist, and it was thought that on his body
were found all the signs of the administration of a
deadly poison.
No doubt Perez now thought himself secure
against all denunciation, and laid on his pillow a
head less disturbed by dreams of royal vengeance.
But he was watched by the sleepless enmity of one
who, for a long time, had been biding the opportunity to destroy a hated rival. That enemy was
Mateo Vasquez, one of the Ministers of Philip, and
the blow which he struck at last was well aimed.
On the 28th of July, 1579, during the night,
by order of the King, his favorite Minister, Antonio
Perez, was conveyed to a prison in Madrid, and the
Princess of Eboli was surprised to see her palace
invaded by an armed force which conducted her to
a fortress in which she was incarcerated. What




150           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
could have induced Philip, who had then attained
the mature age of fifty-three, to station himself,
mysteriously wrapped up in a cloak, under the
porch of the Church of St. Mary, opposite to the
residence of the Princess, to look at her as she
passed under escort to the place of her destined
confinement? If by the light of the torches which
flashed round her carriage the eyes of those two
personages met, how much may they have told each
other in that transient moment! Was it love, was
it hatred that had thus drawn Philip to that spot?
Or was it a mixture of both? Whatever were the
feelings pent up in the King's breast, the arrest of
Antonio Perez and of the Princess of Eboli produced almost as much sensation as had resulted
from the imprisonment of Don Carlos; and Madrid,
particularly in the precincts of the Court, was
shaken as if by an earthquake.
Antecedently to this event, Perez and the Princess of Eboli had been denounced to the King by
the family of Escovedo as guilty of the murder
of that individual,  and  permission  had  been
asked to proceed to a judicial investigation. This
had  been  done  at the  instigation  of Mateo
Vasquez. It was a bold move; for the hired assassins, who were known, had been rewarded, under
the sign-manual of the King, with lucrative offices
in Milan, Naples and Sicily. The King, however,
did not reject the application made for leave to begin a criminal prosecution against his two favorites,




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         151
but he informed Perez of what was going on and of
the manceuvres of his enemies. Perez was much
alarmed, and having expressed his fears to Philip,
that Prince treated him with affectionate familiarity, tranquillized him as a friend would another, and
assured him of his never-failing countenance and
support. Thus encouraged, Perez supplicated his
kind protector to order that he, Perez, be the only
person prosecuted, and that all proceedings be stopped against the Princess in consideration of what
was due to the honor of a lady. But the King
pursued a different course.  He requested  the
President of the Court of Castile, Don Antonio
Pazos, Bishop of Cordova, and the  particular
friend of Perez, to speak to the son of Escovedo
and induce him to withdraw the accusation. " Assure him," said the King, "that it is to my knowledge that the Princess of Eboli and Perez are as
guiltless of the death of his father as myself."
Escovedo's son, on being thus informed of the
Royal pleasure, had of course but one thing to do,
which was to desist from his accusation in the name
of his family. One would have supposed the affair
at an end, but Secretary Mateo Vasquez, notwithstanding Philip's asseveration that the Princess
and Perez were innocent, most unaccountably and
tenaciously insisted that they were guilty, and
became their accuser in his turn. He must have
known, or suspected, that in so acting he secretly
pleased the King. Thus assailed by one of his




152           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
colleagues in the Council of his Sovereign, Perez
asked leave to resign his post, but Philip did not
consent to it. As   to the Princess, she haughtily
complained to the Monarch of the conduct and
enmity of Vasquez.  She wrote to him  a note,
in which she bitterly resented the affront against
which she thought that, as a King and a gentleman,
he was bound to protect her, and she requested his
Majesty to return the note after its perusal, as it contained sentiments which she had ventured freely
to express, " under the full conviction that she was
addressing a gentleman."  The King answered
enigmatically, as one who did not seem disposed
to give her the satisfaction which she desired, but
who, at the same time, was afraid of incurring her
displeasure.  He appeared anxious that the Princes's should become reconciled with Mateo Vasquez,
and, with a view  to obtain it, he employed the
agency of Diego de Chaves, his confessor. But all
the efforts of the Priest miscarried against the
stately resolution of the Princess, who rejected all
his entreaties with imperious harshness. Baffled
in that quarter, Chaves turned to Perez, and endeavored to bring a reconciliation between him and
Mateo Vasquez; but Perez, being irritated by an
affront which he had recently received from his
-colleague, and, besides, being stimulated by the
Princess, showed himself equally inflexible.
It is impossible to imagine that Mateo Vasquez,
on that occasion, was acting a part contrary to




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          153
Philip's wishes. What the King was aiming at while
resorting to all these mysterious plays and by-plays,
plots and counterplots, and while confounding everybody with such startling contradictions, it is not easy
to conceive. Some believe that his sole object was
to gain time and acquire the proof of the relations
supposed to exist between the Princess and Perez,
and that it was when he became satisfied on this
point, that his resentment prompted him to strike
the blow which had been so long impending, and to
act as we have described, on the night of the 28th
of July, 1579. Be it as it may, here are Perez and
the Princess of Eboli incarcerated. The cause alleged by Philip for this measure was not their being
suspected of murder, but that they had refused
to be reconciled with Mateo Vasquez. A singular
ground, truly, for a criminal prosecution to rest
upon! Another singularity in this case was that,
on the next day, the King sent the Cardinal of
Toledo to console the wife of Antonio Perez for the
misfortune which had happened to her husband, and
commissioned his confessor, Chaves, to visit Perez
himself in his prison for the same purpose. Among
other things pleasant to the prisoner's ears, the
Priest told him in a sportive manner to be of good
cheer, because "'his disease was not mortal."  Notwithstanding this assurance, the prisoner had too
much sense and sagacity not to understand the perils
of his situation, and too much pride not to be mortified by his sudden fall. His health having been




154            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
altered by his anxieties, he was permitted to be
transferred from his prison to his own house. There
the Captain of the King's guard, shortly after, presented himself, and, in the name of his Majesty,
requested him to swear friendship to Mateo Vasquez,
and to promise under the same sanction of a solemn
oath that neither he, nor any member of his family,
should ever do any harm to that personage. Perez
complied with this request, and remained  eight
months confined to his house, with guards who never
lost sight of him. At the expiration of that time, he
obtained leave to go to church, to take exercise out
of doors, and to receive visits, but not to pay any.
Among all the strange features of this strange affair,
one which is no less remarkable is, that in this nominal state of arrest, Perez, who had never ceased to
be Minister, transacted all the business appertaining
to his Department, as if he had been as free as before, and that this most equivocal condition of things
continued when Philip, during the summer of 1580,
went to Portugal to take possession of that Kingdom.
Perez had, as in the past, his official relations with
all the Councils of his Majesty in Madrid, and even
with the King himself whilst at Lisbon. He corresponded with the Princess of Eboli, and lived with
as much luxury and pomp as he had displayed when
at the zenith of his favor.
The President of the Council of Castile, Pazos,
was very active in his exertions to rehabilitate
Perez, and, it was thought, with some probability of




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          155
success, when the son of Escovedo reappeared on the
stage and renewed his accusation. As to the King,
he seemed to vacillate between the accused and the
accuser, to be sick of the whole affair, and to act like
one who was desirous of setting the prisoner at
liberty, but was restrained from it by some inexplicable apprehensions. At last, after two years of
apparent hesitation, he issued a secret commission
directed to the President of the Council of Hacienda,
Rodrigo Vasquez de Arce, empowering him to institute secret judicial proceedings against Perez,
and instructing him to make the witnesses swear
that they would not divulge to anybody what they
testified before the tribunal. The trial began on
the 30th of May, 1582, and most of the witnesses
were of the highest rank. From their declarations
it appears that Perez had made enormous profits in
the exercise of his Ministerial patronage; that Don
John of Austria, that the Genoese Admiral Andrea
Doria, that Princes, Viceroys and other exalted
personages used, year after year, to make munificent
presents to him as bribes for his keeping them in
office; that the candidates for office under the Government thought it an economy to give to Perez, in
order to obtain the gratification of their desires,
what they would have spent whilst dancing attendance in the antechambers of the Court, and that, in
thus acting, they accomplished better and prompter
results; that having inherited nothing from his
father, he nevertheless possessed a colossal fortune,




156            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
and lived with more splendor than any Grandee of
Spain; that he had a variety of gorgeous equipages;
that his stables were full of horses, and that he kept
a multitude of pages and lacqueys; that the furniture
of his house was worth more than two millions of
ducats; that he had ordered for himself a bed like
that of the King; that tables for gambling were always set up in his house, where the Admiral of Castile, the Marquis of Aunon and other magnates had
lost thousands of doubloons; that his intimacy with
the Princess of Eboli was scandalous; that he was
in the habit of receiving from her, in the way of
presents, mule or horse-loads-of silver; that to him
and to the Princess of Eboli was attributed the death
of Escovedo. All these testimonies, as it is seen,
threw very little light upon the crime of murder of
which Perez was accused, and alluded merely to a
general rumor on the subject, which could not be
received as evidence in any court of justice. The
shameful venality of the Minister, the insulting display of magnificence exhibited by the upstart, his
dishonestly acquired opulence, his licentious morals
and habits, his illicit intercourse with the Princess
of Eboli, were sufficiently established, although irrelevant to the prosecution. Notwithstanding all
that was thus proved before the Secret Tribunal,
there was no change made in the lenient manner in
which he was treated, and he remained in the same
state of semi-arrest.  It is difficult to believe that
all these circumstances were not known to Philip




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.        157
long before; for it is a matter of history how marvelously well served he was by his Police of Spies,
and what a delight he took in being made acquainted, not only with all the particulars of the life of his
Courtiers, but also of some of his humblest subjects.
If Philip had not been ignorant of the criminal deportment of his Minister, how came he, for so many
years, not only to tolerate it, but even to continue
his favor to the perpetrator of such offences? If
he had not been aware of their existence, how is it
that, as soon as they were revealed to him, he did
not punish Perez accordingly, and did not even sentence him to a more rigorous imprisonment? Fearful must have been the secrets which bound together
the Monarch and his Secretary of State, and great
must have been the precautions which Perez must
have taken, and the pledges and securities which
he must have had in his hands, to protect himself
against such a man as Philip, and keep him at bay
in case of necessity.
Nothing further was done for three years, and the
prosecution seemed to have gone to sleep, when, in
the beginning of 1585, a new turn was given to this
affair. The time having come when, according to
the usages and laws of Spain, public functionaries
had to render to a Commissioner appointed by the
Sovereign an account of the manner in which they
had discharged their duties, Philip ordered Don
Tomas de Salazar, a Member of the Council of the
Inquisition, to examine into the administration of




158           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
his Ministers of State. This was a Special Tribunal,
before which the acts of a public functionary were
arraigned, without his being given a copy of the
proceedings, or a list of the witnesses heard against
him. It resulted from the investigations of Salazar,
that heavy charges were proved against Perez, and,
among others, that he had divulged secrets of State,
and that he had made alterations, additions and suppressions in diplomatic dispatches written in cipher;
and, in particular, that he had falsified the correspondence of Don John of Austria. Perez justified
himself by saying that, in these matters, he had
acted according to the King's instructions.  But,
notwithstanding this defence, he was condemned,
without the observation on his behalf of the accustomed formalities in such cases, and on the simple
and mere finding of the Royal Commissioner, Don
Tomas de Salazar, to a fine of thirty thousand ducats,
to be suspended from office for ten years, to be imprisoned in a fortress for two, and, at the expiration
of which, to be exiled from  the Court for eight
years. According to orders, two Alcaldes went to
his house to take possession of his person, and found
him quietly conversing with his wife. Whilst one
of the Alcaldes was searching for papers, the prisoner
very artfully deceived the vigilance of the other,
and, entering into a contiguous room, jumped through
a window which opened on the Church of San Justo,
in which he took refuge. The Alcaldes raised the
hue and cry, and with a number of assistants ran to




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          159
the church.  The doors, being closed, were soon
battered down on admittance being refused. Nothing intimidated by the sanctity of the place, and
after having thus forced their entrance into the
temple, the Alcaldes searched it with scrupulous attention, and at last found Perez hidden under the
roof of the edifice. They laid hold of him, put him
in a carriage, and drove him to the Castle of Turegano, where he was to undergo his sentence. Thus
far the Minister appears to have been condemned
for peculations and other official abuses, but of the
murder of Escovedo not a word was said.
The forcible extraction of Perez from the sanctuary whither he had fled for security, gave rise to a
conflict of jurisdiction between the ecclesiastical and
civil authorities. The Church demanded the restoration of the prisoner, and censured the Alcaldes for their
sacrilegious violation of the sanctity of a sacred place.
The Court, in the name of which the Alcaldes had acted, refused to give up the prisoner. This quarrel lasted
two years, until Philip made up his mind to order
the ecclesiastical censures and other proceedings
held in the case by the clergy to be withdrawn and
annulled. In the mean time Perez remained in irons
in the fortress of Turegano; all his property had
been sequestrated, and he had not been permitted
to communicate with any of his friends. Such was
his condition, when the King went to Aragon to
hold the Cortes of that Kingdom, the time for the
meeting of that body having arrived' He was ac



160           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
companied by Rodrigo Vasquez, who was the Judge
appointed to take cognizance of the criminal prosecution instituted against Perez in relation to the murder of Escovedo. It looks as if the King was conscious that something would turn up in Aragon
concerning Perez, in which the ministry of the Judge
would be required.  We have felt some curiosity to
ascertain whether Judge Rodrigo Yasquez was a
relative of Secretary Mateo Vasquez, one of the
most ardent prosecutors of Perez, but we have
not been able to gratify our desire.  Be it as
it may, as soon as the King arrived in Aragon,
another change took place in this extraordinary
trial, which seemed to be constantly assuming different hues like the dying dolphin. It will be remembered that, to this time, very little had been
said and still less had been proved about the assassination of Escovedo.  But, in Aragon, one Antonio Enriquez came forward, avowed himself one of
the assassins at the instigation of Perez, and offered
to tell the whole truth about that crime, because, as
he stated, his brother's life had lately been endangered by an attempt made by Perez to poison him.
His declarations made known, for the first time, all
the circumstances of the assassination and the names
of those who had participated in it as accomplices.
The wife and the major-domo of Perez became implicated in this affair.
Informed of all that had taken place, and afraid
of the consequences of the revelations made by En



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          161
riquez, Perez sought to fly from his prison. Two
mares of extreme fleetness, and shod with shoes reversed, so that his pursuers might be deceived as to
the direction he had taken, were kept in readiness
by his friends. But his plan was discovered before
it could be executed, and he was condemned to an
imprisonment still more rigorous.  His wife and
sons were also incarcerated, and debarred communication with the outer world. Philip's confessor,.
Diego de Chaves, and the Count de Parejas, President of the Council of Castile, visited her in her cell,
and demanded the surrender of the papers of her
husband. She stoutly refused for a long time, until
Perez, who was afraid, on her behalf, of the consequences of her obstinate refusal, found the means of
sending to her a note written with his own blood, in
which he requested her to surrender two boxes
which he designated to her. She obeyed, and put
them, closed and sealed as they were, into the hands
of the confessor, who received them  with great
demonstrations of joy and carried them to Philip.
This was in 1587. - Eight years had already elapsed
since the night when Perez and the Princess of
Eboli had been arrested. As soon as the surrender
of these boxes was made, the wife and sons of Perez:
were set at liberty, and he himself was treated with
more leniency. He was brought back to Madrid
from the fortress where he had been confined, and
was permitted to occupy a private house, which was
assigned to him as his prison, but in which, to the
11




162           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
astonishment of all, he was allowed a considerable
degree of freedom  of action. He received visits,
and was sometimes seen in the streets. The public
mind was greatly excited at this novelty.  What
did it mean?  Was a man, whom witnesses had
sworn to be guilty of murder and of so many other
crimes, travelling back, on the high road of royal
favor, to the possession of as much power as he had
enjoyed before?  Rodrigo Vasquez, the Judge in
the case, being interrogated by his friends on the
subject, replied: "What shall I tell you? The
King himself sometimes stimulates me, and directs
the hand with which I grasp the accused, and sometimes pulls it back, and checks all proceedings. I
do not understand it, nor do I venture to penetrate
into the mystery of the relations existing between
the Sovereign and his vassal."  Whatever those relations were, it is evident that the King had found
his match. Perez knew Philip thoroughly, and had
so taken his precautions that the master could not
strike at his servant without striking at himself.
The two boxes which had been so anxiously coveted
did not probably contain all the documents which
Philip desired to get back. Perez had been too
astute, notwithstanding his apparent compliance, to
thrust his head entirely into the lion's mouth, without interposing something to prevent the ferocious
beast from bringing together the upper and lower
row of his formidable teeth. Hence the trial was
kept slowly and innocuously dragging itself along,




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           163
like a half-torpid snake which might, however, at
any time, be sufficiently roused to sting and kill.
But, although moving sluggishly, the trial still
went on. The Major-domo, Diego Martinez, and the
wife of Perez, denied all participation in or knowledge of the assassination, either as accomplices or
otherwise; and, with regard to Perez, six witnesses
were, introduced on his behalf to rebut the testimony of Enriquez.  The guilt of the accused, therefore, remained a matter of uncertainty, and he wrote
to the King several pressing letters, in which he
begged his Majesty to bring the trial to a close.
But Philip paid no attention to the supplications of
his former favorite minister, and contented himself
with delivering those letters to his confessor and to
Judge Rodrigo Vasquez, with instructions to annex
them  to the proceedings.  On the other hand, the
son of Escovedo petitioned the King for further delay, in ord r to look round for other proofs.  In
these conjunctures, the Royal confessor, Don Diego de
Chaves, wrote successively two letters to Perez,
exhorting him to confess the truth, which, if known,
would clear him from all guilt and open the doors
of his prison. "The vassal," said the priest, " who
kills another man by the order of his Sovereign, is
free from all blame, because the King, being master
of the lives of his subjects, can dispose of the same
as he pleases, either with or without the formalities
of a trial, and in any way he deems it expedient,
because he has the right to dispense with all judi



164            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
cial proceedings, and because it is proper to suppose
that he takes such a course on just grounds. Thus,
the criminal prosecution must stop on your declaring the truth, and Escovedo will have to be satisfied
with the action of his Majesty. If not, he will be
ordered to keep silent, to leave the Court, and to be
grateful that no more is done to him, without declaring to him what it might be, because it is never
necessary to make any such revelation on any occasion."
With such confessors to guide his conscience, it is
not astonishing that Philip should have acted as he
did during his long life, and should have died without remorse, and without fearing that he had forfeited his claims to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.
As to Perez, he easily understood that the advice of
the confessor was a snare to entrap him. If he admitted that he had murdered Escovedo by the order
of the King, he was bound to prove it, or be sent to
the scaffold; and if he proved it by producing some
written authority given by his Majesty, he would be
guilty of revealing a State secret, of having deceived
his master when pretending to have delivered all
the papers in his possession, and of having betrayed
him at last, notwithstanding the private as well as
official confidence so long reposed by the Liege Lord
in the fidelity and discretion of his vassal. Perez,
therefore, artfully avoided the breakers ahead, to
which his bark would have drifted, if he had followed the direction  pointed out by the subtle




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          165
priest, and preferred negotiating with the accuser.
In consequence of this determination, Escovedo's
son was first intimidated by a threatening anonymous letter, and was next offered a large sum of
money to retire from the prosecution and be no
longer a party to the suit. He consented to it, and,
by a written act formally and solemnly registered
in Court, he desisted from all further proceedings
against Perez, and declared himself satisfied of his
innocence. With this document in hand, Perez
prayed that his trial be closed, as the party aggrieved
had withdrawn his complaint, unless somebody else
appeared against him.  Thus this curious affair
seemed to be at an end this time, when Judge Rodrigo Yasquez persuaded the King, or the King
feigned to be persuaded, that the royal name having been brought into play, and actually committed
by a rumor which had spread through the public,
and which attributed to him the assassination of Escovedo through the agency of the Secretary of State,
the honor of the Crown required, should the rumor
be founded on any truth, that Antonio Perez should
be compelled to declare and prove judicially the
justice of the motive which had led to that summary
and sanguinary execution. The accused, who was
already congratulating  himself on his fortunate
escape, was struck with amazement on receiving
from the Judge the following communication, addressed to that functionary under the hand and seal
of Philip himself: "Mr. President, you may tell




166           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
Antonio Perez (and, if necessary, you may show
him these lines) that he knows full well the part
which I had in the death of Escovedo, and the reasons which he gave me for it. Considering that, for
my personal satisfaction and for the rest of my conscience, it suits me to know if those reasons were
sufficient or not, I order him to communicate them
to you, and to prove clearly that what he had said
to me on that occasion was true. I have already imparted to you minutely all that he told me, in order
that you should proceed to its verification according
to my intentions."
This new complication, in an affair sufficiently dark
and perplexing friom the beginning, came upon the
public like a thunder-clap in a serene day. There
were no bounds to the general astonishment. " Sir,"
said the Archbishop of Toledo to the Royal Confessor, "I am either mad myself, or there is madness
in these proceedings. If the King ordered Perez
to have Escovedo killed, what account does he ask
at the hands of his agent, and to what purpose?
Let him reflect and he will see it." But notwithstanding these observations, the accused was subjected to a
closer imprisonment, and some of the doors and
windows of the house he occupied were nailed or
walled up. Perez challenged Judge Vasquez on suggesting probably a want of impartiality, but Philip
maintained him  in the exercise of his judicial
functions. He gave him, however, an adjunct in
the person of Juan Gomez, a member of the Royal




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          167
Council. The accused, being repeatedly interrogated as to the causes of the death of Escovedo,
replied perseveringly that he had nothing to say
beyond what was on record against him. Displeased with his refusal to answer the interrogatories,
the Judges ordered him to be put in irons, and his
wife to be again arrested. But this treatment did
not shake the determination which Perez had taken
to remain silent, although he was, several times,
earnestly pressed to comply with the request contained in the King's letter to the Tribunal.  To
conquer his obstinacy, the Court determined to
submit him to the torture. In vain he invoked in
his favor one of the privileges of Spanish nobility
-that of being exempt from the application of this
barbarous process of obtaining proofs of imputed
delinquencies or crimes. The Judges were inexorable, and the grim executioner of the law presented
himself to Perez in his dungeon with the terrible
apparatus which belonged to his functions. He
stripped of his clothes the former Secretary of State
and confidential servant of Philip, tied his arms
crosswise on his breast, and proceeded to the several
operations of the torture in the presence of the
Judges, whose silent and  ruthless insensibility
contrasted strangely with the bodily contortions
and the dismal shrieks of the patient. At last, the
fortitude of Perez yielded to his physical sufferings,
and, to escape from the continuance of his horrible torments, he declared the political causes which had




168            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
led to the death of Escovedo, and which were such
as we have already briefly mentioned in the preceding pages.  He also averred that he had been silent
thus far, to maintain his fidelity to the King, and to
comply with the written order of his  Majesty
enjoining him  never to reveal that secret.  The
infliction of the torture produced a very serious
illness, which endangered the life of Perez.  A physician declared that Perez had been thrown into a
violent fever, and that death would certainly ensue,
if he was not properly attended to, as his situation
required. Due attention was paid to the medical
recommendation, and Perez was permitted to be
assisted by a servant. Shortly after, his disconsolate wife, who had been released from her imprisonment, and his afflicted children, were so incessantly
active in their solicitations, that they obtained, by
dint of imploring tears and touching lamentations,
leave to have access to the sufferer and to offer him
their consolations and ministering cares. It was
then that Perez, convinced that his implacable enemies had resolved on his utter ruin, meditated and
prepared to fly as soon as his health should permit.
When that time came, every arrangement having
been made, Perez, assuming the dress of his wife,
and concealed under the long veil which she usually
wore, passed  through  his guards without being
discovered at nine o'clock in the evening of the 19th
of April, 1590, and, without encountering any other
danger than that which he ran on meeting a patrol,




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          169
succeeded in joining some friends who were awaiting him outside of the walls of the city. Although
very feeble, and still with aching limbs, he took
to horse, and did not stop until he reached Aragon
in safety. It will be recollected that he was a
native of that Kingdom, under the shield of whose
privileges and immunities he had always intended
to seek shelter, and where he hoped to find assistance and protection.
On the next day, the flight of Perez being known,
his wife and sons were incarcerated, and an order
was sent to Aragon to seize him and bring him
back dead or alive. The order overtook him in
Calatayud, the second town of that Kingdom in importance, but he had already taken refuge in a
convent of Dominicans, and when the King's Emissary presented himself to arrest the fugitive, he was
opposed by a Deputy of the Kingdom, Don Juan de
Luna, at the head of forty Arquebusiers.  From
Calatayud Antonio Perez wrote a very humble
letter to the King, in which  he explained the
reasons of his flight, apologized for it, and begged
that his wife and children be sent to him. He forwarded copies of his letter to Cardinal Quiroga and
to the Confessor of Philip, Don Diego de Chaves.
In the mean time, Gil de la Mesa, a relative of
Perez, had gone to Saragoza to claim for that individual the benefit of the privilege of the Manifestacion, which constituted one of the most remarkable
franchises possessed by Aragon.  What was called




170            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
Manifestacion was the act by which the accused,
the prosecuted, or the aggrieved, presented himself
in person, or through some duly authorized agent,
before the Chief-Justice, or any of his delegates, to
solicit the protection of the Court. From that moment, the King lost all judicial authority over his
subject, was reduced to the part of an informer, or
accuser, and was bound by the decision of the
Chief-Justice, from which there was no appeal. The
place where the persons seeking the protection of
this privilege were detained was called the prison
of the Manifestacion, or of the Fueros. Perez, being
transferred to Saragoza, was put in the prison of
the Manifestacion under the tutelary  egis of the
Supreme Magistracy of the Kingdom. He had taken
care, beforehand, to gain the sympathies of his compatriots.  But when he showed them the marks of
the torture on his limbs;when he told them  that
such was the arbitrary and cruel treatment inflicted
on a nobleman and one of their fellow-citizens, in
defiance of the privileges to which he was entitled
as his birthright; when he told them that he appealed with confidence to those glorious laws of his free
native country which had, for centuries, been found
sufficiently powerful to protect the weakest against
the strongest, the Aragonese, among whose national
traits of character that of being disposed to side with
the oppressed and to bridle the royal authority had
been conspicuous in all ages, exhibited the most
intense interest in his favor.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          171
The King, in conformity with the customs, laws
and usages of Aragon, appeared by proxy before the
Chief-Justice, and accused Perez of the death of
Escovedo, of having falsified ciphered dispatches,
of having revealed State secrets, and of having
criminally fled from the prison where he was legally
detained by virtue of the Royal authority. The
Marquis of Almenara, who had been sent by Philip
to Saragoza on a special mission, to obtain from the
Aragonese that they should renounce the privilege
which they possessed of having for their Viceroy no
other than a native of that Kingdom, was instructed,
besides, to press the trial of Perez with the most
earnest diligence. In the meanwhile, the lingering
criminal prosecution so long pending in Madrid was
now pushed on with vigor, as if Perez had been present, and embraced additional charges, among which
was that of his having poisoned Pedro de la Hera
and Rodrigo Margado. His scandalous amours with
the Princess of Eboli, which do not seem, however,
to have constituted any offence punishable by law,
became also the subject of the most searching examination, and copies of all the proceedings and testimonies were sent duly sealed and certified to the
Marquis of Almenara in Saragoza. At last, on the
10th of June, 1590, the Court sitting in Madrid
found Perez guilty, sentenced him to death, and to
be paraded, before his execution, through the streets,
according to the established usage. Iis head was
to be cut off, and hung up conspicuously in some




172           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
public place. His whole property was confiscated
for the benefit of the Crown, after deducting from it
what might be found necessary to pay the costs of
the trial. But this judgment could not be executed
against the person of Perez in Aragon, and was to
remain a mere btutumzfulmzen, unless sanctioned and
enforced by the authorities of that Kingdom.
But whilst Perez had been doomed to the scaffold
in Madrid, he had been writing from his prison in
Saragoza several letters to the King. At first, his
tone was humble and bland, but it soon became resolute and threatening.  He begged Philip not to
compel him to make certain disclosures which might
damage the reputation of persons of much consequence, and might even affect the honor of his Majesty, because, although it was believed that he had
parted with all his papers, he still had retained
some which might be sufficient for his discharge.
Not satisfied with this, he sent to Court Father
Gotor, to whom he had confidentially shown certain
original notes from Philip, commanding him to put
Escovedo to death. The priest was instructed to
give the King to understand verbally, that it would
be decorous for the Crown to stop all prosecution
against Perez and to restore him at once to liberty.
Seeing, however, that the King answered not his
letters as he had hoped, but, on the contrary, was
doing the very reverse of what he prayed for; that
the Judges in Madrid had condemned him to capital
punishment; that in Aragon his trial was continued,




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          173
and that his imprisonment had been made more
rigorous at the request of the agents of the King, he
resolved to justify himself before the Judges of that
Kingdom, by presenting to them a memorial which
contained copies of the original notes from the King
in relation to Escovedo's death and other matters,
and also copies of the letters of the Confessor Don
Diego de Chaves, to which we have already referred.
By these documents Perez proved that, if he had
altered the sense of dispatches in ciphers, it was
by the authority of the King and of those very personages from whom  they came, and also that he had
caused Escovedo to be killed in conformity with the
Royal pleasure.
The boldness with which Perez made these revelations, and his avowed determination  to divulge
other mysteries, alarmed Philip to such a degree
that he solemnly desisted from the criminal prosecution which he had begun in his name before the
Supreme Court of Aragon. The reasons which he
gave for taking such a step are consigned in a document under his Royal seal, which purported to be
issued " in the name of God," and which he ordered
to be filed in Court, " to make those reasons known
to all;" and it is not the least extraordinary feature
in this extraordinary affair, that he should have
made the confessions which are thus on record.  " It
would not have been difficult for us," said the King,
"to have convicted Perez of all the accusations
brought against him, and to have obtained his being




174           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
punished for his crimes. It is because it was our
intention to have proved his guilt to the satisfaction
of all, that he was prosecuted in the usual way, in
conformity with all the dilatory formalities of the
law. But Antonio Perez, taking advantage of this
our Royal disposition, and fearing the result of the
proceedings against him, defends himself in such a
manner that, in order to meet him on the ground
where he has placed himself, it would be necessary
to treat of affairs more grave than usually come
within the province of judicial investigations, to
divulge secrets which it would not be proper to make
public, and to bring forward persons whose reputation and dignity it is more important to preserve
than to secure the condemnation of said Perez. For
these considerations, I have deemed it less inconvenient to cease to prosecute the accused before the
High Court of Aragon."  The King, however, took
that occasion to asseverate " that the delinquencies
of Perez were so heinous, not only in their nature,
but also on account of the time and manner of their
perpetration and of other circumstances, that no
vassal had ever been guilty of the like toward his
King and Liege Lord. Wherefore he had desired
it to be recorded, in order that it should never be
forgotten, and, in so doing, he only complied with his
obligations as King." Philip declared moreover in
that document, " that he wished it to be distinctly
understood that he made a special reservation of all
the rights which he possessed as King of Aragon,




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          175
and as King of Castile, jointly and severally, to prosecute Aintonio Perez, when he chose, either criminally or civilly, by way of accusation, or in any other
form  as he might please, for any of the delinquencies
which that individual had committed, as a servant
against his master, as a Minister against his Sovereign, and l s a vassal against his Liege Lord."
Thus we see Philip, notwithstanding his implacable
temper, sacrifieiiyf what must have been his intense
desire to punish Gne "who had done him  such
wrongs as no subject had ever been guilty of against
his Prince," to the fear of the revelation of certain
secrets.  How terrible and infamous must they have
been! It is inexplicable that a man so cautious as
Philip should have driven the possessor of such
secrets to such an extremity of despair, as to compel
him to make known to the world that there existed
such a partnership of dark criminality between the
Monarch and the fallen Minister.  It is probable
that he would have long before dealt with Perez in
a more summary way, and secured his silence by
those occult means which he never scrupled to use,
if he had not apprehended, or been informed that,
in such a case, there would be found an avenger, in
whose hands the proofs of those secrets had been
safely placed.
But the King, notwithstanding the relinquishment
of his complaints before the Supreme Tribunal of
Aragon, had not given up his intention of destroying his hated subject. He had found the path in




176           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
which he had ventured to be perilous, and he resolved to take some other one which might lead him
more safely to the gratification of his vengeance.
One of the expedients to which he resorted was to
charge Perez, after having dropped all other accusations against him, with having poisoned Pedro
de la Hera and Rodriguez Margado.  The other was
to call in Aragon for a court of inquest (enquesta),
which was equivalent to that of Tisita or Residencia in Castile, whose special jurisdiction was to examine the manner in which public officers had performed their functions. Perez argued with great
force that, having never filled any office in Aragon,
he could not be subject to any Court of Inquest in
that Kingdom. He also defended himself with much
ability against the accusation of his having administered poison to La Hera and to Margado. And well
did he need all his consummate skill and the assistance of all his friends to cope with the tremendous
influence which the King brought to bear against
him; for the agents of Philip were innumerable;
they were indefatigable, and some of them were of
the highest rank. Threats, promises, blandishments
were used unsparingly; even the seductions of gold
were not left untried. The main object was not to
have Perez condemned to death, because it was
doubtful whether such a sentence could be obtained
and executed in Aragon, but to get him out of that
Kingdom and bring him back to Castile. Therefore
his enemies were content with soliciting a mere de



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          177
cree of banishment from Aragon, well knowing that
he would then fall infallibly into the hands of the
King.
The Junta or Council of Madrid, in a deliberation
of the 20th of September, 1590, resolved on advising
the King to have Perez dispatched in any manner
that should be effective; "because," as they said to
their royal master, "there is no reason to scruple
about the choice of the means to execute the sentence pronounced against him, if it cannot be done
in the ordinary way. If it is lawful for any individual to kill any bandit who has been doomed to
capital punishment by a Court of Justice and who
cannot be seized by its officers, it follows that your
Majesty has a much more evident right to order the
execution, in any form which may be deemed expedient, of him whom you have found guilty, and who
has fled from  the application of your sentence.
Princes, for the good government of their dominions,
are in the habit of using strong and extraordinary
remedies, when mild and ordinary ones are not sufficient to check crimes, or cure evil practices. To
carry into effect the intended execution of Perez,
there is no lack of means......... and, in case it
should be necessary, those means will have to be
considered."  The logic of the Junta was not unacceptable to the King, for he put the following note
on the margin of the document which contained the
reasonings and conclusions of his advisers: " It will
be proper to examine all that which may be done in
12




178           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
conformity to what is here expressed. But in relation to what is said about the means of execution in
case they should be required, it seems to me that it
would be better to treat of them at once, and to resolve upon them beforehand, so as to meet all the
exigencies which may happen, and have everything
prepared, should there be any understanding on the
subject, because otherwise the emergencies might
come when too late to execute what might be determined."  Nature had not given Philip a generous
heart to counteract the baleful effects of a bigoted
mind, and when it is seen in whose custody he had
placed his religious, moral and political conscience,
it may not be so difficult to understand how he may
have deluded himself into the belief that he was acting uprightly, as is maintained by those who have
endeavored to defend his memory, when he was
committing acts of atrocious villainy.
Judgment was on the eve of being pronounced in
Aragon by the Court of Inquest in relation to the
manner in which Perez had discharged his functions
as Minister of State, and also by the other tribunal
to which the accusation against him for poisoning La
Hera and Margado had been referred, when the accused was, by a new expedient, withdrawn from
their jurisdiction. This was due to a sudden inspiration of the Marquis of Almenara, which seemed
excellent to Philip, and which consisted in a device
to surrender Perez to the Inquisition. That active
agent of the King suggested to him that Perez,




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          179
being claimed by that terrible tribunal, could not
invoke against it the protection of the laws of Aragon, and that he would be taken out of the prison
of the Manifestacion to be carried to the dungeons
of the Holy Office, where the royal resentment
would reach him with ease, secrecy and security,
But what could be the charges on which to proceed
against him before the Inquisition? They were difficult to be found, and yet it will be seen what
slight pretext was sufficient to make a man amenable to the dreaded jurisdiction of that tribunal.
Perez had fled from Castile with his Secretary, who
was a Genoese named Juan Francisco Mayorini, and
who became the companion of his captivity in Aragon. Although surrounded with so many friends in
that Kingdom, and shielded by its fueros, or privileges and immunities, both, being alarmed for their
safety, determined again to take refuge elsewhere,
and resolved to repair to the small Principality
of Bearne, between the Kingdom of Navarre and
that of France. That was enough. On their plan being discovered, they were accused of heresy, merely
because they had intended to go to a country full of
heretics. Besides, there were witnesses who swore
that they had heard Perez and Mayorini utter certain phrases, or exclamations, which it is not unusual for men to use in fits of anger, impatience, or
despair, and which really mean nothing, but which
might sound like blasphemies, if taken literally.
These were certainly slim and narrow grounds, but




180           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
they afforded space enough for the goat-like foot of
the Inquisition to stand upon, and to reach its intended victims. Among other inconsiderate things,
Perez had said, on his being accused by the King of
having deciphered dispatches falsely and revealed
secrets of State, that "he had proceeded to justify
himself without being deterred by considerations for
the honor of anybody, and that he would slit the
nose of God the Father Himself, if He should attempt to prevent him (Perez) from showing in what
a perverse and ungentlemanly manner he had been
treated by the King." Such expressions, with others,
more or less irreverential, were submitted to Philip's
confessor, Don Diego de Chaves, who was also a
commissary of the Holy Office, and he pronounced
them to be scandalous, offensive to pious ears, and
smelling of heresy. In consequenee of this declaration of one of its officers, the Supreme Tribunal of
the Inquisition ordered its subordinate one in Saragoza to immure Antonio Perez and Mayorini in
one of its secret prisons. On receiving this mandate, the Inquisitors of Saragoza issued a decree by
which they revoked and annulled all the privileges
of the Manifestacion, so far as they impeded the
free exercise of their authority. They demanded of
the Justicia or Chief-Justice, and of his delegates,
the surrender of the bodies of Perez and Mayorini,
under the penalty, in case of a refusal, of excommunication in the first degree, and they threatened to
subject to their judicial proceedings whomsoever




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          181
should dare to oppose the execution of their requisition. The futsticia Mayor or Chief-Justice, Don
Juan de Lanuza, had been spoken to and gained by
the Marquis of Almenara, and he was in the CouncilRoom with the five subordinate dignitaries who constituted his Court, when the Secretary of the Inquisition presented himself. The order was immediately
given to deliver to him Perez and Mayorini, and he
had them transported at night, in a close carriage,
to the prison of the Holy Office.
But notwithstanding the secrecy with which the
transfer of the prisoners had taken place, the news of it
spread instantaneously among the people, who rushed tumultuously into the streets, shouting: "Breach
of privilege! Breach of privilege! Long live our liberties!" And the same excitement diffused itself like
an electric fluid through the whole of Aragon. Perez,
who had for many years foreseen that it would be the
best shelter he might have against the storm with
which he saw himself threatened, had neglected no
means to secure powerful friends among the magnates of that Kingdom and to gain the favor of the
middle classes and of the populace, and had met
with complete success. But the interest which he
excited was not merely personal, although they considered that, if not innocent, yet he was hunted
down rather with the fierceness of blind hatred,
than fairly put on his trial with that impartiality
which justice requires. Granting even the commission of all the crimes with which he was charged,




182            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
some of them at least were attended with attenuating
circumstances in the opinion of the multitude. Besides, he was the victim of royal persecution, his
body bore the marks of the rack, and be had been
eleven years in prison! They forgot the delinquencies of the once omnipotent Minister, and, with
characteristic generosity, remembered only the sufferings of the wretched fugitive, who was stripped of
all his wealth and honors, and who begged but for
life.  The popular feeling, therefore, ran high in
favor of Perez, for he had had the address to connect his cause with that of the maintenance of those
privileges and liberties of which the Aragonese were
so proud, and from that moment the personal interest which he had inspired had merged into a national
one. To save Perez, or to save the Fueros, or franchises of the Kingdom, became a synonymous idea
in the mind of the people.  Hence the sudden rising
of an infuriated mob and the deafening cries of " Our
liberties, or death!" A column of the rioters marched in the direction of the palace of the Marquis of
Almenara, one of the most active agents of Philip,
and to whom they attributed chiefly the violation of
their privileges.  The Marquis, on his arrival in
Saragoza, had displayed an ostentatious mode of living to which the inhabitants of that city were not
accustomed.  It certainly was not in harmony with
the simplicity of their  tastes, the  frugality of
their habits, and the austerity of their disposition.
They had been highly disgusted with the object of




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         183
his mission, and their pride had been shocked by
what they thought an arrogant manifestation of
superiority of rank and wealth.  The aversion
which the Marquis had inspired was such, that it
was impossible to be his friend, or even to associate
with him, without being looked upon as a public
enemy. Such being the sentiments entertained for
him, it was evident that his danger had become imminent. Therefore, on receiving notice of the commotion in the city, he had barricaded himself in his
palace, which, with the aid of his numerous household, he prepared bravely to defend, for he was a
man of resolution. The Justicia, or Chief-Justice,
with his subordinates, and his two sons, Don Juan
and Don Pedro de Lanuza, had hastened to his
assistance, and were endeavoring to save his life by
assuring the people that they had come to arrest
him. They told the most furious of the rioters that
it was their duty to retire and to leave the object of
their hatred in the hands of the regularly constituted authorities, in whom they were bound to have
confidence. This, however, did not satisfy them,
and they battered down the doors of the palace with
a beam which they used like a ram. They found Almenara in the midst of a group composed of the
Chief-Justice and other public officers, who had
made a rampart of their bodies to protect him. This
sight checked the populace, who permitted the Marquis and his escort to come out, and to proceed in
the direction of the place where he was to be incar



184            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
cerated.  But in the streets the crowd thronged
around them, and seemed to labor under increasing
excitement.  The shouts were deafening, and the
imprecations and gesticulations became more alarming, as the Marquis and his guards advanced toward
a public square near which they were to pass and
which was full of people. It became almost impossible to push them back, and they pressed so hard
and so close on the small band that was conveying
Almenara to a place of safety, that the Chief-Justice,
who was old and infirm, fell down and was so much
bruised that he had to retire. The enemies of the
Marquis availed themselves of this circumstance,
and, no longer satisfied with applying to him the
most opprobrious epithets, they inflicted serious
blows on his person, and several times struck him
in the face with their daggers.  Faint, dizzy, and
covered with blood, he reached at last his destined
prison, but died fifteen days afterward from a fever
caused, it is said, more by his mortification at the
insults which he had received than by the gravity
of his wounds.
Whilst some of the rioters had been invading the
palace of Almenara, others had gone to the Tribunal
and prison of the Inquisition, and had boldly demanded that the two prisoners be remanded to the prison
of the Manifestacion, from which they had been removed. As the Inquisitors did not seem disposed
to yield, the vociferations of the rioters showed that,their fury was thoroughly aroused, and voices were




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           185
heard crying: "If you do not surrender the prisoners, we will burn you as you burn others."  The
Inquisitors were still deliberating on what they had
to do, when they received a note from the Archbishop, advising them to grant what was desired, as it
was the only way to put an end to the popular
tumult. The Bishop of Teruel, who was Viceroy
of Aragon, many magistrates, many members of the
Clergy, and several magnates, such as the Counts
of Aranda and Morata, presented themselves successively before the Inquisitors, and urged them to
comply with the request of the multitude, if they
did not want to give occasion to worse excesses than
what had already happened at the palace of the
Marquis of Almenara.  After much hesitation, the
majority of the Inquisitors became inclined to follow
this prudent advice; but one of them, Father Molina
de Medrano, vehemently protested against it, on the
ground that it was better for them to be buried under the ruins of the building which they occupied,
than to gratify the rebellious rabble. This, however,
did not seem to be to the taste of his colleagues. At
last, after having received a second and a third note
from the Archbishop, pressing them not to persist in
their refusal, they consented to give up their prisoners, reserving to themselves the right of considering
Perez and Mayorini, when in the prison of the Manifestacion, as being there in the name and by the
authority of the Holy Office. The rioters either did
not hear of this reservation, or probably cared very




186           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
little for it, as it was, after all, but a senseless fiction,
with which it was unnecessary to quarrel. The important point was to gain possession of the prisoners, and when they were delivered to the Viceroy
and some of the judicial magistrates of the Kingdom,
the people were satisfied with their triumph. They
surrounded and escorted the coach which contained
Perez and Mayorini, shouting with joyous enthusiasm: " Liberty! liberty! Long live our liberties! "
They even recommended to Perez to show himself
three times every day at the grated window of his
prison, in order that they might be sure that their
Fueros, or privileges, had not been again secretly
violated. As soon as the doors of the prison of the
Mlanifestacion closed on Perez and his companion,
the mob quietly dispersed, and their leaders, who,
most of them, were men of distinction, went to
their respective homes.  But, fearful of another
attempt on the part of the Inquisition to seize
again their intended victims, they summoned to Saragoza numerous bands of the stout and hardy
inhabitants of the neighboring mountains.  They
accused two of the subordinate officers of the ChiefJustice of being partial to Almenara, and the Tribunal de los,fudicantes, which was composed of
seventeen men specially commissioned to take cognizance of similar denunciations, condemned the
accused to deprivation of office and exile. In the
mean time, the people patrolled the streets at night
in imposing force, and would occasionally fire shots




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          187
at such of the employees of the Holy Office as they
met accidentally.  Whilst the populace was thus
testifying its hatred for the Inquisition, learned men
were rummaging the archives of the city and studying
documents to show that the Inquisition had ceased
to exist legally, on account of the infringement of those
conditions on which it had been introduced in the
Kingdom.
Philip was then engaged in a war against France.
He probably thought that his hands were full.
Partly for this reason, no doubt, and partly because
of his natural sluggishness and of his love for temporizing, he acted with but little energy against
those who had thus set him at defiance in Saragoza,
and seemed even to shrink in some sort from the
necessity of inflicting punishment. He wrote to the
principal cities of Aragon that it had never been his
intention to violate their franchises, and that his sole
object had been to deliver to the proper tribunal
those who had sinned against the true faith. He
contented himself with instructing the Inquisitors to
publish the Bull of Pius V. against all those who
should oppose the free exercise of the authority of
the Holy Office, and to take the necessary means to
have Perez and Mayorini replaced in their possession.  Philip did not indicate those means, and to
find them was no easy task for those to whom he had
signified his desire. The Bull, however, was published as he wished, but it was received with very
little respect by the Aragonese. They assailed it




188           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
with pasquinades and insulting writings which they
posted up in all the public places, and with satirical
songs which were attributed to Perez. Every day
gave birth to similar productions, in which the wit
of the natives was taxed to express their detestation.
The Inquisitors were intimidated, and did not dare
to act as they were recommended. The same Molina
de Medrano who, on the day of the riot, had been
disposed to bury himself under the ruins of the house
of the Holy Office, rather than yield to the populace,
and who was the most harsh and inexorable of all
the members of that implacable tribunal, allowed his
courage to ooze away and asked permission to leave
Aragon, because "his life was in constant peril."
His apprehensions were not groundless, because,
according to the description given by the Inquisitors
themselves of the spirit which animated the whole
population, it appears that the Clergy and even the
Nuns were so excited that they talked of nothing
else but resistance, and vowed that there was no
danger which they would not brave in support of the
liberties of the Kingdom. The people were unanimous in swearing that they would sooner lose their
lives than permit Perez to be taken away. Therefore the Inquisitors informed the Government that
there would be another riot, should they attempt to
exercise their authority, as the public mind was so
prejudiced that " it seemed to be bewitched."
In the mean time, investigations were going on in
Madrid in relation to the recent occurrences in Sara



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         189
goza, testimonies were taken down, written statements recorded, and a new Junta, or Council, created
to take cognizance of the affair of Antonio Perez.
The King consulted this Junta on what he had to
do, and, not satisfied with this step, for never was a
man more addicted to fortifying himself with advice,
took the opinion of thirteen learned men in Saragoza, who met in a body to deliberate on the subject
submitted to their consideration, and whose Jesuitical conclusions were well suited to the atmosphere
of the Court of Philip, if repugnant to morality and
to the logic of common sense. They declared that
the privilege of the Manifestacion could not be annulled, but that it could be suspended;  and having
discovered this curious way of solving the difficulty
by maintaining theoretically the franchises which
were so dear to the Aragonese, whilst destroying them
practically by justifying the King in acting as if
they did not exist, in consequence of their temporary suspension, these sage and  conscientious
advisers of royalty concluded that the Inquisitors
could claim Perez and transport him to their prison,
on condition of remanding again their prisoner to
the place of confinement from which he had been
taken, if they did not think proper to release him.
Ridiculous as this may appear, it was probably
thought to be a middle term, ingeniously contrived,
on which the contending parties might meet and be
reconciled, but it had the fate of all such contemptible devices, and failed entirely in obtaining its ob



190           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
ject.  Unfortunately, the singular interpretation
given by these learned men to the charter which
secured the franchises of Aragon, this manifestation
of weakness and subserviency on their part, greatly
encouraged Philip, who knew well how to availhimself of these favorable circumstances. From the
Escorial where he was ensconced, he, with that indefatigable pen which he was so fond of wielding,
wrote to the Viceroy of Aragon, to its Magistrates,
Magnates, and other distinguished personages, making a personal appeal to their fidelity, ordering them
to dismiss from Saragoza the turbulent mountaineers
who had been called to that city, and giving them
other directions for the re-establishment of the Royal
authority. Most of the Nobles gave their adhesion
to the King; the Justicia and other Magistrates
began to waver; the Count of Aranda and the Duke
of Villahermosa, who had been the most conspicuous
among those of their Order to side with the people,
hesitated, and showed signs which indicated that they
were disposed to go no farther. The Inquisitors,
whose zeal and courage were revived by the support
which they felt to be at hand, and by the symptoms
of irresolution which they observed in their opponents, ventured to issue, on the 17th of August, a
new mandate for the transfer of the prisoners to the
dungeons of the Holy Office.
As soon as the determination of the Inquisition
to retake possession of Perez and Mayorini was made
known, the people began to move like an angry sea




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          191
under the first blast of the tempest. There could already be discerned that long and heavy swell which
announces the strength of the perturbing power.
There were heard in the distance the deep-toned
mutterings of the coming storm. It was evident that
the people were preparing for another outbreak.
The most energetic and influential of the Nobles
were either openly or secretly at their head, and
those by whom they had been abandoned had never
possessed much of their confidence. Antonio Perez,
on the other hand, was not inactive in his prison,
and, despite his jailers, or perhaps with their connivance, found the means of scattering abroad spirited writings, which contributed to inflame the public
mind. At night, numerous bands of armed men,
in a state of great excitement, perambulated the
streets, and occasionally fired at the patrols, which
the magistrates of the city headed in person. In
these skirmishes several individuals were killed and
wounded, and the advantage remained with the
populace. The danger was so apparent that neither
the Viceroy nor any other authority would venture
to execute the mandate of the Inquisition, although
a certain number of troops had been collected for
that purpose. Nevertheless, Perez became apprehensive of falling into the hands of that Tribunal,
and resolved on a speedy flight. Already had he
sawed asunder the iron bars of the window of his
prison with a pair of scissors which he had converted
into files, when he was denounced by a Jesuit to




192           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
whom he had opened himself. In consequence of
this discovery he was removed to a safer room, and
precluded from having any intercourse with anybody.
At last the Inquisitors, with that tenacity of purpose which  characterized  their institution, after
having come to a satisfactory understanding with the
Jqsticia and his Lieutenants, resolved, cost what it
might, to obtain, a second time, the delivery of the
prisoners into their sacred hands. The 24th of September was chosen for it-a fatal day for Saragoza
-a day which is forever to be gloomily remembered
in the annals of Aragon, and which had deplorable
consequences for the whole of Spain. On that day
the officials of the Inquisition, accompanied by the
Viceroy and some of the high dignitaries of the city
and of the Kingdom, by a crowd of noblemen followed by some of their vassals, and by six hundred
arquebusiers, marched in great pomp and in military
array to the prison of the Manifestacion, to execute
the mandate of the Inquisition. But the popular
wrath, at such a spectacle, exploded like a mass of
ignited gunpowder. The Viceroy and other authorities had to take refuge in houses, which were attacked, set on fire, and from which they escaped
through the roofs. The officials of the Inquisition
were indebted for their safety to the same agility,
and the doors of the prison being battered down,
Antonio Perez and Mayorini were rescued by their
friends, and, taking to horse, fled rapidly out of the
city through the gate of Santa. Engracia. The See



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          193
retary of the Inquisition, who was an eye-witness,
and who relates all the details of this riot, says: " I
certify that the soldiers and the nobles made so little
resistance that it cannot be doubted that they did not
intend any, and even some of them went over to the
other side." At five of the afternoon the people, having overcome all obstacles, being in complete possession of the city, and tired of shouting "Long live our
liberties! Long live our privileges!" retired to rest
like a lion, who, exhausted by the fury into which
he had lashed himself, and no longer seeing anything
on which to vent it, utters a last growl, folds his
paws under his shaggy breast, and composes himself
to sleep, with the satisfaction of a monarch whose
sway remains undisputed.  The authorities, when
night came, being made aware that the many-headed
monster had abandoned the battle-field and withdrawn to its den, dispatched couriers in every direction to arrest the fugitive Perez, for whose capture
they offered a reward of two thousand ducats. But
their alarms at what every moment might bring
forth were intense. The Viceroy wrote to the King
to ask permission to remove with the Royal Audience to some other place, on account of the
little security which they could rely on in Saragoza.
The several districts in which the city was divided
had demanded, through their Representatives, that
its defence be intrusted to them, and that the troops
be sent out of its precincts.  Already were the
authorities preparing to accede to their wishes, and.
13




194           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
to make a distribution of the arms which were in the
arsenal, when there came an order from the King,
prescribing to take special care that the people
should not have access to them. He was obeyed.
The political Constitution of the Kingdom of Aragon, with its numerous franchises, privileges and
immunities, which imposed such restraints on the
Executive as almost to annul it in some cases, was
not compatible with the character of such a Sovereign as Philip, who was so greedy of power as to
regret to delegate the least particle of it, and who
thought it impious on the part of subjects to attempt
to throw the lightest ligament round the neck of
royal authority.  Therefore the liberties of Aragon
and all the ideas of Philip in relation to his divine
rights of sovereignty were as antagonistical as day
and night. It is even to be wondered at that they
had not, long before, come to a collision. But
Philip's attention and Philip's armies, since his
accession to the throne, had chiefly been engaged
abroad-in Africa, in America, in Turkey, in Italy,
in the Low Countries, in England, in France, and in
Portugal. His eyes, being mostly fixed on distant and
more important objects, had not been afforded the
leisure to dwell on this offensive one which lay nearer
to his person. Besides, it was not in accordance
with his habitual policy to attack openly and in
front institutions which had been for so many centuries deeply rooted in the hearts of the Aragonese.
He knew that their bravery was equal to their pro



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         195
verbial stubbornness, and he felt that it would be
dangerous to provoke wantonly a people so warlike
and so free, dwelling in a rugged country where war
could be prolonged indefinitely among mountain
fastnesses, and which was situated on the frontiers
of France. Foreign assistance might be too readily
obtained. He was also wanting in pretexts to show
his latent hostility to the Aragonese. They had
always exhibited a great deal of loyalty, had served
him faithfully in peace and war; and with a docility
to which they had not accustomed their Sovereigns,
they had, notwithstanding their independent spirit
and their economical habits, granted to Philip all the
ordinary and extraordinary subsidies which he had
required of them, besides allowing him, on several
occasions, with spontaneous generosity, very large
sums in the liberal shape of donations.
Philip had, therefore, contented himself with undermining secretly the edifice which he had more
than one reason not to assail with unconcealed
weapons. But if he spared the thunderbolt which,
in a serene sky, would have been observed of all,
and which, amidst the crash of shattered columns
and tottering walls, might have produced a conflagration more extensive than he was prepared for,
he noiselessly crept to their foundations and laid
under them the seeds of destruction. He had, since
the beginning of his reign, from time to time, when
the occasion favored his designs, warred in detail
against the liberties of Aragon. Some of them he




196           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
had indirectly, abridged by a sly extension of the
royal authority; others he had wounded, crippled,
or weakened by stealthy side-blows, as if with the
midnight dagger of an assassin.  There were in
Aragon franchises common to the whole Kingdom,
and franchises which appertained only to particular
localities. These latter he first operated against, in
order gradually to arrive at the former, which were
of far more importance. His plan was to accustom
the people by degrees to these infractions of their
rights, and to break one by one those shafts which,
if united in a bundle, might have resisted his efforts.
He knew that the successive destruction of the immunities of localities, between which there were frequently intense jealousies, and about which there
could be felt no general interest, was far more easy
to accomplish than the overthrow of any of the franchises which were common to the whole Kingdom.
He went to work accordingly in this matter with
diabolical skill, whenever he could divert his mind
from those machinations with which, far and wide,
he kept the world in a state of perturbation. He
would, on such occasions, turn his cold gray eyes
toward Aragon, and if he saw in any particular spot
any cause of discontent, he took care to make it
worse. Were a magnate and his vassals quarreling, he widened the breach, until he found the opportunity to step in, and it was always to the detriment of both parties. Was any community disposed
to turbulence, his agents fanned it into an actual out



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         197
break, which afforded the chance to strangle some
of its beloved immunities. Were a city and its constituted authorities on terms of disagreement, he so
manoeuvred that anarchy soon ensued, and he then
intervened to restore order at the cost of some of
their prerogatives. Thus he had been slowly and
cautiously breaking down the spirit of the people
and familiarizing them with strokes of royal authority, without their thinking that these encroachments
were of sufficient importance to call for a wellorganized and general resistance. In this way some
of their most valuable privileges had fallen into
desuetude, or been emasculated, and others had been
suspended, if not absolutely abolished; when it was
discovered by some of the most patriotic and enlightened minds of Aragon that it would be fortunate if
something occurred to wake up the zeal of the people for their antique liberties; and the Sovereign,
on the other hand, came to the conclusion that the
favorable time had arrived to strike a final blow.
These were the respective relations existing between Philip and Aragon, when the desired opportunity for a struggle was given by the affair of
Perez.




198           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
CHAPTER VI.
ON the 15th of October, thinking that the time for
action was ripe, and having sufficiently pondered on
the measures to be taken in connection with the events
which have been related, Philip wrote to the authorities of Saragoza that he had determined to send to
that city the army which had been assembled under
the command of Alonzo de Vargas, to carry on the war
existing between Spain and France. lHe also announced to them that the object which he had in view was,
" to re-establish the respect due to the Holy Office of
the Inquisition, and secure the free use and exercise
of theirfueros."  In another letter he assured them
with more explicit precision, that " he had no other
intention than that of protecting their fueros, and
that he would not permit them to be violated by
anybody."  Notwithstanding these royal declarations, the approach of the army filled the Aragonese
with consternation.  They suspected that Philip
meant the very reverse of what he professed in relation to their privileges and franchises; for the mere
sending of an army into Aragon without the consent of the Cortes was thought to be an infraction
of their Fueros. Therefore the inhabitants of Sara



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           199
goza resolved on resistance.  The manifestations
of the public spirit were such, that the Viceroy sent
two emissaries to Vargas, to request in his name,
and in that of the Kingdom and the city in particular, that the march of the troops be stopped until
further orders from the King; and, at the same time,
he dispatched two other emissaries to His Majesty,
to supplicate him to defer for awhile the entering
of the army into Aragon; if that could not be done,
he begged to receive timely notice of it, so that he
might retire for safety, with the members of his
Council, into the fortress which commanded the city.
He suggested, moreover, that, in his opinion, it
would be expedient to convene the Cortes in Calatayud, and to delay their proceedings by proroguing
them from time to time until some means be found
to settle satisfactorily the questions which had disturbed the tranquillity of the Kingdom. In these
conjunctures, its most learned jurisconsults, having
been consulted, decided unanimously that the entering of Philip's army into Aragon would be a breach
of privilege, and that, in such a case, it would be the
duty of the proper authorities to use all the resources of the Kingdom " to resist and expel those intruding strangers."  ( entes estrangeras.)
Philip, on his part, acted with his usual slowness
of deliberation. He did not hasten the march of his
army to anticipate the movements of his opponents,
but he sent the Marquis of Lombay to Aragon with
minute instructions as to the steps which he should




200           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
take to restore peace to the Kingdom. It was prescribed to him at full length how he was to deal with
the magnates, the universities and other corporations, in order to separate them from the cause of
the people. He was commissioned to repeat that
the sole object of the King was to re-establish the
authority of the Inquisition, and " to secure the uncontrolled exercise of the franchises of the Kingdom,"
although the Aragonese could not understand how
the antagonism of these two hostile elements could
be reconciled; for it seemed that the existence of the
one excluded the other as effectually as water extinguishes fire. In the mean time, Vargas, who was
slowly progressing with his army, gave also assurance to an Aragonese Committee, who had come to
remonstrate against his further advance, that he was
specially instructed by the King "to preserve the
Fueros."
Informed of the approach of the army, which was
chiefly composed of troops from  Castile, the inhabitants of Saragoza compelled the Justicia to
march a short distance from the city to meet the
coming foe. The Justicia was no longer the old man,
Don Juan de Lanuza, who had figured in the first
disturbances. He had died since, and had been succeeded in his office by his eldest son, who bore the
same name. This new dignitary, although young and
robust in body, had a timid and vacillating mind.
He had with him an undisciplined force of scarcely
two thousand men, with whom he certainly could




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          201
not hope to offer a successful resistance to the veteran
troops which were approaching.  Catalonia and the
Kingdom of Valencia had not responded to the appeal which had been made to them; the other cities
of Aragon, with the exception of barely half a score
of them, had remained indifferent, and even these
had sent but a scanty aid. The Count of Aranda
and the Duke of Villahermosa, who were suspected
of being traitors, took refuge in the Monastery of
Santa Engracia, which was attacked by the populace
with great fury, and it was with considerable risk
that these nobles escaped by scaling the walls of the
garden of the Monastery, at a spot which was not
sufficiently guarded by the assailants. They fled to
the neighboring town of Epila, whither also retired
in dismay the Justicia and several other chiefs and
magnates, after having reluctantly come out of Saragoza with the rabble, who had rather dragged
them onward than followed them. The insurgents,
who acted like a confused mob, and not like a body
of armed men organized for battle, on finding themselves deserted by those to whose personal rank and
official dignity they looked up as a protection and
encouragement in their hazardous enterprise, returned to Saragoza in much disorder. From Epila the
Justicia and his companions published an address to
the Kingdom, in which they justified their conduct
on the plea of necessity, as their forces were totally
inadequate to the object which they had in view,
and were even so mutinous as to threaten the lives




202           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
of their chiefs " at every step." On the other hand,
the Count of Morata, who was one of Philip's most
zealous adherents, wrote to him to boast of having
defeated the plans of the insurgents and to recommend the severest chastisement without any regard
to the Fueros.
It was certainly an ill-concerted affair, and a most
lame and abortive attempt at resistance. It was
evident that there was no general disposition on the
part of the people of Aragon to engage in a struggle
against the royal authority. There had been a
spasmodic convulsion in one of the limbs, but the
body had  remained  quiescent.  Even  Saragoza
opened its gates to Vargas, who entered without the
slightest opposition  on  the 12th of November.
Under such circumstances, the prudent commander
very properly abstained from  any act of rigor.
Moreover, he wrote to Philip that it seemed to him
opportune to grant a general pardon to all, with the
exception of a few persons among the most guilty,
and he invited the Justicia, the Deputies of Saragoza, the Duke of Villahermosa, the Count of Aranda,
and others, to return without apprehension, and with
assurances on his part that the Fueros would b.e
preserved intact. A few days afterward, Vargas,
in a communication to the King, advised again a
general pardon.  "It is much required," he said,
"that the pardon be as full as possible, and that
your Majesty, in granting it, should use words calculated to tranquillize them on the preservation of




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         203
their Fueros, about which they have run mad.  Let
there be only a few persons excepted from it and
brought to trial, and things will work well." He
added that it would be proper to appoint as Viceroy
a native of the Kingdom, and he assured His Majesty that this measure and others of the like nature
would bring the whole people back to their senses
and to their duty. Wise and humane as these suggestions were, they failed to be adopted.  They
neither suited the temper and usual policy of Philip,
nor his designs on that occasion.  There was no
feeling more repugnant to his cold and relentless
heart than that of clemency. Most of the leaders
of the insurrection had fled, some to Catalonia, others
to the mountains, and emissaries had been sent in pursuit. But the Justicia, with other magistrates and
magnates of the land, relying on the conciliatory language and professed indulgence of Vargas, had
presented themselves to him in testimony of their
unbroken allegiance.  The Marquis of Lombay,
who had come as the special representative of Philip,
renewed to them  the promise that their Fueros
would be respected; and the most rigorous measure which he proposed to the King was the temporary disfranchisement of the Kingdom and city. He
also recommended that the Justicia and other competent authorities be called upon to acknowledge
that the entering of the army into Aragon was no
violation of their privileges, and that their antecedent declarations to the contrary had been extorted




204           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
from them by the mutineers. This he thought would
be a sufficient reparation.  But the Inquisitors
were of a much more inexorable disposition. Molina
de Medrano, who had come to Madrid to claim the
reward due to his services, to his zeal, and to the
dangers he had run, gave his opinion to the Inquisitor-General on the course which he deemed advisable to pursue. It smelt of brimstone, it breathed
vengeance, it was hot with the fire of the stakes
which it proposed to kindle, and called for the shower of blood in which the imagination of this fanatic
Priest was already luxuriating.  Harsh, indeed,
were the measures advocated by him for the present
correction and future amelioration of the Aragonese.
In connection with this document, he presented to
the head of the Inquisition a minute list containing
the names of those whom he thought the most guilty.
That list embraced laymen and ecclesiastics from
the highest to the lowest, and even condescended
not to ignore most obscure and humble individuals
among the peasantry and among the dregs of the
populace of cities.
Tranquillity, however, had been restored in Saragoza, and it seemed as if all these disturbances were
destined to have everywhere a pacific termination.
The Marquis of Lombay, who was known to possess
the instructions of Philip, and whose deportment,
therefore, was supposed to be indicative of the intentions of the Sovereign, had alighted at the house
of his uncle, the Duke of Villahermosa, and become




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         205
his guest. There also Vargas and the other officers
of the army were duly entertained. It was augured
from these circumstances that the Duke and others
who had been connected with the recent popular
commotions had very little to apprehend. The Justicia had resumed his functions and opened his
Court. The people were quiet and submissive; everything looked fair and promising, and wore a smiling
aspect. All were rejoicing at the policy of conciliation and leniency which appeared to have been
adopted, when suddenly the serene horizon was
overcast, and the storm of royal resentment which,
unperceived, had been secretly gathering in the distance, swept over the devoted city. The theatrical
effect which had been produced in Brussels on the
9th of September, 1567, by the treacherous arrest
of Egmont and Horn, who had been decoyed by the
blandishments of the Duke of Alva, seemed to have
been fondly remembered by Philip, who determined
to have something like a repetition of the scene in
Saragoza, although with different actors. On the
19th of December, 1591, at noon, the Justicia, with
his lieutenants, was leaving the palace where they
had been assembled in the regular discharge of
their duties, and was proceeding to the neighboring
church of St. John to hear mass, when, in obedience
to secret orders forwarded to Vargas, he was arrested, to his utter amazement, in the name of the
King, by Captain Velasco, at the head of a company of Arquebusiers, and conducted to the head



206            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
quarters of Vargas, who committed him to the custody of Colonel Francisco de Bobadilla. On the very
same day, with no less deceitful management, the
Duke of Villahermosa and the Count of Aranda
were made prisoners, and transported, the one to
the castle of Burgos, and the other to the fortress
of the Mota de Medina. Terror hung like a funereal
pall over Saragoza, and Philip may well be supposed
to have rejoiced, a second time, at the grand stage
effect of his dramatic combinations.
On this occasion he acted with more promptitude
than was his wont, and this departure from his
habits was the more striking from the fact that there
was no necessity for it.  Poor Lanuza, notwithstanding his illustrious name and his exalted station, was not a dangerous man, and it was evident
that he had been but an unwilling tool in the hands
of the insurgents. As soon as the opportunity had
presented itself, he had abandoned them, carrying
away with him the national standard of St. George
and the banner emblazoned with the coat-of-arms
of Aragon, round which their disorderly band had
tumultuously rallied. If he had deserved any punishment at all, it would probably have been limited,
under any other Sovereign, to a severe reprimand,
or an incarceration of a few months. He was the
head of one of the greatest families of Aragon, and,
almost by hereditary right, filled the office of Justicia, which was the highest under the Crown, and
which for near two centuries had been in his family




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         207
as an heir-loom. But these circumstances were no
protection to him, and were, perhaps, the very
cause of the harsh doom to which he was subjected.
On the night following the day of his arrest, he was
notified to prepare to die on the next morning.
"What!" exclaimed the unfortunate man, "who
condemns me?"  "The King himself," was the answer.  "But," replied the prisoner, "I cannot be
tried and judged by any other authority than the
King and Cortes assembled together for that purpose."  All his remonstrances were useless.  No
accusation was brought against him; he was not
even interrogated; and there was not the shadow
of a trial. The King had merely written to Vargas: "You will arrest Don Juan de Lanuza, and
you will have his head immediately cut off." This
laconic sentence was sufficient to put to death the
Supreme Magistrate of Aragon, among whose attributes was that of checking the royal power and
compelling it to act in conformity with the Constitution and laws of the Kingdom. In preceding ages,
the Aragonese would have risen to one man, nobles
and peasants, to resist such an attempt against the
sacred person of the Justicia. But the times had
changed; the people had gradually been tamed to
servitude, and not a hand was raised to strike for the
expiring liberties of Aragon. No effort was made
to save Lanuza thus summarily disposed of, as if he
had been the slave of some Turkish Bashaw, and
not the free subject of a Christian Prince. He was




208           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
given the Jesuit Ibafez for his confessor, and a certain number of priests were designated to accompany him to the scaffold, which was erected during
the night in the market-place; for Philip always
pretended to take great interest in the salvation of
the souls of his victims. At one in the morning,
the whole army being under arms and batteries of
cannon enfilading the principal streets, Don Juan de
Lanuza, chained like a common malefactor, and
attired in the same black costume which he habitually wore on account of the recent death of his
father, was taken in his own coach to the place of
execution, where trumpets sounded and proclamation was made that the King had ordered his head
to be struck off, his houses and castles to be razed
to the ground, and all his earthly possessions to be
confiscated, as a punishment for his having, " with
banners displayed," opposed the royal army. The
axe of the executioner was soon crimsoned with the
best blood of Aragon. Unfortunately, it was not
one man only who had perished under that blow,
but all the liberties of the Kingdom; and it was
what Philip had meant by that symbolical death.
"The record of that sad day," says an Aragonese
historian, "should be chiseled on a black stone, as
a testimonial of mourning for what we then lost forever."
The royal vengeance was not satisfied with the
death of the Justicia, which was merely the signal
for throwing aside the mask of dissimulation and in



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          209
augurating a reign of terror and cruelty. The King
vented his rage even on inanimate objects. The
palace of Lanuza, from which his aged and disconsolate mother was expelled, and which ought to have
been defended by the glory of the historical deeds
of its former possessors, was destroyed to its foundations. All the houses of the nobles who had participated in the late disturbances had. the same fate.
It is impossible to imagine anything more senseless
than this wanton destruction of property, which, if
taken away from traitors, granting them to be such,
would in other hands have still constituted a portion
of the public wealth. But the wrath of Philip seems
to have been tinctured with a.deree of insanity.
The best streets of Saragoza were choked with heaps
of ruins, as if an Attila had passed through with his
Barbarian hordes.  The destruction of so many
noble edifices announced but too clearly what Philip
would have done to their proprietors, if he had got
hold of them. The blow of the executioner's axe
would have sounded still more gratefully in his ear
than that of the mason's pick engaged in the work
of demolition. Some of his intended victims, not
trusting to his hypocritical mansuetude, had fled in
time, but too many, however, had remained in his
power. The Duke of Villahermosa and the Count
of Aranda had died in their prison before sentence
had been pronounced against them. Their destiny
had been a singular one. Distrusted by the people,
who had threatened their lives and compelled them
14




210           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
to fly for safety on account of their supposed attachment to the King's interests, they were imprisoned
and perhaps put to death by him on account of their
fancied zeal in the cause of the insurgents. Don
Diego de Heredia, Baron of Barboles, and Don Juan
De Luna, Lord of Purroy, had their heads struck
off, after having been subjected to torments which
it would be sickening to relate. Others soon followed, and the planks of the scaffold had no time to
dry. They were kept reeking with plebeian and
noble blood-the blood of the patrician, the commoner and artisan-the blood of the aged and the
young, without discrimination and mercy.  Some
were beheaded, others strangled, many quartered
and disemboweled; and all these sacrifices to Moloch
were marked with a variety in the mode of execution which showed a striking fertility of imagination
in the contriver. Each dish offered at this banquet
of death was cooked up in a different style to stimulate, as it were, the appetite of the grisly alonrch.
IHeads were stuck up plentifully in the most conspicuous places of public resort, with what was thought
to be appropriate inscriptions.  The baptism  of
blood and tears was not confined to Saragoza, but
extended to Teruel, a considerable town, and to
various other points. Something new and entirely
original closed this scenic representation of which
Philip was the author, and for which he certainly
deserved the plaudits of the inmates of Pandemonium. Before the curtain fell, the hangman was




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          211
hung by his own aid. It was, we presume, intended
as one of those laughable farces which are generally
given to the public after the performance of tragedies.
The mood of the populace must have been suddenly
moved by it from grief to joy, and it is not to be
doubted that they enthusiastically clapped their
hands at the perpetration of this grim joke.
At last Philip, having glutted his ire, imitated his
father, who had granted an amnesty after having
destroyed the chief participators in the insurrection
of Castile. Charles had been most sanguinary, and
his son willingly trod in his footsteps on an occasion
of a similar nature. The pardon granted by Philip
was after the fashion of the one vouchsafed by Charles
more than half a century before.  It purported
to be general, but there were so many exceptions
that the number of the excepted exceeded that of
the pardoned. What made this document still more
striking, was the complacency with which the King
complimented himself on his paternal indulgence and
wonderful benignity of heart.  In Castile, after
having crushed those among the inhabitants of that
Kingdom who had attempted to defend their timehonored liberties, Charles had, on the 28th of October, 1522, granted a general amnesty, which pardoned only those who had no need of his mercy,
because they could not be reached by the law, even
in its most far-fetched interpretation and application.
In Aragon, on the 24th of September, 1591, Philip
repeated the same fraudulent act of clemency.




212           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
There was the same family resemblance in these two
acts-a uniformity of bad faith, hypocrisy and cruelty, which showed that both proceeded from kindred
sources.
There is hardly on record an instance of more
exquisite mockery than this general pardon. It was
not enough that the number of the excepted exceeded
that of the pardoned; but the Inquisition, encouraged
by the Royal protection, having gone to work with
great zeal and on its own account, independently of
the action of the civil authorities, the wretches who
had escaped from Charybdis fell into Scylla. The
Holy Office swept into its dungeons about one
hundred and thirty persons who had eluded the
grasp of the Courts of secular jurisdiction. As they
were tried before an Ecclesiastical Tribunal, the
natural inference would be that it was for offences
against religion or the Church. But such was not
the fact, except in a few cases. Most of the prisoners
were only found guilty of having assisted the flight
of Antonio Perez, or of having done or said something or other to resist the Royal army. One could
hardly have supposed that such offences were cognizable by the Inquisition, but it was held by that
Tribunal that Antonio Perez having fled from its
prison, into which he had been cast on a charge of
heresy, all those who had given him aid and comfort
under any pretence whatever, and who had attempted, directly or indirectly, to oppose the army
which had been sent to support the Holy Office,




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          213
were necessarily heretics, wherefore it pronounced
sentence upon the accused, and for its execution
handed them  over to the civil authority.  Some
were put to death, some  banished; on  others
lighter penalties were inflicted. As to Perez, he was
decreed to be guilty of heresy in the last degree;
and in consequence of his having taken refuge in
France, his effigy, with a high conical hat on its
head, and dressed in a long yellow robe on which
were represented the flames of hell, was burned in
an auto defe which took place on the 20th of October, 1592, and lasted from eight o'clock in the morning until nine at night. From its duration, it is easy
to imagine the number of its victims. When the
last had been reduced to ashes by those worse than
cannibal monsters, the effigy of Perez, which had
been reserved to close this demoniacal exhibition,
was pitched into the blazing pile.  His sons, his
daughters, and all their male descendants, were declared incapable forever of possessing any ecclesiastical or secular dignities, benefices, or offices
whatever, and were prohibited from having on their
persons any ornament of gold or silver, or pearls,
precious stones, or corals-from using silk, camlet
and fine cloths as articles of dress-from riding on
horseback-and from  doing many other things
which were usually interdicted to persons who
had incurred the excommunication of the Holy
Office.
Thus, hand in hand, went to work in harmonious




214           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
accord the Grand Inquisitor and the King; the
jackal hunted for the lion. Philip had attained his
object: he had struck such terror into the Aragonese,
that it was evident he could henceforth do anything
he pleased without expecting the slightest resistance.
They had been taught that their boasted privileges,
franchises and immunities had become but the fantasies of an idle dream, and that, in reality, they
were at the mercy of an inflexible despot. Their
conscience must have told them, besides, that they
were suffering the consequences of that retributive
justice which is sometimes awarded to nations as
well as to individuals. About seventy years before,
when they had been called upon by the Castilians,
their neighbors, to help them in maintaining their
liberties against Charles the Fifth, they had remained indifferent and egotistically inactive.  Those
liberties were extinguished on the battle-field of
Villalar. Now the turn of Aragon had come; and
when she also cried for assistance, an army of those
enslaved Castilians, who remembered perhaps but
too keenly how their ancestors had been abandoned
to their fate on a similar occasion, drowned in blood
her long-enjoyed and hereditary liberties. It must
also be admitted that the protection which the Aragonese granted to Perez was injudicious. He was
a very wicked man, and it is not in support of one
so little worthy of the sympathies of a high-minded
and generous people, that they ought to have gone
into a contest about their Fueros. That individual




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         215
was accused of having committed crimes in Castile,
and had fled to Aragon as to a sanctuary. We cannot but think that he ought to have been surrendered.
It looks like an unwarrantable pretension on the part
of the Aragonese to have insisted on his being tried
in Aragon, because he was a native of that Kingdom, for acts which he had done in Castile. If this
was one of their privileges, it would have been
wise to have relinquished it, because improper, and
to have saved the rest by this prudent and just
concession. It would at least have left Philip without a pretext for aggression.
Notwithstanding his easy triumph, Philip thought
it expedient to give an aspect of legality to the new
relations which brute force had established between
the Crown and the Kingdom of Aragon. With that
view, he convened the Cortes at Tarazona, to revise
and reform the Aragonese Fueros. It was customary for the King in person to open their session;
but alleging that it would be inconvenient for him
to meet them at that time, he had himself represented by the Archbishop of Saragoza, who read the
royal speech. Shortly after, the Archbishop having
died, the King appointed as his representatives the
Magistrate Don Juan Campi and Doctor Don Juan
Bautista de Lanuza, who were then performing ad
interim the functions of Justicia of Aragon. He
associated with them a learned jurisconsult, named
Geronimo Perez de Nueros. There appears to have
been a fatality attached to those who, at that session




216           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
of the Cortes, were personating the King; for Camnpi
and Nueros also died shortly after the Archbishop,
leaving their colleague Lanuza to act by himself.
Probably after having ascertained that the temper
of the Cortes was sufficiently pliant to suit his purposes and to invite his presence, at last came the
King with his son, Don Philip, the Hereditary
Prince, who was sworn before that assembly as his
successor.  The Cortes seem  to  have crouched
servilely under the heavy iron rod which Philip
had extended over the Kingdom, for instead of resenting the tyrannical and bloody course which he
had lately pursued, they voted a larger sum  of
money as subsidy than had ever been granted to
that Monarch by any of their predecessors. Fully
aware that they shared in the general consternation,
convinced that they were broken down in spirit and
ready for the yoke which he had prepared for their
necks, Philip availed himself of these favorable circumstances to obtain the modification or repeal of all
the Fueros which he considered incompatible with
the absolute power of the Crown. To pass certain
laws and to tax the people, a unanimity of votes had
been indispensable in the Cortes of Aragon. It was
reduced to a bare majority, as in Castile. The nomination to some important offices in the magistracy
was conceded to the King.  Even the appointment
of the Justicia was left to him, and he could remove
at will that exalted functionary, who therefore ceased
to be independent.  It had been the main column




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         217
which had supported the whole edifice of the liberties of Aragon;  for that magistrate had been for
ages the embodiment of the power and majesty of
the people and a counterpoise to the royal authority, in the same way in which the Tribunes of Rome
had checked the Consuls and Senate of that Commonwealth.  It was an  immemorial institution,
which was venerated and cherished by the Aragonese as the guarantee of their franchises. It was
now reduced to a mere shadow. The name was retained, but the substance was gone. The Justicia
had become a mere royal functionary instead of
being the representative of the people. He had not
even the privilege of appointing his own lieutenants.
Philip took that into his hands, still with the
acquiescence of the Cortes. They no longer had
anything to refuse. Clearly the wild unicorn had
been tamed, and bore the saddle gently. Ready to
vault into it at will, despotism, booted and spurred,
stood by with looks of self-complacency and with
whip in hand.
Pleased with the results of the castigation which
he had inflicted, Philip thought that the moment
had come for showing some degree of clemency.
He therefore relieved the city of Saragoza from the
presence of the army which he had quartered on its
inhabitants, but he left in its citadel a garrison sufficiently strong to maintain his authority, should
there happen to be again any disposition to oppose
it. Such was the end of the famous trial of Perez,




218           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
which had lasted for so many years, and which made
so much noise at the time. He had succeeded at
last in flying from the Kingdom where he had so
long wielded so much power, to pass the remainder
of his life in exile; and Aragon, his native land, had
to submit to radical changes in its constitutional
and fundamental laws.  Perez, however, was less
the cause of it, than the occasion. Whilst Aragon
had remained a distinct Kingdom, the Barons and
the Commons had been able to bridle successfully
the royal authority, although the frequent struggles
between the sovereigns and their subjects had been
attended with much bloodshed, and with alternate
success on either side. But the people, on the whole,
had stood their ground and retained their liberties,
only allowing to their kings a limited power. However, when Ferdinand, the future conqueror of Granada, married Isabella of Castile, when the Iberian
Peninsula, with the exception of Portugal, after the
subjugation of the Moors, was united under one
sceptre resplendent with glory, in the hands of the
great Emperor Charles V., when by  successive
events the Sovereign of Spain became so powerful
as to threaten the independence of Europe, the continuation of the existence of the franchises of the
Kingdom of Aragon must have appeared to many
more than problematical. Sagacious minds must
have foreseen that their destruction was inevitable;
that it was a mere question of time, of opportunity
and expediency. The nobles had been seduced by




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          219
the splendors of a Court which had been refined
into the most polished and brilliant in the world.
The immense patronage of the Crown had attractions which could not be resisted. There were, not
only in Spain, but in the four quarters of the globe,
a multitude of vicerovalties and other magnificent
offices to be distributed with a profuse hand. Thus
the Barons had been gradually tempted to exchange
the rude independence and petty royalty which they
enjoyed in their castellated domains among their
native mountains, for the distinctions and honors,
the titles and wealth which disguised from the world,
and perhaps from their own eyes, the state of gorgeous
servitude into which they had passed. Besides, in
the march of ages, and in the changes which it
brings, the days had gone by, when the poor but
proud  and warlike  population of Aragon, who
thought themselves compensated by the blessings of
freedom for the barrenness of their soil and the harshness of their climate, and who had long enjoyed
republican institutions under the ostensible form of
monarchy, could say to their Sovereign, on his
taking his coronation oath: " We, who, individually,
are as good as you are, and who, collectively, are
more powerful, make you King, on condition that
you shall observe our laws and respect our liberties.
If not, no." This was very well when that Sovereign, in his circumscribed territory, was but little
above the great magnates of his realm, and when he
admitted himself that he was but the "comrade of




220           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
his vassals." But such language had ceased to be
true, and could therefore no longer be addressed
with effect to kings in whose dominions the sun
never set, and whose power had grown to be an
object of terror to nations in comparison to which
the Aragonese sank into insignificance.  Hence,
dazzled by the achievements of the glorious Emperor Charles V., remembering how easily the Castilians had been crushed by him when attempting to
resist his encroachments on their liberties, raised in
the belief that the power which he had bequeathed
to his stern son was irresistible, the new generation
of Aragonese, when called upon to rise in arms like
one man, or lose those franchises which had become
hoary with age like the weather-beaten towers of
their old castles, proved unequal to the noble and
arduous task. The hope of success did not dawn
upon their hearts, and therefore their efforts were
but feeble, and almost confined to the city of Saragoza and to its populace, instigated by a few noblemen, friends of Perez, whose chief object probably
was rather to liberate him by the outbreak of a sudden riot, than to engage in a serious and protracted
struggle for the Fueros of Aragon against the overwhelming forces which Philip had at his command.
In this way may be reasonably explained the want of
energy and unanimity which has been observed, and
the easy surrender by the Aragonese of all those
rights and immunities which had been so dear to
them. The sap of the tree had ceased to be healthy;




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          221
the canker-worm was under its bark, making its
way to the heart; its roots had become loose; so
that, at the first blow of Philip's axe, the pride of the
forest fell to the ground without the honor of a
sturdy resistance.
As to Perez, whom we have left flying out of Saragoza, he reached the Pyrenees, where he remained
concealed in a mountain cave three days, with no
other aliment than some bread and wine. At night
he went out in search of water. Being informed
that he was surrounded by his pursuers, and that
all the passes to France were guarded, he had the
hardihood to return to Saragoza, where he thought
he would be in greater safety. In that city he
remained hidden in the house of Don Martin de
Lanuza, a kinsman of the Justicia, who was soon to
perish on the scaffold, until the approach of Vargas with his troops; when, two days before they
entered the city, he again escaped, after having
eluded the vigilance of the Inquisition. At last he
succeeded in crossing the Pyrenees, and arrived at
Pau, in the principality of Bearne, on the 21st of
November, 1591. There he presented himself to
the sister of Henry IV., Catherine of Bourbon, to
whom he had previously written to secure her protection. The agents of Philip followed him  and
invited him to return to Spain, on guaranteeing a
speedy adjustment of his difficulties with the King.
But Perez, who was informed of the atrocities perpetrated against his partisans in Saragoza, was proof




222           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
against deception. Being frustrated in their design
to inveigle Perez, those agents attempted his life
several times and in several ways, but without
success. In February, 1592, he and some of his
friends, having obtained from the Princess Catherine
the assistance of some companies of men-at-arms,
penetrated into Aragon in the hope of producing an
insurrection, and pushed as far as the town of Biescas; but, being attacked by the inhabitants of Huesca
and Jaca, and by Vargas with a portion of his army,
he was routed with great slaughter and compelled
again to take refuge in France, where he offered his
services to Henry IV., who accepted them. Henry
probably thought that Perez, with his thorough
knowledge of the character, plans and secrets of
Philip, might be a useful instrument, and, in the
Spring of 1593, admitted him into his presence at
Tours, where the King and the exiled minister had
long and frequent conferences, from which it resulted that Perez was sent to Queen Elizabeth with
letters from  Henry. Whilst in England, Perez
gained the good-will of the Earl of Essex, through
whose patronage he obtained a pension of one hundred and thirty pounds. During his residence in
that country he published a political pamphlet under
the name of Raphael Peregrino, in which he made
certain revelations concerning Philip, and increased
the irritation of that Monarch. Shortly after, two
Irishmen, who had been sent by the Count of Fuentes,
Governor of the Low Countries, to kill Perez, were




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         223
arrested and executed.  In 1595, war being formally declared between Philip and Henry, Antonio
Perez was recalled from  England by the latter
Prince, who had availed himself of the Spaniard's
influence with the Earl of Essex to prevail upon
Queen Elizabeth, of whom that nobleman was the
favorite, to assist France in carrying on hostilities
against Spain.  Whilst in Paris, Perez was very
near being assassinated by two emissaries from
Spain, who had come for that special purpose. One
of them was seized, put to the torture and executed.
These repeated attempts caused  great alarm  to
Perez, who, although he had been allowed a pension
of four thousand ducats and seemed to enjoy all the
confidence of Henry, was so restless and so apprehensive of the consequences of Philip's resentment, that
he would have sought shelter somewhere else, if
Henry had not persuaded him that he could be nowhere more safe than at his side.
In the Spring of 1596, Antonio Perez was sent a
second time to England to assist in the negotiation
of an offensive and defensive alliance between that
country and France against Spain. But, this time,
he found that a change had come over the disposition of his former friend, the Earl of Essex. This
nobleman avoided seeing him, and Perez had to
return, wounded in his pride by the conduct of Essex, and with the mortification of not having contributed to the treaty which was made between
France and England. But he still continued to be




224           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
in high favor with the King, to whom he must have
been conscious that he had rendered greater services
than are on record, since he prayed for rewards, which
were promised him, and which, from their magnitude, show the extent of the appreciation in which
he was held by the King: 1st. A Cardinal's hat for
himself, if it turned out to be true, as reported, that
his wife had died, and if not, for his son Gonzalo.
2d. A pension of twelve thousand crowns, secured
on ecclesiastical benefices, and transmissible to his
sons. 3d. The continuation of the pension of four
thousand ducats which he already enjoyed. 4th. A
liberal allowance of money to allow him to establish
himself in the possession of the office of Royal Counselor, recently granted to him by the King. 5th. A
guard for the security of his person.  6th. In case
of a treaty of peace between France and Spain, the
liberation of his family and the restoration of his
confiscated property to be expressly stipulated in
one of its articles. But, in 1598, when the treaty
of Ver-vins restored peace between the two countries, the promise made to Perez was forgotten, or
could not be carried into execution. No stipulation
was made in his favor; and if Philip had not died
shortly after, the fugitive minister would probably
have fallen a victim, in the end, to the implacable
hatred of that Prince.
It is reported that Philip, a few days before his
death, drew from under his pillow and handed to
one of his ministers in waiting a paper which, among




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          225
other things, contained the following expression of
his desires: "Provided that the wife of Antonio
Perez shall retire into a monastery, whatever property she has a right to may be restored to her, and
her children permitted to inherit it." Be it in consequence of this recommendation, or of the friendship which had always existed between Perez and
the family of the Duke of Lerma, the omnipotent
favorite and minister of the new King, Philip III.,
this Prince, when he went to Valencia to celebrate
his nuptials, in 1599, ordered the wife of Perez out
of the prison in which she was detained. She immediately came to Madrid, and obtained from the
Count of Miranda, who had succeeded, as President
of the Council of Castile, Don Rodrigo Vasquez de
Arce, the old enemy of Perez, that her seven sons be
set free from their incarceration. It had lasted nine
years! When, after his marriage, Philip III. went to
Saragoza, he would not enter the city before the
heads of the wretches who had been put to death,
in 1591, were removed from the conspicuous places
which they had so long occupied. It is a sad illustration of the spirit of that age that these ghastly
objects should have been exposed for so many years
to the public gaze in one of the large cities of Christendom. Philip intended them, probably, as long
as they did not crumble to dust, to serve as a memento and warning to all whom it might concern.
His son and successor, in conformity with the advice
of the same Duke of Lerma, granted also, on that
15




226            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
occasion, a general pardon to all the Aragonese
exiles, with the exception of Perez, who had hoped
for more clemency from  his new Sovereign, and
who desired ardently to return to Spain, particularly since he had been made aware that he had
fallen into discredit at the French Court, and found
it to be a laborious task to obtain the payment of
his pension. On the death of Philip II., in whose
side he was a thorn, he had necessarily ceased to
be of importance to Henry, and he was discarded
accordingly.
At last, in the hope of ingratiating himself with
Philip III., the exile left Paris, renounced his pension of four thousand ducats, and went to London to
expedite the peace negotiations which, in 1604, were
pending between Spain and England.  But the
French Secretary of State, taking in ill part this
conduct of Perez, influenced the English Court
against him, so that this unfortunate and restless
man, finding that he was not welcome there, and also
that his offered assistance was not favorably received
by the Spanish negotiators, had the mortification to
be compelled to return to France, and to make
again an appeal to the generosity of Henry IV.,
whose pension he had had the imprudence, in an evil
hour, to renounce. But he supplicated in vain, and
he became so reduced in his circumstances that he
had to humble himself so low as to apply to the
French Ministry for a mere pittance to save himself
from perishing from want. His extreme destitution




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           227
increased his desire to return to his native country,
and he importuned two Spanish ambassadors who
succeeded each other in Paris to use their influence
in his favor and procure for him  the permission to
close his days in Spain.  But he learned the dire
lesson that, when a man has grown old and poor,
when he is withering in exile in a foreign land, and
when nothing is to be hoped or feared from  him,
few, if any, are the ears that will listen to his prayers; and, in 1608, the once powerful minister of
Philip II., who had enjoyed so long a share of that
absolute and immense power which had made itself
felt in the four continents of the world, now infirm,
neglected, forgotten, sad in heart and broken in
spirit, was dragging a miserable existence in one of
the suburbs of Paris-a fit retribution for his vices
and crimes, and a striking instance of the vicissitudes of life!
In this state of isolation and wretchedness, Antonio Perez passed the last years of his long and
eventful life. His sole consolation was to have
obtained of the Pope absolution from the ecclesiastical censures which had been decreed against him,
and permission to have an oratory in his own house,
because he was too feeble to walk to church.  In
1611, he applied to the Supreme Court of the Inquisition for leave to present himself before the Tribunal
of the Holy Office sitting in Saragoza, or before any
other which might be designated, to establish his
innocence of the charges of heresy of which he had




228           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
been found guilty in his absence. But his petition
was received with no favor. A few months afterward he became very ill, and was attended by some
Aragonese exiles who were united together by the
bond of common misfortune.  As the dying man
could no longer write, he dictated to Gil de la Mesa,
a faithful friend, who had never left his side since
his career of adversity had begun, the following
declaration: "In the situation in which I am, and
conscious that I am soon to render my accounts to
God, I aver and swear that I have always lived
and that I die like a true Catholic Christian, and I
call upon God to be my witness." If Perez believed
what he thus solemnly asseverated, it was another
melancholy instance of the aberrations to which the
human mind is liable. If not, it was a piece of profane hypocrisy which can hardly be accounted for,
because it could be of no service to him in the world
which he was leaving. It might, however, be supposed that he imagined it might benefit his wife and
children, about whose welfare he had always exhibited much solicitude. We see the proof of that solicitude in the following declaration which he also dictated: " I say that, if I die in the Kingdom of France
and under its protection, it is because I could not
do otherwise, and because I have been driven to it
by the violence of my persecutors.  I assure the
world that this is the truth, and I supplicate my King
and natural Liege Lord that, inhis great clemency and
magnanimity, he be pleased to remember the servi



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          229
ces rendered by my father to the father and grandfather of His Majesty, hoping that they may incline
him to be merciful and gracious to my wife and to
my sons, who are orphans and in destitution, and
that those afflicted and miserable objects of my affection will not lose, on account of their father's residence and death in a foreign land, the favors which
they deserve as faithful and loyal vassals, which I
recommend them to be, to the end of their career."
A few hours after he had made these declarations,
he expired on the 3d of November, 1611, at the age
of seventy-two. His widow and sons immediately
presented a petition to the Holy Office, to obtain
permission to vindicate the memory of the husband
and of the father. It was granted, and, in 1615, the
Tribunal of the Inquisition sitting at Saragoza pronounced a sentence which rehabilitated " the good
name and memory of Antonio Perez," and declared
his sons and other descendants to be apt to fulfill
all offices of honor and profit. As to the papers
concerning this famous trial of Antonio Perez, which
had remained in the hands of Judge Vasquez de Arce,
they were burned, in consequence of an order left by
Philip to that effect. It had lasted thirty-one years,
during which had happened all the events which we
have related.
Perez had died in the arms of Gil de la Mesa, a
kinsman and a friend, whose disinterested and unwavering attachment to the fallen minister and
wandering beggar, who was pursued by the sleep



230           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
less wrath of such a man as Philip, deserves to be
recorded forever in justice to his memory and for
the honor of the human race. The meeting of such
a character as De la Mesa is as refreshing to the
heart of the historian, in his dreary journey through
an interminable avenue of selfish passions and interests, as is a bubbling fountain to the parched lips
of the traveller in the deserts of Arabia. From the
night of the 28th of July, 1579, when Perez had
been arrested, to his death in 1611, a period of
thirty-one years of adversity, Gil de la Mesa had
forgotten himself to think only of the friend he loved
with such intense fidelity as to challenge belief. The
icy atmosphere which always environs misfortune
had no chilling effect on him. There was too much
sunshine in his noble soul; and the colder blew the
wind round his persecuted and forlorn friend the
more tightly he hugged him to his own warm bosom.
It is beautiful to see such a striking example of selfabnegation.  With the fearless energy of a man and
the tendernesss of a woman, he watched incessantly
over the waning fortune of Perez, through all the
various phases of its downward course. He had
constituted himself the guardian angel of the destitute, and, reversing the order of things to which
we are accustomed, he had made himself the satellite and worshiper of the orb of day, not when it
ascends with gorgeous splendor to its meridian,
but when faint and weak, and with its diadem of
light struck off its brow, it sinks, on the brink of the




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          231
western horizon, into an ocean of angry and tempestuous clouds. As long as there had been a chance
of saving Perez by court intrigues, by solicitations,
and prayers addressed to the King, and by influences
brought to bear upon his enemies, his judges, his
accusers, and the witnesses to be heard on his trial,
Gil de la Mesa, by day and by night, had worked
with a skill which had only been equaled by his
indefatigable zeal. After Perez had been put to the
torture and his ruin appeared to be irrevocably determined upon, it was Gil de la Mesa who had contrived his flight from his prison and had carried him
to Aragon. There again he was the shield which
interposed between Philip and Perez. There he
plotted, cajoled, bribed, and became the spirit which
infused itself into the Aragonese, rousing them to
armed resistance to the King. It was he who led
the rioters who delivered Perez; it was he who
accompanied the fugitive in all his wanderings in
the Pyrenees, and at last conducted him safely to
France. With Perez he re-entered Spain sword in
hand; with him he fought at Biescas; and when
defeated, again fled with him through a thousand
perils. In France, in England, wherever Perez went,
there was Gil de la Mesa, watching over a life so
precious to him, warding off the assassin's blow, or
detecting the more subtle attempt of the hired poisoner. In sickness, in destitution, in exile, in perils
by land and by water, in those depths of humiliation
which are only known to the mighty when fallen




232           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
from their high estate, whenever the soul of Perez
was ready to droop in despair, there was Gil de la
Mesa whispering consolations and ministering assistance. His was the only fanaticism  permitted to
man and which will find favor with God-the fanaticism of friendship. Poverty, sorrows of all sorts,
dangers of all descriptions, seemed to have attractions for Gil de la Mesa, if they only gave him the
opportunity to prove his devotion to his friend.
Truly, Perez, with all his load of guilt on his shoulders, must have been gifted with endowments of a
very winning  nature, and must have possessed
something wonderfully lovable to have inspired the
egotistical heart of man with such a passionate
attachment as was displayed by Gil de la Mesa during more than thirty long years. It seems to have
grown stronger with age, and finally it stood at the
grave of Perez, unchanged, unspotted, as vigorous
as ever, and dropping tears so pure that a seraph's
wing might have carried them to Heaven. In the
history of our race, those men who have made themselves famous for their genius are innumerable; but
how few are they who have made a disinterested
sacrifice of themselves to their country, and much
less to one of their fellow - beings! Hence the
amazement which such a friendship as Gil de la
Mesa's must excite in the human breast, and surely
a sort of tender and reverential admiration is due
to him who carried the noblest sentiment of the
heart to its very highest degree of sublimity.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          233
The end of Philip's reign was marked by another
criminal trial, which is one of the historical curiosities of the epoch, and which has since been a fruitful
theme for writers of novels and dramas. The last
King of Portugal, Don Sebastian, with the inexperience of youth, the romantic extravagance of chivalry, and the fiery zeal of religious fanaticism, had,
against the unanimous remonstrances of his wisest
counsellors and of his uncle, Philip II. of Spain, undertaken a Quixotic expedition against the infidels
of the Kingdom of Mlorocco-an expedition which
terminated in his death on the battle-field of Alcazarquivir, and in the extermination of the flower of
the nobility of Portugal. The body of the King had
never been found, and the Portuguese, having been
subjugated by Philip, who had claimed the vacant
throne on the ground of his possessing the strongest
hereditary right to it, entertained the fond hope
that Don Sebastian was still alive and would one
day make his appearance to resume his sceptre.
Years had elapsed, and the report was still current
among the ignorant multitude that their beloved
and heroic Sovereign, after doing penance in some
cave or monastery for his sins and for the blood
imprudently shed in his ill-starred enterprise in
Africa, might be expected to return at any time.
Such popular delusions have not been of unfrequent
occurrence in other nations and at different epochs,
and have given rise to serious disturbances, and
even civil wars. It is not astonishing, therefore,




234           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
that several impostors should have presented themselves to make the best of a persuasion so deeply
rooted in the hearts of the Portuguese people. The
most remarkable of them all, and the only one who
gave some uneasiness to Philip, was an individual
called Gabriel de Espinosa, commonly known in history and in fanciful compositions under the name of
the pastry-cook of Madrigal, which is a small town
of Old Castile. The education and talents of this
man were not, it is said, above his condition,
although there was something noble in his air, and
his manners were not destitute of a certain elegance.
He undoubtedly must have been very bold, and
must have possessed a considerable degree of natural shrewdness, to have adapted himself so well to
the part which he assumed, and which, owing to a
concourse of circumstances, instead of remaining an
obscure village farce, rose to the importance of an
historical event of sufficient magnitude to be recorded.
The author of this imposture was a Portuguese
and Austin friar, named Miguel de Los Santos, who
had attained high preferments in the Order to
which he belonged. He was a man of much ambition, of restless habits, but of no real capacity.
Having been one of the most violent partisans of
the Prior of Crato, the royal bastard who had been
the competitor for the crown of Portugal against
Philip, he had been transported from that Kingdom
to Castile, where he had been appointed Vicar to the




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         235
Austin nuns of Madrigal.  This turbulent friar,
having observed that there was in Espinosa a striking likeness to Don Sebastian, and that their age
would have corresponded if that Prince had been
alive, persuaded the pastry-cook to personate the
King, assuring him that it was easy to pass himself
for that personage upon the credulous Portuguese,
and that their enthusiastic attachment would open
to him the way to the throne. The pastry-cook
accepted with thoughtless presumption the dangerous part which was presented to him, and prepared
himself for it under the tuition of the friar, who had
known much of Don Sebastian. Among the nuns of
the Austin monastery, of which he was vicar, was a
natural daughter of Don John of Austria, and, as
such, a niece of Philip, whose name was Dona Anna,
of much simplicity of mind, and of very little vocation for a cloistral life. In her extreme disgust at
the condition into which she had been forced, she
used to request her confessor, whenever he said
mass, to pray God to have mercy on her, and put
her in a situation less repugnant to her disposition,
and in which she might better fulfill her duties to
Him. It struck Don Miguel de Los Santos that this
nun might be made a useful instrument in the execution of his plans, and he gradually filled her too
easily deceived mind with the pretended revelations
which, whilst officiating at the altar, he had received
from God and His Holy Apostles. According to
those revelations the highest destinies were re



236           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
served to her. She was to become the spouse of
Don Sebastian, who was still alive, and ascend with
him  the throne of Portugal. When he saw Dona
Anna fully convinced of the truth of these miraculous
communications, he presented to her the pastry-cook,
Espinosa, as the King of Portugal. The ingenuous
nun, whose weak head was completely turned, surrendered her heart to the good-looking impostor,
and there commenced an amorous correspondence
between her and him whom she considered as her
future husband. As a token of her love, she gave
him all the money she could command and her richest jewels, to facilitate the recovery of his Kingdom.
In her letters she called him "your Majesty," and
the friar used to address him in the same manner.
This intrigue lasted for some time, during which this
friar caused many persons to come from Portugal
who recognized Don Sebastian in the pastry-cook,
until this affair began to produce some considerable
excitement in Portugal and Castile. Gabriel do
Espinosa was soon arrested, and the letters of Dona
Anna brought to light. As members of the Church
were implicated, there was, as usual, a fierce conflict of jurisdiction between the civil and ecclesiastical Courts, which was finally set at rest by the appointment of an Apostolic Judge for this particular
case. Many persons were thrown into prison, some
were put to the torture, and there was much scandal. Philip, on this occasion, did not show his wellknown impassiveness. For some reasons which it is




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          237
hard to guess at, he took an extraordinary interest
in this affair-much greater than its circumstances
seemed to call for. There must have been at the
bottom of it something more serious or painful than
our penetration can seize.  He exacted a most
minute account of all the proceedings and incidents
of the judicial investigations, as they progressed;
and some of the facts which they developed elicited,
to the astonishment of all those who knew Philip,
the manifestation of considerable emotion in that
cold breast which had always been thought so little
susceptible of any. It is a circumstance of his life
involved in mystery, like several others which remain unexplained. At last sentence was pronounced
on the leading personages in this intrigue. Gabriel
de Espinosa was decreed to be put in a sack and
dragged to the place of execution in Madrigal, where
he was hung and quartered. His head was exposed
in an iron cage, and the other parts of his body were
suspended from two gibbets, with inscriptions, at
different points on the public roads. The friar,
Miguel de Los Santos, after having been degraded
by the judgment of an ecclesiastical Court, was delivered to the civil authority and hung in Madrid,
on the 19th of October, 1595. Dona Anna of Austria, who, one would suppose, was sufficiently punished by the mortification of having been a dupe,
by the painful sense of the ridicule which she had
incurred, by the shame of having been the cause of
so much scandal, and by the loss of her trinkets and




238           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
other valuables, was condemned to be transported
to the Monastery of Avila, and to a rigorous confinement of four years in her cell, during which she
was to be put on bread and water, every Friday, as
a penitential fast. She was also declared forever
incapable of any ecclesiastical dignity, and deprived
of the title of " Excellency," which she had hitherto
enjoyed. The silly young nun, the poor deluded
daughter of Don John of Austria, was certainly
entitled to be treated with more compassion by her
royal uncle. Among the other participators in this
plot, some were sentenced to be exiled, some to
work on the King's galleys, and several to be whipped publicly. Such was the tragical end of this
political and amorous conspiracy between a nun, a
friar, and a pastry-cook. It was a rich theme for a
comedy, ready found for the prolific pen of a Lope
de Vega; but Philip, who was not prone to laughter
steeped it in blood. His great and magnanimous
contemporary, Henry IV. of France, if anything of
the kind had happened in his Kingdom, would no
doubt have treated it with good-natured contempt.
He would probably have obtained for the inflammable damsel a dispensation in relation to her vows;
he would have provided her with a suitable husband,
immured the intriguing and would-be king-making
priest in a convent, and assigned in his royal kitchens a place to the ambitious pastry-cook.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         239
CHIAPTER  VII.
WE have already mentioned that the Spanish
Cortes, that great bulwark of Spanish liberties, had
been gradually and systematically robbed of their
pristine importance, first by Charles V., and next by
Philip II. It was a wheel, however, in the political
machine, which was still kept turning, but turning to
very little purpose. The circular motion was seen,
the usual noise was heard as it revolved on its axle,
but no useful result was produced. Thus under the
Roman Emperors, the deliberations of the Senate and
the appointment of Consuls were still kept up as under
the expired Republic, but the substance of power
had departed from these shadows. It was Caesar
who decided everything, and if it be true that the
Senate was once called upon to determine by its
patrician vote which was the most appropriate
sauce for an extraordinary turbot offered to the
master of the world, and that a favorite horse was
derisively appointed Consul by an imperial jester,
nothing could more forcibly represent the changes
which had taken place since that body had ruled all
the nations of the earth, and the Consuls had rested
their feet on the necks of kings. The Cortes, it is




240           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
true, had not come yet to such a degree of degradation, but their virility had been emasculated. They
no longer possessed any procreative faculties; they
could no longer initiate measures, inaugurate a system of external and internal policy, and have the
destinies of the nation in their own keeping. They
and the King were no longer the Government; the
King was the State. They could only appear before
him as suitors do before a court of justice, besides
their being a very convenient sort of assessors to
tax their constituents to the very marrow of their
bones-reluctantly, it is true, and notwithout remonstrances, but still to the ultimate satisfaction of the
King. They might address respectful petitions
which might, or might not, be granted, and that was
all. They expressed the desires of the people without being able to enforce them; they were a voice
crying in the wilderness, but nothing else. Well
aware that the Cortes would not even make a feeble
effort to check his unlimited authority, Philip seems
to have liked to convene them and to have them at
hand. He knew that they were the brain and the
heart of his subjects, and he was fond of ascertaining from them what there was in that brain and that
heart. Such knowledge, as long as he was sure that
both these noble organs could not emancipate themselves from the pressure of his iron grasp, might be
useful to him, without there being any danger to
be apprehended from the source from which it was
derived. Thus the sessions of these assemblies be



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          241
came more frequent under Philip than they had
been under any of his predecessors. We think that
a succinct analysis of their proceedings will complete the picture whichwe..have attempted to draw
of the reign of that Prince, as they are the refection
of the social lifef the epoch, and will give some
accurate idea, not only of the administration of the
Kingdom  in all its branches, but also of the wants
and grievances, the aspirations and prejudices, the
customs and habits, the moral and intellectual physiognomy of the Spanish people in the Sixteenth
Century.
We have already referred in preceding pages to
some of the doings of the Cortes from 1558 to 1567.
After a short interruption of three years, they met
again in Cordova, for it was the custom of the Sovereign to convene them from time to time in different places. One of the first acts of the Cortes,
when they assembled at that city, was to claim that
no further taxes, general or particular, be levied
without being granted by them. They reminded
Philip that this had been one of the fundamental
laws of the Kingdom, "established by the Cortes.
and by the Kings, his predecessors, of glorious memeory, such as Alonzo and others." They said that they'
knew very well that the excuse for it had been the
alleged necessity to provide for the expenses incurred by his father and by himself in those long wars
which had been undertaken for the defence of Christendom, but that this justification did n.ot satisfy the
16




242           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
people in their pretension that the observance of this
ancient right, sanctioned by a law of extreme antiquity, be faithfully complied with. They therefore
supplicated His Majesty that, for the future, no
tribute whatever be  exacted from  the people,
without the previous assent of the Cortes, according
to immemorial usage; that the collecting of such as
were illegally demanded be stopped, and that the
people be exempt, as heretofore, from the payment
of them, " because other means might be sought and
found to assist His Majesty without doing so much
damage to the Kingdom."  This petition of the
Cortes was as respectful as it was well grounded.
Philip replied that the necessities which had compelled him to act in this manner had not only not
ceased, but were even increasing every day, and
therefore that he could not but continue to do as he
had done. Formerly no king of Castile, or of Aragon,
or of any other Kingdom in Spain, save those parts
where Moslem despotism was enthroned, would have
dared to send this arrogant answer to his Cortes, or
if he had, he would soon have repented of his presumption. But times had changed, and this change
had begun with the Austrian dynasty. The Cortes
were no longer Sovereigns, they were beggars at
the foot of the throne; beggars not for favors, but
for what was legitimately due to them, and had been
their possession by the prescriptive sanction of
centuries.
The duties on all sales and the two-ninths levied




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           243
on ecclesiastical tithes had been fixed for twenty
years, and as this term was nearly at an end, it was
asked that it should be renewed. Constantly anticipating fresh applications for money on the part of
the Government, and, consequently, the laying of
heavier burdens on the shoulders of the people, the
Cortes had always been anxious that the taxes
be determined in "an unchangeable manner as
long as possible, and, if practicable, forever," as
experience, they contended, had demonstrated that
it was the system the least vexatious and oppressive. The King answered that the term  of years
referred to had not expired, and that, when such
should be the case, it would be time enough to take
their request into consideration.
The administration of justice, the attributes of the
Courts and the rules by which they were governed,
had been the source of frequent complaints from
preceding Cortes, who had unsuccessfully presented
numerous plans of reforms. The Cortes of Cordova
returned to the same subject with the same pertinacity. They proposed that there should be an
appeal from the Council of the Treasury (Hacienda)
to the Royal Council, which inspired more general
confidence than any other tribunal. The ever-increasing number of attorneys at law and of other
individuals who lived by fomenting litigation having become a serious evil, they proposed that it be
restricted. They also proposed the abolition of
many offices which seemed to have been created for




244           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
no other purpose than to make the ordinary transactions of life, particularly among the laboring and
mercantile classes, more difficult, more expensive
and more liable to confusion.  The Judges and
Alcaldes were frequently absent from the districts
where they should have resided permanently. The
Cortes begged that this evil be remedied. Some of
the Judges were in the habit of holding court during
the harvest season, much to the inconvenience of
the peasantry. The Cortes desired that it should
be otherwise. They denounced the long and interminable writings and formalities by which notaries
and other public officers who lived by the exercise
of the quill contrived to vex and plunder the people, and they pointed out multifarious reforms which
might be beneficially introduced in the trial of civil
and criminal cases. The abuses complained of were
so gross, that one would have supposed that the
dullest eye  would have seen  them  and taken
offence at these sores of the social body.  But
to most of these petitions Philip returned the
answer, that it was "not expedient to make any
changes," or that he would "look into the subject,"
or that he would " reflect and do what was right."
In conformity with the notions of political economy prevailing at the time, the Cortes insisted on
the necessity of enforcing strictly the prohibition
of exporting corn and those animals whose flesh is
used as food-what they designated as " bread and
meat." The impropriety of fixing the market price




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          245
of corn was generally felt, and yet the only remedy
which they found for it was to change the rate of
the tariff, thus modifying the effect of an error instead of attacking it in its source. The Cortes of
Cordova reiterated the complaints of former ones,
that the sale of so many titles of nobility, which
exempted their purchasers from tax-paying, was extremely unjust and injurious to the poor and to all
those who remained in the Plebeian class, because
their contribution to the Treasury of the State had
to be raised in proportion to the increase of the
number of those who were exempt from  such a
charge. Nothing could be better founded than this
appeal to the sense of justice which ought to have
existed in the Royal breast.  But Philip replied:
"That he had used this expedient, among others, to
relieve his necessities; that he could not do otherwise; and that, in so doing, he had only exercised
legitimately one of his prerogatives." When they
remonstrated against the alienation of villages and
rural estates belonging to the Crown, together with
the exemption from taxation and other privileges
appertaining to that sort of alienated property, he
answered: " That he had made those sales for just
and valid reasons; but that, in the future, he would
see that nothing be done in matters of this kind
which should not be required by the circumstances
of the case." Such was the constant evasiveness of
his replies. It is astonishing that it did not tire out
the patience of the Cortes, and did not induce them




246           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
to put an end at once to deliberations and petitions
which had become, with a face of apparent solemnity, an absolute and positive farce in reality. They
were probably afraid of offending the Monarch if
they ceased to keep up this semblance of popular
representation.
We have stated in the course of this review of
Philip's reign, that he was in the habit of appropriating to himself the gold and silver which came from
America for the account of individuals. At different
epochs in the past, the Cortes had clamored against
these royal outrages.  A  discontinuance of this
practice had been promised by the King, but it
seems that the present Cortes had a strong suspicion,
if not actual proof, that this abuse was still in existence, for they returned to the subject about which
their predecessors had expressed their disapprobation, and dilated on the injury which such a highhanded stretch of authority inflicted on the commerce and prosperity of the Kingdom. On this
question the King condescended to be more explicit
than usual.  He assured the Cortes that he had
ceased to take the gold or silver referred to, and
would continue to abstain from applying it to the
wants of the State.
It had been found that, wherever the King repaired with the numerous and magnificent court by
which he was always followed, the price of lodgings
rose to a fabulous price. This was ruinous for those
who were compelled to be in attendance upon the




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          247
Sovereign or his Ministers, for the transaction of
public or private business. The Cortes begged his
Majesty to form a commission composed of two or
three of those who let out lodgings, and of as many
other persons to be appointed bv the Municipal
Council of the city, town or place in which his Majesty should happen to reside, with instructions to
establish a tariff for rooms and habitations, setting
forth the precise price for each one, and prescribing
a penalty for the violation of such regulations. This
seemed equitable enough, and one would have supposed that it was, after all, a point on which there
would have been no objection to gratify the national
will; but the King did not think proper to depart,
on this occasion, from the habit of giving vague and
dilatory answers. He contented himself with informing the Cortes that " the subject would be discussed in his Council."
The cities and towns of Spain, whenever they
were called upon by the Sovereign to assist him in
his wars, had enjoyed the prescriptive right of appointing the commanders of the troops which they
furnished ready equipped. In the last war against
the Moors of Granada Philip had usurped that
ancient right, of the violation of which the Cortes
respectfully complained.  They begged that the
King be pleased to leave it as it stood before. He
admitted for once the justice of their petition, and
promised that "he would act accordingly in the
future."  He added that, if he had acted differently




248            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
in the war against the Moors, it was on account of
the peculiarity of the service which the cities and
towns had been invited to render on that occasion.
What that peculiarity was does not appear, nor is it
possible to ascertain why there was a greater necessity for the King to appoint in this war than in
any other the captains of companies or other commanders.
Some of the petitions of the Cortes of Cordova
give a sad idea of the morals, customs and habits of
the epoch.  They dwelt, like their predecessors, on
the necessity of not permitting any male visitants,
either of the clergy or laity, to penetrate into the
interior of the convents or monasteries of female
recluses, and recommended that the visits paid to
these institutions be confined to the common reception parlor, or some other place where iron grates
intervened between the visitant and the visited. It
must have been exceedingly difficult to eradicate the
practice which is thus denounced, because it had
been, for years past, the constant theme of the complaints of the Cortes, and the disorders which prevailed in many of those monastic establishments
must have been very great, since we find that Philip
was obliged to send instructions to his Corregidores*
to investigate, "with secrecy, adroitness and dissimulation," the excesses which were pointed out to
him, and which scandalized the people in conse* A Magistrate in Spain. It is derived from the word correct, or castigate.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          249
quence of the bad example presented by so many
persons consecrated to the worship of God.  "You
shall report to me on this subject," he said, "in
order that these delinquencies be punished according to law." It seems that the policemen and municipal guards who patrolled the cities and towns of
Spain to maintain order were themselves the cause
of frightful disorders; for, under various pretexts,
they entered the houses of honest citizens, carried
away their wives and daughters, and made them the
victims of their lust. The Cortes denounced to the
King and deplored the habitual perpetration of these
nefarious deeds, and begged that the policemen and
municipal guards be prohibited from  entering at
night any other houses than such as were occupied
by women of the town and concubines. The regulations applicable to prostitutes which Philip published in 1571, are a striking exemplification of the
depraved laxity of public morals at the time. This
Royal ordinance is composed of fourteen articles.*
They contain details which, curiously characteristic
as they are, it is impossible to relate without doing
violence to decency. We shall only mention the
twelfth, which ordered prostitutes to adopt a certain
costume by which they were distinguished from
honest women. They were prohibited from using
cloaks, bonnets, gloves and light shoes, and had to
wear a short yellow mantilla or mantle, under the
* Archives of Simancas.




250            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
penalty of three hundred maravedis,* and of losing
by confiscation any article of their dress which
should happen to be different from the one prescribed.
Some petitions, in relation to the study of medicine and surgery, are an evidence of the little
progress which these two sciences had made in
Spain. The Cortes expressed the wish that no student of medicine should graduate before having
previously obtained the degree of bachelorship in
astrology, "because," they  said, "practitioners,
from the want of a proper knowledge of the critical
days and of the movements of the planets, fail to
cure many patients."  The Cortes remonstrated
against the naturalization of foreigners; they solicited that the Kingdom be supplied with arms, and
insisted on the policy of renewing the breed of
horses, as the race of those noble animals, for which
Spain had been so famous, was rapidly deteriorating.  Many other points of internal administration did not escape their attention. The number of
petitions which they presented amounted in all to
ninety-one, of which but very few were granted,
and even three years elapsed before these few be.
gan to be acted upon.
In the year 1573, the Cortes met in Madrid.
They reproduced the complaints of their predecessors in those matters which had been so frequently
* A small copper coin, equal to three-tenths of a cent, American money,
or a little less than a farthing sterling.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          251
submitted  to  the consideration  of Philip, and
pressed upon him  the urgent necessity of such
reforms. To a few  of these petitions the King
vouchsafed a favorable answer, but to the great
majority of them he replied as usual, that "he
would see what was proper to be done," or that
he would " examine into it," or that he would " confer about it in his Council."  These Cortes of
Madrid represented to the King that many members
of that assembly were public officers, and therefore
in his pay as such; that this circumstance prevented
such deputies from possessing that degree of liberty
which was necessary to propose such measures and
give such votes as the interests and welfare of the
Kingdom required; and besides, that there was "a
grave inconvenience" resulting from this state of
things, which was, that such members were suspected by the rest of their colleagues, and that it
destroyed the general harmony and  confidence
which ought to exist among them. They, in conclusion, supplicated his Majesty that persons holding office under the Crown, or being in the enjoyment of any pensions or favors from it, be not
eligible to their body. Questions of this kind have
been repeatedly agitated in modern times in various
countries where representative Governments have
been established. This petition, addressed to such
a man as Philip, shows the spirit of independence
which was still lurking in the Cortes, notwithstanding the curtailment of their powers, the diminution




252           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
of their importance, and, in fact, the state of servitude to which they had been reduced. They were
even so bold as to make observations on the rewards
which the King granted to those who served his
personal interests in that assembly, and designated
several recent instances of these improper remunerations and of this corrupting influence.  The
nature of this petition must have been disagreeably
new to Philip. It had an air of possible resistance
to his authority and of condemnation of his acts.
There was a ring of the true metal in it which must
have grated harshly on the despot's ears. He resolved that the odious sound should not be repeated,
that the voice of something like that of freedom
should not be heard again, and therefore his answer, on this occasion, ceased to be evasive. It
was abrupt, short and categorical. We can almost
fancy that we hear the peremptory tone of stern
reprobation with which it was uttered.* " I answer
you," said the King, " that it is not proper to make
any change in this matter."
The prevailing opinion in Spain had been, foi a
long time, that the diminution of the revenues of the
Kingdom and that its general impoverishment were
due to the immense quantity of lands held in mortmain
by the Clergy, and to the vast accumulation of unproductive and  uncirculating wealth which was
locked up in their monasteries and other religious
* A esto vos respondemos que no conviene hacer en ello novedad.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          253
establishments. Those corporations never parted
with anything, and their acquisitions were incessant.
The enormous leech always sucked, but never disgorged. In conformity with the express instructions of their constituents, the Cortes had clamored
against this evil. It had been a fruitful theme for
the complaints of the Cortes of Valladolid, in 1517
and 1523, of the Cortes of Segovia in 1532, of
the Cortes of Madrid in 1534 and 1563. Those remonstrances were repeated in 1573. It certainly
was the undoubted and settled expression of the
national will, as evidenced by the frequency, the
unanimity and pertinacity with which it was conveyed to the throne. But Philip returned the invariable answer which he had often given on that
subject: "It is not expedient that there be any
change."  The same prayer ascended from year to
year from the heart of the nation, and it met, every
time, the same frigid and unrelenting denial.
Notwithstanding the proverbial reputation of the
Castilians for sobriety of habits, extravagance in
dress and in the furniture of houses had become so
great, that the Cortes had frequently thought themselves under the obligation to propose to the King
measures for its repression, although the experience
of ages had demonstrated the futility of sumptuary
laws. It appears that women, when they married,
used to spend for their bridal clothes and jewels as
much as their dowry was worth. The Cortes petitioned the King to prohibit parents from giving to




254            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
their daughters in trinkets and dress more than
one-twentieth part of the value of their dowry, and
notaries from framing any marriage contract without inserting that stipulation under the sanctity of
an oath. They also petitioned that no article of
wood or of copper, or of any other metal, be gilded
or plated, except such as were destined to divine
worship, to the embellishment of arms or accoutrements for horses, and that the violation of this ordinance be visited with appropriate penalties. The
reason which they gave for it was, that, in consequence of such follies, the Kingdom was, for the
present, considerably drained of all the gold and
silver "with which it had been so abundantly supplied by God."
There had been already, in former times, several
royal ordinances intended for the repression of the
excessive luxury which women displayed in their
apparel, but they had remained dead letters, or
rather had been like those withered leaves which no
one cares for, and which are left to be the sport of
the wind. The Cortes attributed the non-observance of those regulations to the ingenuity of the
tailors and other dressmakers, who daily invented
fashions and ornaments, and threw so many irresistible temptations in the way of the foolish and
frivolous. They said to the King that a large number of men were engaged in a kind of occupation
which was fit only for females, instead of serving
his Majesty in his wars, or of tilling the ground, or




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          255
raising cattle, or sheep, or other useful animals, in
those places where they were born; and that they
preferred repairing to the large cities or towns.
where they lived by plying the needle, and led a
life of much greater ease and comfort than they could
otherwise have done, had they remained at their
respective rural homes, and performed the hard but
beneficial and praiseworthy labor to which they had
been originally destined. This petition, although it
met with favor from the King, who subsequently issued a pragmatic in conformity with its spirit, had no
more effect in curing the evil complained of, than if it
had been aimed at the ebb and flow of the sea. The
intentions of the Cortes were undoubtedly very good,
but they were not practical. The morals of a nation
never were suddenly established or purified by a
mere legislative decree enforced by executive authority. Whether good or bad, whether in their
primitive formation, or in their progressive decay,
or under the reaction of reform, they are slowly
generated by causes and circumstances in which the
folly or wisdom of man may have a considerable
share, but which work, nevertheless, in conformity
with the final and inflexible laws of nature. In such
matters, a pure religion, and a sound domestic education, strengthened by conspicuous example at the
apex of the social pyramid, are the most powerful
legislators to be relied on, when they have once succeeded in getting the mastery.
Coaches had been lately introduced into Spain,




256           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
and had become so much in vogue, that all families
must set up one, under the penalty of being nobodies. The consequence was, that those who had
but a small fortune, or even hardly any at all, made
ruinous sacrifices to keep up what they considered
an evidence of social position and a recommendation
to respectful consideration. The Cortes came to the
conclusion that this kind of luxury was not only
detrimental to individuals, but injurious also to the
State, because it withdrew from agricultural labor
the mules who were taken for so many coaches, and
raised considerably the price of these animals, who
were now bred in preference to horses, in consequence of which the acquisition of good horsemanship would be neglected. They therefore supplicated the King that, considering " these inconveniences and others not mentioned," and considering that,
"for so many years, Spain had done very well
without coaches," His Majesty be pleased to prohibit the use of this new invention. The Monarch
replied that "the subject had been already under
advisement, and that he would provide for it in the
way most fit and proper."
These Cortes, like the preceding ones, lamented
the progressive deterioration of the breed of horses,
as well as the notable diminution of those animals in
the Kingdom; and, among the measures which they
proposed to remedy this evil, was the exempting of
those who were bound when called upon in case of
danger to do military service with horse and arms,




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          257
from the performance of that feudal duty, on condition
that they should keep as many as six mares. It was
thought of the utmost importance, not only to encourage the raising of horses, but also the study of equitation, and particularly the knowledge and use of a certain kind of horsemanship called La gineta; and the
Cortes of Madrid, thinking that the suppression of
bull-fights ordered some years before according to
the wish of their predecessors, had been injurious
to the attainment of these objects, petitioned for the
re-establishment of that old and favorite amusement
"as soon as it could be done."  Never was a petition so graciously received by the King. He replied that "he would instruct his Council to take
the subject of their request into speedy consideration, and not to lose sight of it until justice had been
done to its merits." The wish of the Cortes was
soon gratified, but it is not a little singular that,
before complying with it, Philip should have deemed
it expedient to consult the Holy See. It was hardly
to be expected that the Pope should have been
asked permission for the restoration of the national
entertainment of bull-fights in Spain.
Many salutary reforms were pointed out as proper
to be made in the Department of Justice, particularly
with a view to avoid the long delays, heavy costs
and other vexations so well known to litigants; for
most of the tribunals of Spain had the unenviable
reputation of the English Chancery, in which it is
not uncommon for suits to outlive many generations.
17




258           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
The Cortes begged that new courts be established
in certain localities for the convenience of the population, and that no one be sued out of the district
in which he resided. They turned also their attention to public education, and, among other things,
prayed that a faculty of law be established in the
University of Alcala, with the same privileges and
advantages possessed by similar institutions in Salamanca, Valladolid, and  Bologna in Italy. The
answer of the King on this matter was, " that he
would look into it and do what would be proper."
The Cortes recommended that each town and village
be required to put up at the end, or head, as it
might happen, of every road terminating or originating within their precincts, or at every cross-road,
or at every point where a road forked, in the district within which they were situated, some indication by which travelers would be guided as to the
direction they might wish to take, be it in the shape
of wooden crosses, stone posts, or sheets of lead. It
was a measure which would have cost little, and the
utility of which could not be questioned.  One
would hardly have anticipated that such a suggestion could fail. to be readily adopted. Not so with
Philip, who replied that " he would think on it," and
as usual with him  in most cases when any sort of
internal improvement was recommended by the
Cortes, he dismissed it forever from his mind.
The Cortes met again at Madrid in 1576, and
remained in session until 1578, a period sufficiently




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          259
long, one would suppose, to do a world of business.
They elaborated seventy-three petitions.  In the
first which they presented to the King they remonstrated, as the Cortes of Cordova had done in 1570,
against the illegal practice of levying taxes on the
people which had not been previously granted by
their Representatives, and they begged that all the
royal ordinances on that subject which had been
issued in violation of the fundamental laws of the
Kingdom  be revoked. In the second, they complained like their predecessors, six years before, of
the wasteful alienation of the domains of the Crown
which was still going on to meet the wants of the
King. But spendthrifts have always paid very little attention to the monitions of their friends or
well-wishers, and Philip was not an exception. In
the third petition, the Cortes desired the Monarch,
if his multifarious and laborious occupations prevented him from paying occasional and personal
visits to the different parts of his Kingdom, from
seeing with his own eyes its condition, and from
ascertaining the wants of his subjects, to be pleased
to have himself represented by delegates of his authority, whose ministry should be to investigate the
manner in which public officers performed their
functions in the provinces, and punish those who
should happen to fail in the discharge of their duties.
Among other abuses was the appointment for life
to certain municipal officers, and sometimes with a
right of transmission to the heirs of the incumbents,




260           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
in return for a sum of money paid to the Crown.
The Cortes complained of the injury to the public
which resulted from  such a practice, and prayed
that those officers be elected annually as formerly.
They also clamored, as in a preceding session,
against the use of coaches, and solicited their prohibition, on the ground "that they were an occasion
for display, and not for exercise." The King viewed
the subject in the same light, and, in order to diminish the number of these objects of luxury, decreed
that no one should sport a coach or carriage in
cities, or within a radius of five leagues around
them, " without driving it with four horses owned
by himself, and not hired, or borrowed," under the
penalty of forfeiting the carriages and horses, with
their harness and other appendages.
The Cortes felt the importance of providing the
youths who destined themselves to the priesthood,
with the means of acquiring a moral and religious
education, and petitioned for the establishment of
seminaries and schools of divinity in connection
with metropolitan churches and cathedrals, as decreed by the Council of Trent. They recommended
that young men, however brilliant the success in
their studies might have been at the universities,
and however great their legal attainments, should
not be appointed to the highest offices of the magistracy, without their having previously given proofs
of their discretion and morality, and without their
having shown that they knew how to make a good




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           261
use of their science and a practical application of it in
the inferior tribunals. They were still more scrupulously exacting as to the qualifications of the ecclesiastical judges. One single fact will give an idea
of the extent of the encroachments which the clerical authorities had been gradually permitted to
make over the jurisdiction of the secular. For instance, they had fallen into the monstrous habit of
fulminating  excommunication against individuals,
even for petty debts when not paid.  It was at
that epoch a terrible weapon, of which it is not easy
in our age to realize the power.  In vain those
wretches pleaded their extreme poverty, in vain
they sued for delay and offered sufficient security for
ultimate payment; they were inexorably excluded
from the Church, and deprived of all its rights and
privileges-a penalty which, at that time in Spain,
was as serious a one as could be inflicted, short of
death. It is probable that the Clergy, as a plea for
their interfering in such matters, assumed that it
was sinful to get in debt. But the Cortes remonstrated strongly against this enormous abuse. They
begged that excommunication be no longer permitted in such cases, and that debtors be cited to appear only before the civil courts. They proposed
that certain magistrates and other officials connected
with the administration of justice be better paid,
and be given salaries which would enable them to live
with the decorum  required by their station; that
the municipal officers of those cities and towns which




262           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
sent representatives to the Cortes be not permitted
to exercise any of the mechanical arts, or engage in
any trade or gainful pursuit, on account of which
their persons would be discredited; that the salaries of the members of the Cortes who represented
cities be not paid by those cities only which elected
them, but by the whole province, whose interests
they also represented; and that no one be privileged to engross two incompatible offices or employments. The political wisdom of these propositions was apparent, but Philip received them with
his usual indifference. There was in that man an
unconquerable force of inertia.
The Cortes had seen with much displeasure that
the nobles were gradually less addicted to those
military exercises and that wholesome art of horsemanship which had made them agile, robust and
adroit, and which had so eminently qualified them for
the hardships and perils of war. In order to put a
stop to this growing effeminacy, the Cortes thought
that it was expedient to revive the ancient spirit of
the nobles by re-establishing, with a suitable degree
of splendor, those exciting entertainments in which
the patrician order used to take the lead and make
itself conspicuous by its achievements. Thus it had
been customary for Grandees and men of gentle
blood to be members of the associations for bullfights, or to be their patrons and sponsors.  They
also entered the arena as combatants, and performed
the parts which are now left to professional and




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          263
salaried artists. It was not then uncommon for the
proudest Grandee to excite the frantic applause of
the multitude by appearing sword in hand in front
of the enraged bull, and killing him with as much
skill as bravery. For the reasons which we have
alleged, the Cortes of 1570 and 1573 had petitioned
for the restoration of that national amusement, and
those of 1576 had proposed that the municipalities
of all those towns which were of sufficient importance to pretend to having bull-fights, should at their
expense have a place prepared for such exhibitions;
that they should supply with lances such gentlemen
as might desire to go through a preliminary course
of practice; and that they should furnish the music,
whenever those entertainments were given to the
public. It was almost the only petition to which
the King granted his approbation with promptitude
and in explicit terms.  He answered the Cortes
that, in this matter, " it should be done forthwith as
they desired."  As to the other propositions, he
met them in his accustomed style of: "We shall
see," or,' we shall reflect," or, "we shall deliberate
in council."
Hardly had the Cortes closed their session on the
31st of December, 1578, when their successors met
in the beginning of the year 1579, and continued
their labors until 1582. They complained that so
many petitions presented by their predecessors had
remained unattended to, and they prayed that the
King should henceforth answer their prayers before




264            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
their adjournment, and that no law and no ordinance
be published by the Crown before consulting them,
when they were assembled. They reproduced almost all the former petitions of the Cortes which had
not been granted, and expressed the desire that
certain custom-houses, recently established by a
Royal decree, be abolished; that a number of offices
which had been created by the same authority in
several branches of the administration be also abolished, and that there be no further creation of the
kind; that the royal revenues be farmed out, and
not collected by administrators; and that new laws
and ordinances be made in relation to the discovery
and working of mines. They insisted on the importance of preventing the amortizement of lands
and tenements in favor of the clergy, and supplicated
the King to remember that the Cortes had never
ceased to remonstrate against this abuse since the
beginning of the reign of the Emperor Charles V.
They added:' Until now no remedy has been applied to it, but experience has demonstrated how
just and necessary is this reform, because  the
churches, monasteries and other pious institutions
have possessed themselves of the greater portion of
the real estates of the Kingdom. We supplicate
your Majesty to stop this ever-increasing evil, when
it is yet time to provide for it." On this occasion,
at last, the King did not answer as before, that " it
was not proper to make any change," but that, " by
his command, this matter was under advisement in




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           265
his Royal Council, and that such application as the
case required would be made to the Holy See."
The Cortes presented a remarkable petition against
that favorite tool of Philip-the omnipotent Inquisition.  " The officials and ministers of the Holy Office," they said, "are so highly favored in consequence of their station, that they meddle with many
things which concern them not, and whenever any
one of them is involved in a quarrel or dispute, or
takes a part in any transaction, or is connected with
any affair, it affords a pretext to the Inquisitors of
the district to assume jurisdiction over the case, and
to incarcerate many persons, to whom  much harm
results. The public hears of the imprisonment, but
is not informed of the cause of it. The supposition
is that it is in consequence of delinquencies against
the Church and the true faith. It throws a stain on
those unfortunate beings and their descendants which
they are scarcely ever able to wipe out, and they
are much injured in their character, in their social
position, and in their pursuits or avocations." The
Cortes, therefore, supplicated his Majesty to instruct
the Inquisitors not to correct anybody except in cases
of heresy, or offence against the Catholic faith. That
assembly drew as many as ninety-five petitions on
matters of administration and political economy.
Some were founded on those erroneous maxims prevailing at the time concerning the management of
public affairs, and proposed, for certain abuses, reforms and remedies which were more prejudicial




266           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
than salutary, but most of those petitions recommended measures which would have been highly
beneficial if adopted by the Government. The same
may be said of the preceding Cortes. It is impossible not to come to the conclusion that, if Philip had
listened to the representations of those faithful exponents of the wants and aspirations of his subjects,
the decline of Spain would have been arrested, and
that with renovated vigor she would have entered
into a new career of prosperity and grandeur.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          267
CHAPTER VIII.
THE financial condition of Spain, when Philip II.
ascended the throne, was such as to have justly
created the most serious alarms. It required only
common sense to be convinced that this disorder
must be stopped, or that the country could not fail
to fall into the most poverty-stricken helplessness.
It was in vain that the New World continued, with
ceaseless abundance, to yield its countless treasures
to the avaricious grasp of its conquerors; it was in
vain that the subjects of the Spanish Monarchy were
groaning under ever-increasing taxes, the Royal
treasury remained empty. This was due to Philip's
unwise foreign policy, which involved him in wars
and intrigues by which immense sums were absorbed, and to an internal administration in which corruption, imbecility and oppression combined their
efforts to dry up all the resources of the Kingdom.
Loans after loans were procured by paying the most
usurious interests, and mountains of debts rose on
each other in endless succession, whilst laws were
made which repressed, instead of developing, commerce and industry in all its branches, and whilst
exemptions from tax-paying were sold to an extent
which is hardly credible. The exigencies of the




268           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
hour were satisfied by destroying the sources of
revenue; the most ruinous means to raise money
which penury run mad could devise were resorted
to, and made the national bankruptcy a proximate
certainty. A  proper system  of retrenchment and
economy, order, vigilance, honesty and responsibility
introduced in the various departments of the administration, an inflexible determination to bring
the expenses to a level with the income of the State,
and the appropriation of a sinking fund for the gradual extinguishment of its obligations, would have
been the policy pursued by a wise and patriotic
Monarch, but Philip went on plunging heedlessly
into the financial chaos which he found gaping before
him, giving new energy to its wild uproar and confusion, making darkness darker, and gathering round
his random and starless course more inextricable
difficulties, which he himself had produced. With
the rashness of the prodigal, who seems to be intoxicated by the very sight of the ruin to which
he rushes, and willing to drown in the riotous
enjoyment of the present all care of providing for
the necessities of the future,)he wasted with a sort
of headlong extravagance, which looks incompatible
with his phlegmatic temperament, as much of his inheritance as he could dispose of, and he mortgaged
the rest. He himself, in a note to his treasurer,
Francisco Garneca, expresses very pithily the extremity of destitution to which he had been reduced
by his own folly.  " Having already reached," he




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          269
said, "my forty-eighth year, and the hereditary
Prince, my son, being only three years old, I cannot
but see with the keenest anxiety the disorderly condition of the treasury. What a prospect for my old
age, if I am permitted to have a longer career, when
I am now living from day to day, without knowing
how I shall live on the next, and how I shall procure
that of which I am so much in need!"  It is hardly
to be conceived how this Prince came, in his lifetime, to be surnamed the " Prudent." He certainly
performs the part and holds the language of a young
spendthrift, whom the dissipations of Paris or London have stripped of his patrimonial acres and
doomed to tardy repentance.
In order to remedy this deplorable state of things,
the King formed a Junta or Commission, composed
of individuals chosen out of the several Royal Councils, and instructed them to report with the utmost
diligence on this urgent and vital subject. They
went to work without loss of time as desired, but
their united wisdom  could not devise any other
measure than such as despoiled the creditors of the
State and violated the sanctity of contracts. To this
act of iniquity, which was to be as fatal to its perpetrators as to those against whom it was directed,
Philip gave his approbation.  The payments to
which those creditors were entitled were suspended,
the stipulated interests reduced, and new obligations
or promises, under a different form, and framed in
accordance with the views and necessities of the




270            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
Government, were given to those who had claims
against it. This immoral and impolitic breach of
faith elicited loud and indignant complaints from its
Spanish and from its foreign creditors. It divulged
to Europe the whole extent of the financial distress
under which Philip labored, it gave the final blow
to his already tottering credit, it proclaimed to his
enemies the secret of his growing debility, and instead of relieving, it increased the embarrassments
of the treasury.
There is, however, a work of public utility, for
which it gratifies us to give credit to Philip, for we
have had little occasion to praise him, and it is
much to be regretted that it was not completed. It
was designed to be a vast repository, not only of
statistical, but also of geographical and historical
information, and it would have been of great use for
establishing a just and accurate basis for the assessment of property and the apportionment of taxes.
The instructions given for its execution were ample
and minute, and might serve as a model worthy of
imitation, even in this our age of advanced civilization. The work progressed so far as to produce
several valuable folios, and yet withered before
maturity, in consequence of the paralysis which was
slowly spreading over the whole country. Philip
had desired also a general map of Spain to be made,
and had intrusted the surveys which it required to
Don Pedro Esquivel, a celebrated mathematician
and professor at the University of Alcala, but they




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          271
were abandoned on account of his death and that of
his successor during their operations. This has been
but too often in Spain the fate of useful projectsa beginning, and no  termination -a spasmodic
effort, and a collapse.
The financial distress which pervaded the Kingdom was not without its anomaly, and the national
atrophy without its exception and contrast.  If the
creditors of the State were defrauded, if public
officers clamored in vain for their meagre salary,
if armies mutinied or melted away from the withholding of their pay, if contractors abandoned their
works because their wages were not forthcoming,
if fleets could not sail because they were unprovided
with everything they needed, if Philip pretended
that there was not one day when he knew how he
should live on the next, if the artisan's shop had to
be closed from  the want of employment, if fertile
fields remained uncultivated by the husbandman,
who calculated that his labor would not produce
enough to meet the demands of the tax-gatherer, if
squalid beggary swarmed where industry had once
smiled with contentment, if a fatal drowsiness seemed
gradually to benumb the faculties of a noble race,
there was at least one spot where flowed a continual
stream of gold, where work had its merited guerdon,
and where repose was pillowed in the lap of abundance. That spot was formerly an obscure, deserted
and miserable village in the vicinity of Madrid.
Now it was alive with the presence of thousands of




272           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
mechanics and laborers of all sorts, and had become
the residence of many artists of genius, who strove,
in emulation of each other, to produce architectural
prodigies and masterpieces of sculpture and painting. (There, was royalty itself giving assiduously to
the whole work a superintendence of love, acting
with unwonted familiarity and good-nature, smiling
approbation, encouraging with look, word and gesture, pouring gold into horny palms which heaved
up ponderous stones, and into those delicate hands
which gave a visible form to the glorious conceptions
of taste and imagination. There, was Philip stirring up himself and others, and there, grew the
Escorial from its Cyclopean foundations. There, a
city of canvas structures, of tented workshops, of
thatched huts, of sheds, pavilions and wooden buildings of all sorts had suddenly arisen to accommodate the multitude which the King had summoned
to erect a monument for the wonder of all ages.
There, all was action and noise and bustle from the
early dawn until night darkened the scene; there,
the music of the hammer and the music of the human
voice; there, the varied songs of all the provinces
of Spain, for they were all represented, and the
agglomerated volume of sounds proceeding from an
infinite variety of machines, vehicles and tools. It
was the tumult of Babel, without its confusion.
The pieces of stone used for the construction of
that gigantic edifice were so enormous, that it was
not uncommon to see forty or fifty pairs of oxen




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           273
engaged in transporting a single one of those detached fragments of neighboring rocks.  Whole
mines seemed to have been exhausted to furnish the
iron, lead, copper and tin which were used; the quantity of bronze was in proportion.  Jaspers of various
hues and Lapis Lazuli, the most beautiful marbles
of Spain and Italy, the most precious woods of Europe and America, with other materials for inside
and outside decoration, which are too numerous to
be described, were collected with a profusion which
struck with amazement those who saw the gorgeous
exhibition   This far-famed edifice is a rectangular
parallelogram of some 744 feet from North to South,
and 580 from East to West.*  It stands about 2,700
feet above the level of the sea, and looks like a natural part of the mountain of granite out of which it
has been constructed.t  The square of the building
covers 3,002 feet; there are 63 fountains, 12 cloisters, 80 staircases, 16 courtyards, 3,000 feet of
painted fresco, and 11,000 windows, which are said
to have been intended as a compliment to the memory of the virgin martyrs of Cologne.  An eyewitness wrote, that the number of the men who built
the Escorial can no more be ascertained than that
of those who erected the Temple of Solomon.  "So
many: works were carried on at the same time," he
said, "that, although I lived many years in their
midst, I am still at a loss to comprehend how it
* Madoz, vii., 527.      f Murray's Spain.
$ Cabrera's History of Philip, c. 17.
18




274            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
could be done; and, vanquished in the attempt to
relate it, I leave the task to other historians, as I
feel like St. John the Evangelist, who despaired of
describing what he saw of the Transfiguration."
The Spanish  historian, Modesto  Lafuente, to
whom we are so largely indebted in this composition,
says of the Escorial: " Various and even conflicting
judgments have been passed, from the beginning to
this time, on this gigantic, austere and marvellous
edifice.  Some have considered its author as the
prototype of piety, and others, of religious fanaticism.  As to ourself, we think that he was a compound of both.  It seems to us, also, that it is impossible to deny with justice the splendor of the conception.  It is certainly wonderful that, when Europe was convulsed with wars, when nations saw
their fields uncultivated and their treasures exhausted, when in other Kingdoms the hands of the
Protestants were occupied in demolishing the Catholic churches, there should be found a Monarch who,
in a corner of Castile and at the foot of a barren
and rocky mountain, raised and consecrated to religion a monument of such colossal dimensions    a
peaceful and silent abode for Kings and monks to
live together, as if he had flung defiance at the
world, and said:'I will build up an inexpugnable
fortress against the new doctrines, and an adamantine shelter where religion and royalty will feel assured that not a single one of those ideas which
agitate and perturb the world can penetrate.'  If it




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           275
was true piety, the grandeur of the inspiration was
worthy of its origin; if it was religious fanaticism.
its effect was the same, although proceeding from a
source less pure.
"In an economical point of view, it is difficult
not to consider the Escorial as an ostentatious and
magnificent error.  When the nations over which
extended the sceptre of Spain were daily complaining of the insupportable weight of the tributes imposed upon them, when so many ordinary and extraordinary taxes were not sufficient to cover the
expenses of the Kingdom, when the Spanish troops,
who were shedding their blood to subject to the
arms of Castile distant regions, were every day matinying from the want of pay; when the King himself was lamenting his own personal state of destitution, to invest immense sums in the construction
of an edifice which, however admirable in its religious and artistic aspect, was at least not necessary,
seems to have been an unjustifiable deviation from
common sense and judgment.  It is impossible to
approve of impoverishing a nation to build a sumptuous dwelling for one hundred and forty monks."
The chronicler, Father Siguenza, who is the most
fervent apologist of that superb monument, could not
but confess that "the Spaniards had deeply rooted
in their hearts the sad conviction that it was the
cause of all their poverty, sufferings, taxes and tributes."  We have already stated, in the course of
this work, that the whole cost of the Escorial had




276           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
been at least six millions of ducats; a sum equal to
the total amount of the revenues of the Kingdom,
and equivalent to about twenty-five or perhaps
thirty millions of dollars in the gold and silver
currency of the United States, if we make a proper
allowance for the comparative  difference in the
value of money in those days and in ours; and
it must also not be forgotten, in order to have
an accurate idea of the magnitude of that cost,
that salaries and wages of all sorts were then so
low, and materials for building, with articles of
food for the workmen, so very cheap, that the like
of it would be considered in our age as fabulous.
The Cortes of 1583 soon resumed, as it were, the
continuation of the labors of those who had adjourned
in 1582, for they petitioned on many of the same
subjects. They insisted particularly on reforms in
the administration of justice, and on the necessity
of remedying the evils resulting-from the delays of
judicial proceedings, in consequence of which suitors were so long kept out of their rights, and prisoners were indefinitely detained in prison before
judgment was given.  Among the administrative
measures which they recommended was the humane
one of having stores of corn in the chief town of
every district, to assist the poor among the peasantry
in the years of short crops, or in case of famine. It
is to be remarked of the Cortes of 1583, that, being
convinced at last of the inutility, if not the impropriety, of the existing law which repressed as much




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           277
as possible the use of coaches, they proposed that it
be made much less restrictive, because it was impossible to subdue, as they alleged, " the torrent of
fashion and the rage of imitation."  One of their
petitions gives but a sorry idea of the state of discipline which prevailed in the army at that epoch.
"The men of war and soldiers of this Kingdom,"
they said, "move together and in companies from
one place to another, and on their way they commit
such outrages, particularly in small towns and villages, that the inhabitants fly from them to the
mountains and to desert places, and prefer to abandon to their depredations their houses, with the furniture, goods and  supplies which  they contain,
rather than to expose their persons to insolence and
indescribable atrocities."  Whenever any of the
delinquents were seized by the civil authorities, the
military power interfered and set them free.  The
Cortes denounced  these  abominations, and proposed measures to put an end to their perpetration.*  Notwithstanding the former protestations
of that body, the Inquisition had not ceased to
arrest and judge persons for causes unconnected
with religion and the Catholic faith. The Cortes of
1583 addressed the King on this subject; they begged that this usurpation be checked, and that the
civil authorities be protected against it.t But they
had to put up with the same answer which he had
given to their predecessors.  It was: that his MIaj* Petition No. 39.  1j Petition No. 77,




278            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
esty "had ordered the contents of their petition to
be examined, so that what was proper might be
done."  This assembly also remonstrated against
the levying of illegal taxes-that eternal theme of
complaint from the representatives of the people.
The Royal reply was as usual: "We have been
compelled by our necessities, as our Cortes have
been more than once informed, to have recourse to
such ways and means, but we shall see what may be
done in the matter for the future." He received as
unfavorably another address concerning his continual sales of towns, villages, regiments and offices of
all sorts, and concerning his practice of enlarging,
on the payment of a sum of money, the jurisdiction
of certain magistracies. Out of eighty-four petitions
which the Cortes presented to Philip only twelve
were granted.  They related to subjects of no very
great importance, and yet he seems to have assented
to them  churlishly; for one, two and three years
elapsed before all the ordinances which he framed
accordingly were promulgated. It was as if Philip
had said: "I cannot decently refuse you all that
you ask for; hence I reluctantly throw before you
these few bones; make the most of my condescension." The Cortes appear to have felt it: for they
prayed the Sovereign to shorten their sessions, because their remaining so long assembled was a cause
of expense which their constituents, who had to pay
for their services, could hardly bear.* They would
t Acts of the Cortes of 1583 to 1585; printed in Madrid in 1587.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           279
probably have added, if they had dared, that they
were heartily tired of this semblance of freedom, of
their purposeless deliberations, of their contemned
remonstrances, of their shadowy projects of law, of
their stillborn plans of reform, of the vain parade of
their effete existence, and of this solemn farce of
popular representation.
In 1586, Philip again convened the Cortes in
Madrid for no other purpose, one would suppose
from his past treatment of that body, than to have
the pleasure to discard their petitions.  That assembly, however, made an attempt to rescue themselves
from  the nothingness to which they had been reduced.  They presented to the King an energetic
address, in which they said in substance: " We, the
Representatives sent to the Cortes, who have met according to your royal summons, have come as usual
with the desire to do all that your Majesty's service
may require, to perform with equal zeal the work
which the inhabitants of this realm and its subjects
expect of us, and to give satisfaction to their wants
in all matters of a general and particular nature. In
our conferences and deliberations we are determined to pray, with all the suitable propriety of form
and manner, for nothing which shall not be just and
necessary." After this preamble, they complained
that, in violation of an organic law to which they
specially called the attention of the King, no answer
was given to their petitions before they adjourned,
or if any was returned, that it was evasive, and that,




280             PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
if favorable and explicit, long delays intervened
before any action followed in conformity with its
tenor, in consequence of which the welfare of the
Commonwealth suffered not a little, and the people
no longer enjoyed the fruits which were formerly
obtained from  the institution of the Cortes.  "We
therefore supplicate your Majesty," they said, "that
all the provisions of the law which we have cited be
observed."  The King replied, in his habitual halfshuffling and half-contemptuous way, that henceforth
he would respond to their petitions " with as much
promptness as there would be occasion for." *  As
to the ordinances which he caused to be drawn
according to such of their views as he adopted, he
did not have them  promulgated before two years
had elapsed since their adjournment.t  This was
the manner in which he treated their remonstrances
about the dilatoriness of previous publications.
With the same firmness of tone and precision of
language they informed the King, that his subjects
felt at last "fatigued   under the increasing burden
of so many and so heavy taxes for the ordinary and
extraordinary service of the State, and that it was
impossible for them to pay such enormous contributions.  They desired  him  to keep in mind that
according to the Constitution of the Kingdom, no
tax could be laid and collected which had not been
* Que en adelante mandaria responder a las peticiones con la brevedad
que hubiere lugar.
f Lafuente. History of Spain, p. 435, vol. XIV.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.                281
previously voted  by  the Cortes.  They  told him
that this was emphatically the law, the most ancient
usage of the Kingdom, the practice observed by his
predecessors, and sanctioned by the "natural logic of
reason," and they begged that the people be relieved from such impositions on persons and property
as had been thus illegally decreed. To this request,
which, for years, had been  repeatedly made, the
King had but one stereotyped answer: * " That the
great necessities under which he had labored to provide for the protection of the Holy Catholic faith
and for the preservation and defence of the realm,
had been the cause of his having used some ways
and means to which it was impossible not to have
had recourse, but that he would take care to order that
this thing be looked into, and that the desired remedy be procured, whenever the aforesaid difficulties
should permit its application."  Those "necessities,"
and consequent violations of the law, lasted the
whole of Philip's reign.  The King's impassive perseverance in disregarding the protests of the Cortes
was equal to the pertinacity with which they were
sent. It was a long struggle of patience between
* Lafuente, History of Spain, p. 436, vol. XIV. La respuesta del rey
fue la de costumbre: " A esto vos respondemos que las grandes necesitades
a que nos habemos puesto por acudir a la defension de la Santa Fe Catolica, y conservacion y defensa de estos reinos, han sido causa de que se haya
usado de algunos medios y arbitrios sin haberse podido escusar, y tendremos cuidado de mandar se vaya mirando y procurando el remedio en cuanto
las diciha.n.ecesitades dieren lugar.




282            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
him  and that body-the patience of prayer on one
side, and the patience of denial on the other.
These Cortes fell again into the old inveterate
error of praying for the passage of sumptuarv laws.
It was one of those few subjects on which Philip was
pleased with their interference, and, on such occasions, he never failed in his answer to depart from
his usual laconism; for if it be true, as Motley maintains in his "History of the Rise of the Dutch Republic," that he was "the most tautological of writers," it must be confessed that, when it suited his
mood and purpose, he knew  how  to be brief and
precise. Be it as it may, he readily listened to the
application made by the Cortes for the repression
of extravagant habits of living, and, in compliance
with their expressed  desire, he promulgated an
ordinance specifying how men and women should
be dressed in his dominions. It will be recollected
that he had already prescribed what they should
eat.*  This pragmatic about the cut, make and
materials of habiliments is certainly a most curious
and quaint document, which is more worthy of a
tailor than of a powerful Monarch.  But these
minutia were precisely what Philip most affected.
He liked to be felt by his subjects in the humblest
details of life. He wanted them  to be automatons,
and he the regulator of all their movements.  In
many instances this meddling may have been well
* See p. 126 of this work.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.                283
meant, but it must have been far more insupportable
than his worst acts of oppression; for Macaulay says
with truth in his essay on Frederic the Great: "We
could  make shift to live under a debauchee, or a
tyrant; but to be ruled by a busy-body is more
than human nature can bear."  Spanish nature bore
it, however, not from servility, but from that chivalrous loyalty which generally made the Spaniards of
those days loth to question the King's authority.
Any tailor or dressmaker, violating any of the provisions of the ordinance we have mentioned, was to
be punished with exile for four years from the place
of his residence, and with a fine of twenty thousand
maravedis, to be divided in equal parts between the
King, the Judge and the denunciator.  Minute instructions were given to men, whatever was their
age, condition, quality, and the class they belonged
to, as to their garments in general, down to the sort
of shirt they  had to wear; and the ordinance even
forbade its being  starched, according  to  circumstances, under the penalty, in case of disobedience,
of forfeiting the shirt, with its ornaments, and of
paying a fine of thirty ducats.* A better ordinance
was the one which prohibited women from  wearing
* Y asimismo mandamos que ningun hombre, de cualquier clase, condicion, calidad y edad que sea, pueda traer ni traiga en los cwtellos, ni en
puinos, ni en lechuguillas, sueltos or asentados en la camisa, ni en otra parte,
guarnicion redes, ni deshilados, ni almidon, ni arroz, ni gomas, verguillas,
ni filetes de alumbre, oro, ni plata, ni alquimia, ni de otra cosa, ii, o sola
la lechuguilla de holanda or lienzo, con una 6 dos vainillas chicas, so pena
de perdicion de la camisa, cuello y punos y de treinta ducados, aplicado
segun dicho es..




284                PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
masks when  they went abroad.  It was a general
and mischievous usage.  Men* borrowed the female
apparel, and, in that disguise, committed, said the
Cortes, who  remonstrated  against this abuse, " all
manner of iniquities and sacrileges." According to
the same authority, "Fathers met their daughters,
husbands  their  wives, and  brothers their  sisters
without recognizing them, whereby there resulted
much offence to God and injury to the public." The
existence of such a custom certainly implied a very
singular state of society. If it was romantic, it cannot be denied that it tempted to immoralities, and
it was, therefore, the fit subject of a prosaic  police
regulation, for each infraction of which there was to
be paid a penalty of 3,000 maravedis. This sum,
equal to nine dollars in the currency of the United
States, or in  reality to  about thirty  or thirty-five
dollars, considering the relative value of money between that time and ours, was evidently not sufficient
to restrain women of rank, fashion and wealth from
continuing this evil practice on such occasions as
* Ha venido a tal estremo (said the Cortes) el uso de andar tapadas las
mugeres, que dello han resultado grandes ofensas de Dios y notable dano
de la repuiblica, a causa de que en aquella forma no conoce el padre a la
hija, ni el marido a la muger, ni el hermano a la hermana, y tiene la
libertad y tiempo y lugar a su voluntad, y dan occasion a que los hombres se atrevan a la hija 6 muger del mas principal como a la del mas
vil y bajo, lo que no seria si diesen lugar, yendo descubiertas 6 que la luz
dicirniere las unas de las otras, porque entonces cada una presumiera ser
y seria de todos diferentemente tratada y que se viesen diferentes obras
en las unas que en las otras, demas de lo cual se escusarian grandes
maldades y sacrilegios que los hombres vestidos como mugeres, y tapados
sin poder ser conocidos, han hecho y hacen.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.            285
they might deem  convenient.  For this reason, and
from the difficulty of enforcing such an ordinance
against persons of influence, it would be presumed,
if not known, that the custom  of wearing masks
was not entirely discontinued by a certain class,
until it was put down by the more powerful edict
of public opinion. The Cortes proposed also many
reforms in all the branches of the administration of
the Kingdom.  If we are to judge, by the contents
of their petitions on the subject, of the morality of
the officers of the Government, we must come to the
conclusion that it was at the lowest ebb.*
Philip, be it on account of the energetic and independent spirit with which he had been addressed by
these Cortes, or for some other cause, was more
liberal to them than he had been to the preceding
assemblies; for he granted them thirty-one out of
the seventy-one petitions which they presented to
him.   It is a singular feature of this singular reign,
that Philip kept the Cortes always in attendance on
his person, with but short interruptions; that each
session lasted between two and three years, and that,
during this prodigious length of time, about eighty
petitions, on an average, were elaborated, of which
more than three-fourths were invariably rejected, or
met with the usual answers which we have recorded.
It is evident that the Cortes were not overworked,
* Acts of the Cortes of Madrid from 1586 to 1588, published in that city
in 1590.
t Lafuente's History of Spain, p. 438, vol. 14.




286            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
and could not be much gratified at the results which
they obtained from their labors, such as they were.
Indeed, it is a puzzle to imagine how they could still
preserve the appearance of being at work, whilst
months followed after months in endless succession,
without their being prorogued.  What could they
be writing, talking, or deliberating about? It is not
astonishing, therefore, that they did earnestly pray
the King to shorten their sessions, which had become
so expensive for their constituents. To be assembled
a couple of years with no other object to be attained
than to have a score or two of petitions attended to,
and the few petitions that were thus favored being
generally such as were the least important, must
have discouraged the most zealous reformer who
ever sat in that body. When the Cortes could easily
have done in two or three months what it took them
as many years to accomplish, when they themselves
and the cities, towns and districts which sent them
and paid for their services united in the wish that
they be dismissed to their respective homes, when
Philip had predetermined hardly ever to acquiesce
in anything they proposed, it is difficult to understand why he thus prolonged their sessions. No
ostensible reason can be seen for it. Was it to disgust his subjects with popular representation by
giving them a surfeit of it, or making it so costly a
luxury? It remains one of the inexplicable features
of that mysterious policy which Philip loved to
pursue.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           287
The passion of the King for scribbling, his policy
or his natural inclination to go himself into all those
details of business which he ought to have left to
his ministers; his mania to read and correct, not
only the papers which issued from the severalDepartments of State, but also those which were received, and to fill them with interlines and underlines, with comments and marginal notes, were the
cause of great delays and embarrassments.  The
Cortes of 1588 applauded the excess of his zeal, but
represented to him that, if he did not assume to do
himself what should be left to others to perform,
and if he attended less to minutie, he would have
more time to devote to those general and large interests which were worthy of his attention, and that
the Kingdom would, in consequence of it, derive
more advantage from the wisdom  and many other
endowments of the royal mind.  Philip received
graciously this complimentary remonstrance, but
returned no other* answer than that " he would order
it to be looked into, and would have that done in the
premises which the good service of the Kingdom
might require."  The Cortes further represented that
his Majesty had instituted a certain number of
Councils, such as the Council of State, the Council
of War, the Council of the Treasury, the Council of
Grace and Justice, and others, which they thought
to be sufficient for the wants of the Government,
* Que mandaria mnirar y proveer en elo lo que conviniera al buen ser.
vicio del reino




288            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
without the creation of so many special Juntas or
Councils and special Tribunals, whose powers were
sure to conflict with the jurisdiction of the regular
and ordinary authorities, and that it produced confusion and many difficulties which greatly retarded
and perplexed the transaction of public business.
Their complaint was certainly well founded. The
curriculum of the State was already but too notoriously known as a slow coach. It was intolerable
to have poles thrust athwart its wheels further to
impede their sluggish rotation.  The Cortes prayed,
therefore, with much reason, that this evil be remedied.  Their master, however, turned as usual a
deaf ear to their supplications.
As their predecessors had done many a time,
they remonstrated against the inordinate duration
of their sessions.  They begged to be kept no
longer assembled than they used to be in the reigns
of their former Monarchs; they said that their procrastinated absence from home prevented their attending to their own private affairs, which, from
such neglect, went to wreck, and that their constituents were also ruined by being compelled to pay for
the expenses of such interminable assemblies. The
King replied that' he would dismiss them as soon
as possible."  So much for his word. But what did
he do?  He unmercifully detained them four years,
hanging on his skirts! Was it on pressing business?
No. For, what they did and was accepted by the
King was promulgated only a year after they had




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          289
been permitted to adjourn. If this was not intended
as a mockery, what else could it mean? It is no
wonder that Spanish patience has become proverbial.
We see that it was proof against all the trials which
Philip inflicted upon it, and it must be admitted that
he had ways of his own which would have exhausted
the endurance of a population of Jobs.
Philip, notwithstanding the remonstrances of his
subjects, had not ceased to tax them according to his
will and pleasure, without the concurrence of their
Representatives.  This evil became more difficult of
eradication in proportion as it struck deeper roots
into the soil. The Cortes of 1588 were aware of
this, and therefore addressed the Sovereign with
increased energy on the necessity of returning to the
scrupulous observance of one of the most important
of the organic laws of the State. Their language was
explicit and vigorous. They prayed him to remember all the complaints of their predecessors on the
same subject.  Making allowance for the "necessities " which he always alleged for his justification,
they no less bitterly deplored that he had no other
answers to give* than that "he would look into it
and would find a remedy," when that remedy never
came, and the abuse remained as full of life as before. They depicted in vivid colors the extreme
distress of the nation, and supplicated his Majesty
that the continuation of this illegal mode of taxation
be effectually and thoroughly stopped.t  The reply
* Que se fuese mirando y procurando el remedio. f Que el abuso cesara
de todo punto. Peticion, No. 9.           19




290            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
of the King was more bland than was his wont, but
it had lost none of its characteristic evasiveness. It
neither promised nor granted anything. The conciliatory mildness of his language was an opiate he
was willing to apply to a sore which he knew to
be really painful. It was an emollient with which
he intended to soothe, but not to cure. Nothing
ever was further from Philip's mind than to permit
the Cortes to hold the strings of the public purse.
When a State is diseased, and those to whose
care its health is committed are at a loss what to do
for the recovery of their patient, empirics present
themselves with all sorts of panaceas and nostrums,
and their number, solicitations and obtrusiveness
increase in proportion to the pressure of the necessities which they pretend to be able to relieve.
Such was the case when Spain was discovered to be
in the deplorable financial condition of which we
have given but a feeble sketch. Visionary projectors and crafty schemers pullulated at Court. The
Cortes complained of those charlatans, who, they
said, were molesting by their importunities the King
and his ministers; who succeeded in obtaining from
them long and repeated audiences; and who, if their
propositions were listened to, would finish devouring what remained of the substance of the Kingdom.*
They cautioned the King against lending too favorable an ear to the trumperies of those quacks who
* Peticion, No. 10.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          291
pretended to have made such wonderful discoveries
in the field of political economy. Among the numerous propositions offered to the Government,
there was one, however, which was favored by some
members of the Cortes. The author of it was a man
of some distinction for his erudition and literary
attainments. His name was Simon Abril. In an
address to the King he made this remark: "Having observed, in the course of my investigations,
prompted as they were by my zeal for the service
of your Majesty, that the pecuniary embarrassments
of the State have been produced by the wars of
Germanv and the Low Countries, which have been
undertaken against heretics and rebels in defence of
the Church and the Holy Catholic faith, I have
come to the conclusion that it is just to look to the
Church for the remedy."  He then suggested a
mode of taxing the Clergy during twenty years,
by which a sufficient sum would be obtained, during
that lapse of time, to extricate the national treasury
out of its difficulties, without any real detriment to
any particular individual.  It appears that this
project had been first presented by Simon Abril to
the Council of Finance, who treated it lightly, like
many other plans of notorious extravagance. Repulsed in that quarter, Abril applied to the King,
and in a communication to his Majesty said, with
much pathos, "I know* that there will be no lack
* Archivo de Simancas, Est. Leg. 163. Yo se que no han de faltar
gentes que este mi trabajo y estudio que yo e puesto en servicio de V. M.




292              PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
of people who will find fault with the conceptions
which I have placed at the service of your Majesty,
and who will endeavor to discredit them.  Therefore, I supplicate your Majesty, by the entrails of
Jesus Christ crucified, to hear all, but to decide for
yourself, and to notice that, in the whole commonwealth, there is not a. body of men on whom hands
may be laid, in such pressing circumstances, with so
much justice and less prejudice.  Your Majesty will
also take into consideration how tired the people are
of paying so much annually to the Clergy, etc." This
Simon Abril must have been a bold man, indeed,
and it is to be wondered at that the Inquisition did
not devise some means to get hold of him.  ITis
suggestions were not, of course, of such a nature as
to be acceptable to Philip. Near two centuries and
a half were to elapse before the overgrown and unnatural prerogatives of the Clergy could be successfully attacked, and before their colossal acquisitions
in lands, churches, seminaries, convents, monasteries and other sorts of property were to be thoroughly subverted.
Although the Clergy were exempt from taxation,
yet they had voluntarily granted, for many years
past, an annual subsidy, of 420,000 ducats, for the
object of building, arming and keeping up sixty galleys in the Mediterranean to check the depredations
lo disacrediten, 6 a lo menos traten de disacreditable; y asi suplico a
V. M. por los entranas de Jesu Christo crucificado que oyga 6 todos, y
mas a si mismo, y considere que en toda la masa de la repiblica no hay
parte de que tan sin perjuicio y con tanta justicia se pueda echar mano
para un negocio tan urgente; y mire quand fatigado esta, &.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          293
of the Moslem  Corsairs, but this sum had since
been gradually diverted to other purposes.  The
galleys had rotted away, or were remaining idle
and neglected in several ports from the want of
crews and many other things, which, of course,
could not be had without pay. The consequence
had been that the turbaned rovers had been emboldened to land frequently on the coasts of Spain, and
to spread far and wide the desolation which we have
before mentioned.*  The Cortes begged that this
annual subsidy of 420,000 ducats be applied to its
original destination.t  The manufacturing of powder had become an exclusive privilege. The natural
result ensued-the powder was execrable.  The
Cortes very judiciously remonstrated against the
continuation of such a policy. They also reproduced
a petition which had been already presented to the
Crown in 1548. In its style and sentiments it shows
in a striking light what may be called the local color.
No wine ever tasted more strongly of the soil by
which it is produced. It is characteristic of Spain
and of the epoch.  " Our predecessors," they said,
" supplicated your Majesty not to permit the introduction into these Kingdoms of baubles, glassware,
dolls, fancy knives and other knick-knacks which
came from abroad. These articles are unnecessary
to the support of human life, and yet we exchange
gold for them just as if we were Indians. If, because they were obtained for little money, this evil
* See p. 126, chap. IV. of this volume.  t Petition, No 11.




294           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
was, at that time, of a limited nature, now a great
amount of pure gold  and silver is extracted from
these Kingdoms for manufactured articles of these
metals, containing however much alloy, which come
from France, and consist in chains, tinsel ornaments,
brass and gold wires, rosaries, false stones, colored
glassware and other trinkets, which are sold at first
for large sums on account of their novelty, and
which, in the end, the vendors themselves show to'
be of no value by parting with them at very low
prices. Next comes another invention and novelty
which they sell again very high. Thus there is
nothing but buying, and wasting an infinite quantity
of money, as long as life is in the body. Nothing ot
any value is got for it in return. All these things
turn out to be worthless at last, whilst in the meantime the gold and silver which had been acquired
with so much labor, and which had been procured
from the Indies and the remotest parts of the world,
are carried away from these Kingdoms." They therefore supplicated His Majesty to prohibit the introduction of those articles and the selling of them by
any French or other foreign pedlers, in any manner
whatever, "because among such traders who traveled over the whole country under the pretext of
trafficking in pins, combs and rosaries, there were
many spies, and because those foreigners took all
the gains and profits out of the hands of the natives."
This petition, founded on false and contracted notions
of political economy, was of the nature of those




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.             295
which Philip always received favorably. Hence he
did not fail to gratify the Cortes on this occasion
with ready and ample compliance. The importation
and sale of the described articles was forbidden,
under the penalty of confiscation and of paying
besides as much as they were estimated to be
worth.*
The last session of the Cortes in the reign of
Philip began in 1593, one year after the adjournment of those who assembled in 1588. One of their
first acts was to complain that many laws of the
realm, although useful and necessary, had fallen
into desuetude, or were set aside, or not executed,
" much to the discredit of the law and lawgivers."
They remarked with too much truth that this was a
chronic infirmity in Spain.t They prayed that the
majesty of existing laws be vindicated, and that stability and vigor be secured to the enactments of
future legislation. To this the King assented. They
prayed that the tax called " Cruzada,"I and the tax
known as the " Subsidio y escusado," which was one
levied on the Clergy by virtue of a bull of the Holy
See, be invariably employed in keeping up the armies and fleets which were destined for the defence
of the realm and the Catholic faith, and that they
be not diverted to other purposes; that the comp* General proceedings of the Cortes of Madrid, who met in 1588. Printed in 1593.
t Lafuente's History of Spain, p. 444, vol. XIV.
t It was a tax which,by a special grant of the Pope, was paid to the King:
of Spain by his subjects for permission to eat eggs and cheese in Lent.




296            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
trollers of the exchequer be instructed not to violate the privileges and franchises of the people; that
the faculty granted by former Cortes to equip privateers for the guard and defence of the coasts be
permitted to have its full effects; that the Clergy
be prevented from acquiring lands and tenements in
mortmain, in accordance with the wish expressed
an infinite number of times," by the Cortes.  As
to this last request, so often reproduced, * Philip
went on answering, until the grave closed over him,
" that he would look into it, and do what would be
expedient in the matter."  Another object of complaint on their part was, that the peasantry were not
paid for the sacrifices they had made to furnish provisions and supplies of all sorts to the armies of His
Majesty.  They represented that, in order to fulfill
this patriotic duty, estates had been sold, or debts
incurred, and that many persons were ruined in
consequence of it. They insisted on the necessity
of indemnifying promptly those who had thus suffered
for the service of the Commonwealth.  They also
desired some reforms concerning the Alcabalas,t with
a view to having them more justly established and less
oppressive for certain classes.  These Cortes further
suggested  many ameliorations in relation to the
judiciary and to the system of political economy
then prevailing in Spain. All their petitions, even
those which were short-sighted and erroneous in
* Lafuente's History of Spain, p. 444, vol. XIV., Alcabalas are duties levied on all sales.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.        297
principle, show that they were animated with an
earnest and sincere desire to improve the condition
of their country.  But Philip was impervious to
their suggestions.
We have said before, we believe, that, with the
accession of the Austrian dynasty, there had begun
a struggle between the liberties and franchises which
were the natural growth of Spain, on one side, and
the absolutism which had been imported from Germany, on the other.  One of the adversaries had
finally triumphed in the fields of Villalar and in the
streets of Saragoza. The Cortes were the embodiment of the popular element, and Philip, during his
long reign, pursued with indefatigable pertinacity
the ancestral policy of rooting out what was to his
race a'traditional subject of terror and hatred. He
had but too well succeeded, as we have demonstrated. The Cortes had been stripped of the robust
power which they had formerly possessed. They
could no longer make laws, or refuse their assent to
anything the Crown desired. All that which they
were permitted to do was to present plans and projects, accompanied by humble prayers for their
adoption, and we have seen the way in which those
prayers were received. They had, however, continued for a long time to claim as their prescriptive
privilege, that the Crown should not legislate without
their concurrence.  But, gradually debased and
humiliated, they had lost so much of their antique
spirit as tacitly to concede to the King the right to




298            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
frame laws, decrees, or ordinances, without consulting them.  They now contented themselves with
begging that his Majesty be graciously pleased not
to promulgate any law, or publish any edict, whilst
they were in session, before ascertaining if they had
any observation to address to him on the subject,
any modification to propose, or objection to point
out, "because," they said, "the Representatives of
the people were bound to know  better than the
King and his ministers the condition of the country
at large, and the peculiar necessities of each province." They finally concluded with this phrase,
which was tantamount to signing with their own
hands the death warrant of their political existence:
"His Majesty's Council* will, nevertheless, retain
the same faculty which they had before, to do what
they please, notwithstanding what they may hear
from the Cortes." This declaration, of course, consigned that formerly august and energetic body to
the tomb of the Capulets. Then Philip probably
felt that his work was accomplished, and turned his
mind, with the gloomy satisfaction peculiar to his
temperament and to his family, to the contemplation
of his own sepulchre in the Escorial, convinced, as he
was, that he would leave his feeble successor in the
undisturbed possession of the most despotic power
in Christendom, and that he had, with the pneumatic
engines he had so skillfully contrived, pumped out
* Que al consejo le quedaba la misma facultad, habiendo oido al reino,
para hacer, sin embargo, lo que tuviera por mas conveniente




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           299
of his subjects their hereditary love of liberty, and
that fierce spirit of independence which had so long
checkmated the encroachments of their Monarchs.
He in fact died shortly after. But comprehensive,
humble and abdicative as had been the concession
of the Cortes, it failed to conciliate the haughty
despot, whose pride seems to have been intensified
by his triumph.  His reply to what we shall call
the piteous groan of his prostrate Cortes was: " It
is not proper* to make any innovation in this matter, because when our Council deems anything expedient, it is done. On such suitable occasions as
may offer, what the Cortes desire will be considered."
It is consolatory to think that, neither in the Spain
of the present day, nor in any other country where
a representative government is established, such
imperial insolence would be tolerated.
Philip, Count of Flanders, who married that unfortunate daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, the
mad Queen Juana, was the representative of the
rights and pretensions of the House of Burgundy.
Until the death of Charles the Bold, with whom had
expired the male line of that princely race, the
Court of Burgundy had been one of the most magnificent in Europe. The household of those wealthy
Sovereigns was established on the most extensive
and gorgeous scale of feudal pomp and pride. The
* Que no es bien que se haga en ello novedad, porque cuando el consejo
ve que conviene, se hace, y en las occasiones que se offrecieren se mirarA lo que convenga.




300           PHILLIP II. OF SPAIN.
menial offices, or at least offices with menial appellations, were filled by the highest nobles, and the
etiquette which surrounded the Prince was a barrier
between him and even his magnates.  It seemed
intended to make the distance between them still
greater and more impressive. Under the auspices
of the Count of Flanders and afterwards of his son,
the Emperor Charles V., the Royal household of
Spain had been transformed and organized after the
fashion which had prevailed in Burgundy, much to
the mortification of the Spaniards. The Cortes had
more than once remonstrated against this innovation.
In Spain the King had been but the first gentleman
of the Kingdom. He was the head of the nobility,
but not a master to be approached with servility.
The Grandees were his peers, although he was
armed with greater power and his person more
sacred, and they kept their hats on their heads in
his presence. Some degree of familiarity was not
excluded. The haughtiness and ceremonial of the
Court of Burgundy had been, therefore, a distasteful
importation.  Philip was again addressed on that
subject by the Cortes who had assembled in 1593,
and who availed themselves of the opportunity offered by the marriage of his daughter Isabel Clara
Eugenia with the Archduke Albert, to whom he had
ceded Flanders in  consideration  of that union.
"The Court of Castile," they said, "should no longer
be kept in the style of Burgundy, when Castile no
longer retains any of the provinces which belonged




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           301
to that Principality."   For these reasons they
begged the King to reform  his household and to
return to the old forms and usages to which they
had been accustomed, and which were distinguished
for greater simplicity.  This was rational and natural.  The King's answer was abrupt and dry: " We
have considered about it, and we shall continue to
consider."
The Cortes of 1593 remained in session until 1598,
when the King died.  A  session of five years, to
frame ninety-one petitions, out of which only twentyone were granted!  They must have been highly
disgusted with this dreary waste of time, and heartily ashamed of their nothingness and impotency.
What did Philip mean by having this useless and
cumbersome appendage about his person, unless as
a body-guard of political eunuchs in imitation of the
mutilated attendants kept up by those  Eastern
Monarchs whose despotism  he had emulated to exercise? Nothing, we think, gives a better idea of
Philip's character than his deportment toward the
Cortes. There was certainly no revolutionary tendency in that body.  Their antique fidelity, their
chivalrous loyalty, their devotion to himself personally, their traditional conservatism, could not be the
object of a doubt, and yet he stood before them as
grim and forbidding as the pillars of LHercules beyond which they were not to pass, and he assumed
* Lo hemos visto, y se ira mirando en ello. General acts of the Cortes
from 1592 to 1598, promulgated and printed in Valladolid, in 1604.




302          PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
to be the champion of an immobility which they
were not to disturb. He was constitutionally and
systematically opposed to progress of any kind, and
he wanted them to feel that, if he permitted the
slightest movement onward, the impulse was not to
come from any other source than himself. Hence
his fixed answer: " No innovation," whenever they
ventured to propose any reform of any importance.
We cannot but fancy that, if Philip had been gifted
with omnipotence, he would have delighted in creating a world without motion. Creeping things might,
perhaps, have been tolerated, but the wind would
certainly have been excluded, and he would have
said to the ocean: "Peace, be still."




CHAPTER IX.
WE shall now take a brief review of the intellectual condition of Spain under Philip II, and
ascertain how far the arts, the sciences and literature were entitled to him for the state in which they
were during his long reign. The better to fulfill this
task, we must go back to the accession of Isabella
to the throne of Castile, for it is impossible to appreciate correctly the intellectual and moral condition of a nation at any fixed period of its existence,
without connecting it with the history of the fifty or
eighty years, if not more, which preceded it, as
the extent, copiousness and capacity of a stream
are better known by tracing it up to its source, or
at least ascending it to some distance, than by such
a limited survey as the eye of the beholder can embrace from the point where he stands. The thoughts
of man are not self-created; they have their spiritual ancestry; they are of high or base lineage; and
their genealogy, more than any, is entitled to an immortal record. There are epochs when events after
events, of an incalculable magnitude, succeed each
other in a particular country, which seems then to have
been specially chosen by Providence for their development; and they shoot into future ages an influence
which is to be felt by unborn generations. Those
(303)




304            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
events come like a Promethean band of giants with
torches of sacred fire in their hands, not stolen from
but committed to them by Heaven, to light up, as
thev stalk onward through the long avenue of the
human race, those lamps which nature has placed
there, awaiting the igniting touch which the course
of time is sure to bring. On such occasions, the
intellectual fluid  darts along those invisible and
mysterious wires which bind nations together with
sympathetic ties.  By the rapidity of its motion it is
heated into flame, and a glorious illumination bursts
upon the embellished world.  The reign of Ferdinand and Isabella in Spain is one of those epochs.
The Monarchy which the Goths had established
in that country had been driven into the cave of
Covodonga by the invasion of the Arabs.  The foot
of the followers of Mahomet was planted on the
Cross from the Pyrenees to the two seas which bathe
the rocky shores of the Iberian Peininsula.  The
natives, in the extremity of their disasters, which
were such as had seldom visited any community,
did not despair of their religion and of their country.  They came out of the bowels of the earth to
fight, until they vwrested a portion of the surface of
their territory from the grasp of the invaders, and
gradually erected petty Kingdoms within frontiers
defended by art or by nature, and frequently by
both.  These petty kingdoms fought against each
other; they also fought against the Arabs, and
against the Moors, the less polished successors of




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          305
the Arabs.  The races which Africa and Asia had
sent to Spain shortly subdivided, like their enemies,
into small principalities, and struggled against each
other without ceasing their hostilities against the
Spaniards. Interminable wars followed-the Christian holding the Infidel by the throat, and only
relaxing his deadly efforts for a hostile spring upon
his fellow-Christian-the Infidel still hunting incessantly the " Christian dog" with the same undying
combination of fanatical contempt and hatred, and
only turning from the pursuit to shed Moslem blood
with all the merciless fury of sectarian zeal, with
the lust of ambition contending for power, and with
the insatiable spirit of vengeance entertained by
tribe against tribe from  the traditional memory
of real or fancied wrongs. The heart grows faint,
and the head swims with a dizzy sensation, when
one looks back at that ocean of blood, whose tumultuous waves yet send the distant echo of their dismal
surge reverberating to our ears through the empty
halls and porticoes of those centuries which, like imperishable monuments of the past, loom up before us
in the hoary twilight which they borrow from time.
One wonders how the ordinary avocations which
are indispensable to the support of life could have
been pursued amidst those eternal massacres; and
yet there is a wonderful fascination in those scenes 
for not only did the peasant run his plow and till the
soil; but even the poet sang, the musician tuned his
lyre, the arts bloomed with profuse luxuriance in
20




306           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
the lap of danger, and ripened into productions
which have hardly been excelled; the sciences progressed, although with halting steps; and chivalry,
elevating purified love and honor to the level of religion, placed them on the same altar, and descended into the arena with its gorgeous panoply, to
defend these three united objects of its worship.
The ruthlessness, however, of continued devastations becomes too oppressive to behold, and one
would soon turn away in disgust from the appalling
sight, if not allured and consoled, amidst those horrors, by frequent glimpses of the better nature of
man transfiguring itself into an angel of light. We
see deeds so noble that they make us forget aught
else; we hear sentiments which throw a celestial
glow into our soul; we feel subdued by an irresistible sympathy, and we readily grant the honors of
an apotheosis to transcendant virtues, which we
accept as a compensation for so much baseness and
so many atrocities. It was an Iliad of eight hundred years, or rather a myriad of epic poems surpassing each other in the ever diversified magnificence of their poetical details, such as the genius of
Homer himself could not have conceived, and
teeming with traits of heroism  and magnanimity
which, in their historical realities, appeal more
intensely to the imagination and touch the heart
more deeply, than the fabulous exploits of the invulnerable Achilles. At last, the Moslems recede before the advancing step of the soldiers of the Cross,




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          307
and their possessions are almost confined to the
territorial paradise of Granada. The small Christian Kingdoms are fused either into Castile, or
Aragon, with the exception of Navarre, which,
however, was soon to lose its independence and individual existence.  Castile and Aragon remain,
bestriding the battle- field and confronting each
other like Ajax and Hector, with rival prowess
and mutual admiration, whilst the scales of fate
hang over them in suspense. Fortunately, instead
of engaging in mortal combat, they embrace in a
holy union by the marriage of Ferdinand and Isabella. Worldly wisdom in Ferdinand extends the
hand of love and protection to genius in Isabella,
combined with evangelical piety, and an inflexible
rectitude of judgment and purpose.
Providence seems to have been preparing the
way for that unity of government which Spain was
destined soon to possess. The dynasties which had originally occupied the thrones of Navarre and Aragon
had been struck with sterility; they had become
extinct, and the sceptres of these two Kingdoms had
passed into the hands of members of the Royal Family
of Castile. The House of Trastamara therefore ruled
the whole of the Peninsula with the exception of Portugal. It was a step in the right direction, although
it was not yet visible how it would lead to the desired goal. There was little probability that Ferdinand, at the time he was born, would ever be
King of Aragon. There was as little probability,




308          PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
at Isabella's birth, that she was destined to be
Queen of Castile, and yet, contrary to all expectations, the brow of each was encircled with the crown
which seemed forbidden to their hopes. The glittering prize was secured to them by the commission
of crimes in which they had no share, and, as it
were through divine mercy, individual wickedness
was made instrumental in working out the general
good. There appeared also to be insurmountable
obstacles to their marriage, and yet those obstacles
were overcome.  On the other hand, there were ten
chances to one that the Sovereigns of two rival and
contiguous Kingdoms would quarrel in the exercise
of their respective prerogatives.  As husband and
wife, whom so many temptations surrounded, it was
at least an even chance that the course of their
wedded life would not run smooth. But they happened to be so wonderfully fitted for each other,
that, both in their conjugal and political relations,
the utmost harmony prevailed until death put an
end to their union. Thus unity existed in duality,
which was the more extraordinary, because that
duality was composed of two Sovereigns armed with
independent power.  Providence had certain designs, and we shall see what a concatenation of
circumstances brought on their final accomplishment. One of those preliminary designs was that
Spain should become powerful, because it was necessary that it should be so for reasons which will




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           309
soon be discovered.  The tool was to be shaped to
suit the purpose for which it was to be used.
The Kingdom of Aragon had been impoverished
by the foreign and the civil wars in which her two
last Sovereigns had been engaged.  One of them,
Alfonso the Fifth, had conquered, it is true, the
Kingdom  of Naples, and had filled the world with
the fame of his exploits  But, by a wise dispensation, military glory, which is. so enticing, has its
drawbacks, and the Cortes had said to Alfonso:
" Sire, this war, of which we have not yet seen the
end, has so depopulated your hereditary dominions,
that the fields remain uncultivated, and we have
been compelled to pay four hundred thousand florins for the ransom  alone of prisoners.  Industry
and, commerce are paralyzed. We see no other
remedy to those evils than the presence of our
King." Seduced however by the meretricious charms
of his Italian conquest, which he preferred to the
rough loyalty of his Aragonese subjects, he lingered
in Naples until his death. Instead of governing
from Aragon, his acquired domain, says Lafuente of
that Monarch, in his History of Spain, it was from
that foreign soil that he governed Aragon. He left
his Kingdom of Naples to his bastard son, Don Fernando, and his Spanish dominions to his brother
John, King of Navarre. Under this new Monarch,
turbulent, self-willed and pugnacious as he was,
whom  his subjects surnamed the Great, and the




310           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
Hercules of Aragon, and who retained to the age of
eighty-two all the fire and ambition and almost the
bodily strength of which he had given so many
proofs in his long career, the Aragonese had not the
opportunity to recover from their exhaustion. That
exhaustion was such that when John, at the end of
his reign, wished to march to the defence of his
town of Perpignan in the province of Roussillon,
which Louis XI. of France was threatening, he had
to borrow money from one of his Barons and to sell
his mantle of ermine. When he died shortly after,
he was so poor, that, to provide for the expenses
of his funeral and the support of those who belonged
to his household, it was necessary to sell all the
articles of gold and silver which were found in his
wardrobe, and to procure ten thousand florins on
pledging his jewels and even his decoration of the
Golden Fleece. It may be consolatory to those who
are suffering from pecuniary distress to know, that
he, of whom we write, and who was in the sore predicament which we have described, wore seven
crowns-those of Navarre, Aragon, Catalonia, Valencia, Mallorca, Sardinia and Sicily. A wise administrator and a prudent sovereign was clearly
required, or Aragon could not have been in a condition to join, a little later, in the accomplishment of
those great achievements which were still in the
womb of the future. That administrator and that
King providentially came forth in the person of the




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           311
astute, thrifty and politic Ferdinand, the husband of
Isabella.
Although the condition of Aragon was not prosperous, yet it was enviable, if compared with that
of Castile. When Henry IV., the imbecile predecessor of Isabella, closed his worthless existence,
that Kingdom was in such a state of anarchy as
almost to amount to a complete dissolution of civilized society. It is hardly possible to express in
adequate terms the degradation of the throne, the
annihilation of all the resources of the common
wealth, the helpless beggary and personal infamy
of the Monarch, the insolence and peculations of his
favorites, the arrogance and excesses of the nobles,
the poverty and  demoralization of the inferior
classes, the temerity and ferocity of organized bands
of depredators, who openly destroyed life and property, the extent and depth of public immorality,
and the furious outbreaks of the worst passions,
which swept over the land like hurricanes of evils.
Few there were who did not live in open violation
of the whole decalogue, if full faith is to be given to
the chronicles of that age. The Castilians seemed to
be a nation of malefactors, although deep in that bed
of corruption there lay the seeds of the noblest virtues and of the most dazzling qualities of the head
and heart, as will subsequently appear. The castles
of the magnates were like caverns of robbers; travellers were pillaged and murdered on the high roads,




312            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
and the fruits of such rapines were exposed for sale
without concealment on the public squares of the
most populous cities.*  The officers of the Crown
were regardless of the authority which had commissioned them, and were no better than licensed
plunderers.  The dissoluteness of the Clergy of both
sexes was truly frightful.  An Archbishop was
driven away from  his Episcopal See by a popular
tumult, for having attempted to do violence to a
youthful bride who, before the sacred altars of religion and in his presence, had just pledged her love
and fidelity to the husband of her choice.  Another
Archbishop led an army against his King, whose
crown he wished to transfer to that King's brother.
That haughty and turbulent prelate, at the head of
ambitious nobles followed by their vassals, erected
in the field of Avila a platform on which he placed
the effigy of the monarch decorated with all the royal
insignia.  Then the sceptre was wrested from the
inanimate hands which held it, the diadem was torn
from the brow, the mantle from the shoulders, and
the sword from the belt.  All this was done amidst
the acclamations of the multitude who witnessed the
burlesque and extravagant ceremony. At last, the
rebellious priest himself stamped his foot on the
breast of the prostrated image of his master, whom
he proclaimed to be no longer the anointed of the
Lord. Castile had reached that state of putrefaction
when a nation must be either regenerated by the
* Lafuente's History of Spain, Introduction, vol. I, p. 102.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         313
sword of a foreign conqueror and the infusion of new
blood into its veins, or be saved from  perishing in
the tumultuous chaos of its own creation by the intervention of a native genius, such as Heaven sometimes vouchsafes to earth, to ride the whirlwind and
substitute order to confusion.  That genius was
wanted to operate the resurrection of Castile, and
that genius came. It came in the person of Isabella
-a woman, so radiant with purity and piety, so
free from most of our human imperfections, that she
seemed an inspired being, a missionary from above.
She said:  Lazarus, come forth, and Lazarus arose
from the dead."
Hardly had that illustrious personage ascended
the throne, when the scene changed as if under the
wand of a magician. A Portuguese army which had
penetrated into Castile is driven back in shame and
confusion. The French abandon the province of
Guipuzcoa, which they had invaded, and the wily
Louis XI. is compelled to submit to a peace advantageous to Castile.  Evil doers, high or low,
poor or rich, are chastised with an impartial hand;
the receptacles of crime are swept away, the turbulent prelates sue to be reconciled with the Royal
authority which they were in the habit of contemning, the haughty magnates are humbled and curbed,
the rebel chiefs implore their pardon, the roads and
by-ways are freed from robbers, and the shops teem
with merchandise; artisans, peasants and all laborers
peacefully pursue their avocations, agriculture flour



314           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
ishes, commerce is encouraged and fills the Kingdom
with hitherto unknown wealth, the tribunals of justice are almost as pure as in the fabulous days of
Themis, the Cortes legislate in perfect freedom, the
revenues of the State are re-established, the empty
treasury is replenished, the Crown is radiant with
renewed splendor, and its mandates are equally
respected in the battlemented mansion, in the modest
hut, in the cave of the hermit and in the palace of
the Cardinal. The nobles serve their Queen on
bended knees with the loyalty of faithful subjects
and the high-souled devotion of knights of romance.
The commons, prostrated before her with filial reverence and enthusiastic gratitude, worship her like a
divinity.  Well did she deserve such adoration.
The social body had been a corpse; she made it a
thing of life and action, and reanimated its inert
limbs with Herculean strength. She had reconstituted into a compact and vigorous nation one which,
but lately, had been a jumble of jarring elements.
She found the Royal mantle dragging in the mud,
and torn into rags by the hand of discord; she
transformed it into a vesture of glory. Under her
miraculous influence a corrupt people had suddenly
become a moral one.*  With prodigious activity
and perseverance she had made true the improbable.
She had purged the diseased land of its infirmities
and restored to it health, vigor, and youth. She had
* Lafuente's History of Spain. See Introduction, vol. I, p. 122.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          315
organized tribunals and presided over them. She
had caused the laws to be compiled and arranged
into digests. Like St. Louis, she had administered
justice herself on more than one occasion. She had
overthrown the fortresses of the oppressors, and
penetrated into the humblest dwelling to invite
shrinking merit to her Court. She had given daily
proofs of the most exalted virtue as a Sovereign, a
wife and a mother. She had abashed vice, checked
immoral habits, and  sobered extravagance, not
merely by her decrees, but also by her example.
That example had been the best of all sumptuary
laws. The emanations of her piety and purity had
pervaded the social atmosphere and subdued the
deleterious miasma with which it was loaded. From
the temple where she prayed like a saint, she passed
to the battle-field like the goddess of war.  The
same hand which erected and decorated altars held
the reins of the fiery steed who, with distended
nostrils and eyes of lightning, swept along the serried ranks of armed battalions. She was, at the
same time, the watchful mother of cloistered virgins
and of grim-visaged warriors. Where there was a
want, there was her ministering care. She built
sanctuaries, and took fortresses; she organized armies, and established schools and universities. She
reformed the Clergy, restored its ancient discipline,
and made them worthy of the consideration which
she bestowed upon them. Well did she know how
to honor them after having made them honorable.




316           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
As a woman and a Christian she bowed meekly before the Holy See, but, as a Sovereign, she was inflexible in resisting the systematic course of Papal
invasions and usurpations.  Whilst under her keeping, the rights of the Crown of Castile never gave
way to the unfounded ones claimed by the Tiara of
Rome. She presided over Cortes and tournaments
with the same serene majesty; she superintended
the education of the people with as much care as the
education of her children; she wielded the sceptre
and she plyed the needle with equal diligence and
skill. Amidst all her overwhelming occupations,
and, although she not unfrequently passed whole
nights in dictating long dispatches to her secretaries,
she found leisure to be a student, and she even
learned Latin. She patronized the arts, the sciences
and literature with judicious love. She governed
Kingdoms in Europe and America with conscientious
zeal and scrupulous attention, whilst she did not neglect any of the minute details of the administration
of her household. She gave daily some hours to her
private devotions, but, in looking up to Heaven, she
did not forget the interests which had been intrusted
to her on earth. Without the transformation which
was due to Isabella, much less than Aragon would
Castile have been able to perform the part which
she was called upon to act, and, therefore, according
to the decrees of Providence, that transformation
took place at the right moment. The finger of fate
had marked on the horologe of time the hour for the




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           317
final triumph of Christianity in Spain, for the destruction of what remained there of Moslem domination, and for a unity of government under the not
distant reign of Charles V. That hour had struck,
and the agents of Divine will had appeared in Ferdinand and Isabella. Under their guidance, Castile
and Aragon, linked together by religious faith and
conjugal love, well trained and provided for the intended crusade, were ready to march against the
last stronghold of the infidels, and to substitute the
Cross for the Crescent on the summit of the Alhambra. It had been a wooden cross in the hand of
Pelagio, when, issuing from the cave of Covodonga,
he began the struggle which was to last eight
hundred years.  It was of gold, when, under Ferdinand and Isabella, it gleanled resplendent on the
towers of Granada.
If the human mind must necessarily become polished, if it must teem with fertility and glow with
inspiration, when it is made familiar with the sublime pages of Homer, Virgil and Tasso, and when it
is capable of appreciating and assimilating such ambrosial food, what must be the impulse given to its
imagination and other faculties of the brain, when,
instead of reading, a nation acts epic poems which.
in interest and sentiment, in the nature of the subject and in all the attributes of poetry, certainly
equal, if they do not surpass, the gorgeous conceptions of the bards we have named? Hence the age
of Ferdinand and Isabella was an age of mental de



318            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
velopment, because the intellect and soul of man
were on the stretch to rise up to the grandeur of
everything he heard and saw.  The war of Granada,
like the Trojan, was an epopee of ten years from the
fall of Alhama to the fall of the capital of Boabdil,
but its episodes were more brilliant and varied, and
its consequences far greater.  "It is remarkable,"
says Prescott, in a note to the History of Ferdinand
and Isabella,* "that the war of Granada, which is
admirably suited in all its circumstances to poetical
purposes, should not have been more frequently
commemorated by the epic muse."  But the immortal historian himself answered, we think, his own
remark, although he did not seem conscious of having given that answer, when he said, a few lines
after: "Mr. Irving's late publication, the'Chronicle
of the Conquest of Granada,' has superseded all
further necessity for poetry, and, unfortunately for
me, for history." This is precisely the reason why
the epic muse has been silent on the subject. It is
because Poetry feels that she is superseded by History, and that the picture which is before her is so
illuminated with innate brilliancy, that the most
dramatic gorgeousness of coloring which fancy could
supply and art could use, would, if applied to it,
look like those uncalled-for ornaments which rather
shade than set off the attractions of a woman whom
nature has made exquisitely beautiful.  Hence the
* Prescott's History of Ferdinand and Isabella, p. 109, vol. II.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           319
war of Granada has remained the almost exclusive
domain of history-a domain which, inviting as it
is, has seldom been approached by the poet, or invaded by the bold step of the novel-writer.  It
would have been as if Titian had attempted to add
more vivid hues to the rainbow. Therefore all those
who, be it in verse or in prose, have endeavored to
do more than give, like Washington Irving, "a poetical aspect to historical accuracy," have miserably
failed, and produced but vapid compositions. If the
records of that mighty struggle delight posterity, its
stirring incidents, at the time of its existence, absorbed the attention of Europe, because its successful
issue was to be an event of the utmost importance
to her, as well as to Spain. It was not merely the
triumph of a nation resuming its complete entity,
recovering its usurped territory, and wiping off the
never-to-be-forgotten affront of subjugation. It was
the triumph of civilization over barbarism, of a superior religion over an inferior one, of the sanctity
of European marriage over the looseness of Eastern
polygamy, of chastity over lust, of persuasion over
dictation, of freedom over slavery. For Christianitv recommends that proselytism  shall come from
the inspired lips, and not from the strong hand. Its
mission is to operate conversions with the tongue of
fire. and not with the flashing scimitar.  It raises
woman to angelical purity, and Islamism  degrades
her to beastly sensuality.  "It breaks,' says Lafuente, "whilst Islamism rivets, the chains of man."




320           PHILLIP II. OF SPAIN.
For these reasons the whole of Christendom rejoiced
at the fall of Granada; but there was one other
cause for gratulation which was fully appreciated by
Europe. She had not been able to prevent Constantinople from passing, not long before, into the
possession of the Infidels, and it was now with undisguised terror that she saw herself threatened
from that advanced post by the formidable force of
the recently established Ottoman Empire. It was
a consolation and an encouragement to her, when
she heard of the end of the Moslem domination in
Spain. It invigorated the hope of resistance to the
new colossus, and added to the resources of attack
or defence. If the Crescent had risen to its meridian on the banks of the Bosphorus, it had set forever on the plains of Granada and in the mountainpass which had echoed the " last sigh " of the Moor.
If Christianity wept in the Orient like the captive
daughters of Sion, in the Occident she pealed forth
her exulting hymns of joy and thanksgiving like
Miriam. It is indeed difficult to measure the proportions of an event of such political, moral and religious magnitude, and of such importance not only
to Spain, but to mankind.
To the conquest of Granada. and to the triumph
of the Cross over the Crescent in battle, and of the
dogmas of Christianity over the precepts of Mahometanism succeeded another stupendous event-the
discovery of America. There needed an Isabella
to understand Columbus and to open to him  the




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         321
paths to the unknown world which he had divined,
and there needed a Columbus to complete the glory
of Isabella. In both it was piety which illumined
their genius and gave it the direction which it followed. It pleases God to create such glorious sympathetic affinities when they are necessary to carry
on His designs. The blow given to Islamism, the
rise of Spain to the rank of a first-rate power,
growing compact and gigantic into an indissoluble
unity, and dazzling the other nations with the
scintillations of her diadem  of newly acquired
glory, the discovery of America with the marvellous deeds by which it was accompanied, and
the measureless wealth which it brought out of the
bowels of an hitherto unknown part of the globe,
would have been sufficient to operate, not only in
the country which was more directly affected by
these events, but also in the rest of the civilized
world, a radical revolution in household ideas and
domestic economy, in politics and commerce, in the
arts, morals, wants and manners of the people.
But, as if this was not enough, Spain, who seemed
destined to be pent up within herself, like an enchanted giant round whom a magic spell had thrown
up mountains and spread oceans, as guards and
warders to watch over him, burst loose and poured
her invincible battalions over Europe, and particularly into Italy-into that land with which, at that
time especially, the mind could not come into contact without being inoculated with its superior civil21




322           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
ization; for by the influence of religion, of the fine
arts. the sciences and literature, Rome still ruled
the world, when her arms had become effete and
powerless. Over the tombs of the Caesars the chivalry of Spain and France met in deadly opposition
and emulous rivalry. Gonsalvo de Cordova, in his
Italian campaigns, gained the surname of the " Great
Captain," and secured for his country the conquest
of Naples and Sicily, with the restoration also of the
Roussillon. It looked as if fortune had adopted
Spain and made of her a petted child. These events
were like meteors which had chased each other, and
which, each in its turn, had, within short intervals,
irradiated the firmament; they were also like earthquakes which had shaken Spain and a great portion
of Europe; and if the human mind had been asleep,
it would have been awakened by the illumination
and the commotion. But it was not asleep. On
the contrary, it was on the alert, and the discovery
of the compass and of printing, recently made,
seems to have been vouchsafed by Providence to
facilitate the happening of the events which we have
mentioned, the dissemination of their knowledge and
the perpetuation of their consequences.
The human mind is like a hive. The dormant
mass seems dead; but shake it and you will find
that it is alive. Another shake-and your ears are
struck by a low and confused hum-a murmur of discontent perhaps at its repose being disturbed-and
then comes out a flight of thoughts, which, like busy




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           323
bees, scatter far and wide, some distilling honey,
and others checking intruders with  their sharp
stings. It is not astonishing that, in such a reign,
during which the mind and soul were so much excited, literature, the arts, and sciences should have
acquired such a prodigious development, particularly
when fostered by the favor of a Princess who patronized them with fond love and intelligent appreciation.  Pompey had boasted that, if he stamped his
foot, armies would spring up from  the bosom of
Italy. At the gentle beckoning of Isabella, there
sprang up in Spain a host of men who distinguished
themselves as theologians, jurists, historians, physicians, astronomers, naturalists, lyrical and dramatic
poets, linguists, musicians, and successful explorers through the whole range of human knowledge.
The literary movement extended from the Moorish
ballad  and the romance of chivalry to the grave
studies of the universities; and the most gigantic
typographical work of the time, the Polyglot Bible,
was, not long after, the production of Spain. With
the encouragements of the Queen, the fair sex entered
into competition with the other in the cultivation of
the arts, in scientific attainments and in literary
pursuits.  There were, among others, Beatrix de
Galindo, surnamed "the Latin," Lucinda Medrano,
who held a professorship in Salamanca, Francisco
de Lebrija, who gave lessons of rhetoric in the university of Alcala,* Maria de Mendoza, who was
* Lafuente's History of Spain, p. 76, vol. II.




324            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
famous for her knowledge of the Greek, Hebrew,
Arabic, and other languages, and Maria de Pacheco,
of illustrious birth, who shone by her erudition under
the reign of Isabella, and who, in the days of Charles
V., left an immortal name by the heroism with which
she defended the liberties of Castile as the wife and
widow of the celebrated and unfortunate Juan de
Padilla.  The fame of this intellectual development
reached  even  remote  climes, and  the  learned
Erasmus expressed his admiration of itfrom the interior of Hollanld.  This development would probably have been greater under Isabella, Charles V.
and Philip II., if it had not been for the establishment of the Inquisition, that thought-killing institution and antagonist of human progress.
The reign of the insane Joana, or rather of her
husband, the Count of Flanders, was but a flitting
shadow  which passed over this brilliant horizon.
The reign of Charles V., by its grandeur, was no
less favorable than that of Ferdinand and Isabella,
to stimulate all the intellectual faculties and energies
of the people. That age of battles and religious
schisms, was, nevertheless, the golden age of Spanish
literature.  The  wars of Charles had put Spain
in frequent and intimate relations with Italy, and
Italy had begun to Italianize Spain. The marvellous
works of Leonardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo, Raphael, Titian, Correggio, and other artists were not lost
upon the grim warriors whose tastes were formed
by those masterpieces. It gave rise to those schools




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           325
which were established in Spain, and which, in their
turn, became as famous and as original in their productions as those which at first they had imitated.
The Spanish mind could not also but be influenced
by the literature of the country of Dante, Ariosto,
Tasso and Petrarch; and many of the Spanish poets
adopted the prosody and the forms of composition
which met with popular favor in the land which they
admired, and in which they had so long sojourned,
either as students, or as warriors, or in a diplomatic
capacity.  Castellejos, Villegas and other partisans
of the old Spanish school opposed this innovation
and censured the authors who were guilty of it, calling  them  "Petrarchists."   But the new  Italian
school prevailed, and remained at last a distinct
species of Spanish literature.  The Didactic style
was also cultivated in verse and prose.  As to
dramatic literature, it progressed with less ease
than the lyrical and the didactic, because the Clergy
was opposed to it, and prohibited the comedies of
Torres Naharro, who had turned his attention to
this kind of composition. He was, however, followed with more success' by the actor and author, Lope
de Rueda, whose comedies were so popular that it
was difficult to stop their representations in various
cities of Andalusia and Castile. It was art in its
infancy, it is true, and the scenic decorations were
singularly primitive. Still their effect was new and
striking at the time, although they would have
seemed ridiculous to us, and Lope de Rueda may




326            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
be considered as the founder of the Spanish theatre
-that theatre which was soon to become the admiration of the world and a school for other nations.
Satirical compositions and light sportive pieces
were among the productions which obtained the
most success. In both the illustrious Diego Hurtado
de Mendoza distinguished himself pre-eminently.
He was a lyric poet, the author of satires in prose,
an ingenious novel writer, a grave historian, a
sagacious and active diplomatist, a loyal, frank
and austere member of the Council of the Emperor.
His sportive novel, Lazarillo de Tormes, is a faithful and animated delineation of the customs of the
epoch, and acquired a reputation which it has retained to this day. Not only has it been translated
into several languages, but new and beautiful editions of it have been published even in this century.
As to historical literature, it seemed to keep pace
with the aggrandizement of the Spanish nation,
and to rise in its merits and style in proportion to the
importance, fecundity and variety of its materials.
Hitherto there had been but mere chronicles; now
there were histories. Morales, Garibay and Zurita,
made their appearance. Francisco Lope de Gomara,
Bernal Diaz del Castillo, Bartolome de las Casas, recorded the discoveries and exploits of their countrymen in the New World, and the erudite Gonzalo de
Oviedo published his "Natural and General History of the Indies." As a philosopher and humanist,
Luis Vivez gained for himself an European reputa



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         327
tion, and it was said that William Bude, Erasmus
of Rotterdam, and Luis Vivez of Spain, formed a
great triumvirate of learning which could not be
matched.  In a country so religious as Spain was,
and in an age in which the Lutheran schism took
place, it is natural that theological studies should
have been a subject of special importance and favor,
and that profound theologians should have arisen as
they did, who were cited as the honor of Spain, and
who acted a conspicuous part in the famous and
protracted Council of Trent. A peculiarity of the
reign of Charles V., which is perhaps no less a peculiarity of the Spanish character, was, that there
seemed to be a poetic inspiration in the incessant
clash of arms, and that the laurels of Parnassus
grew spontaneously in blood-stained fields; for all
those who tuned the lyre, 6r wielded the pen of
authorship, were, with the exception of ecclesiastics,
stout warriors whose swords had learned to flash in
the van of battles. The chronicler, Perez de Guzman,
had distinguished himself as a soldier in the combat
of La Higuera; Lope de Ayala, who figured in the
battles of Najeria and Aljubarrota, was made prisoner when fighting stoutly, and wrote of military
events in which he had taken an active part. Jorge
Manrique commanded armed expeditions, fought at
Calatrava and the siege of Velez, whilst he composed
elegies as soft as a woman's sigh. Bernal Diaz del
Castillo accompanied Cortez to Mexico, and, after
being present at one hundred and nineteen battles.




328            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
this Ajax turned historian and transmitted to posterity a most valuable account of the conquest of
New Spain. Boscan, whilst he joins the conquering
hosts of his countrymen who subdue Italy, introduces into Spanish poetry the Italian metre of
eleven syllables.  Hurtado de Mendoza, whilst fulfilling the duties of a general and of an ambassador,
finds time to write melodious verses and playful
tales with  versatile genius, and with  the same
grave pen with which he records the last war of
Granada.  Garcilasso  follows Charles in all his
campaigns, shows the courage of a hero at the taking of the Goleta and of Tunis, and the graceful
author of Salicio and Nemoroso dies of a wound
received when scaling fortifications.* Thus, during
the reigns of Ferdinand and Isabella, and of Charles
V., the intellect of Spain, radiant with poetry amidst
the turmoils of war, reminds us of the attributes of
that beauteous God, who drove the car of the orb of
day through clouds and storms, who sped with
lofty disdain the unerring shaft at the object of his
wrath, and who charmed the immortals with the
tunes of his lyre.
* Lafuente's History of Spain. Introduction, p. 164, vol. I.




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          329
CHAPTER X.
THE reign of Philip was a continuation of that of
Charles in literature as well as in politics. There
was the same association of martial spirit and love
of letters. Lope de Vega, who, as a dramatic writer,
astonished the world by his genius and his incomparable fecundity, carried the arquebuse as a simple
soldier in the invincible armada. Ercilla met the
brave Indians of the Arauco in many an engagement, and wrote on his shield, or on the carriage of
a cannon, his epic poem, the " Araucana." Cervantes
behaved heroically at the battle of Lepanto, where
he lost one of his hands; and with the other, which
had known the weight of the chains of captivity in
Algeria, he wrote comedies and novels, and, preeminent among the rest, his immortal and inimitable
Don Quixote. The Muses no longer needed the repose and tranquillity of peace to make their voice
heard, as the nightingale waits for the calm and
silence of a summer evening to exhale its melodious
notes. The Nine Sisters had become amazons; they
had assumed the garb of Pallas, and sang as sweetly
in the presence of Mars as in that of Apollo.
The works of illustrious writers, which had become
classical, served to establish the grammar and pros



330           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
ody of the Spanish language, which acquired at the
time all the idiomatic terseness, virility, richness
and harmony for which it has ever since been distinguished. Poetry and prose were then marked by
a splendor of diction which delights us to this day,
when reading the best authors of the epoch. The
first difficulties had been surmounted under the preceding reign. The pioneers had opened the way,
and the glorious procession of intellectual laborers,
provided it kept within certain restrictive bounds,
could advance with less obstacles under a Prince
who had more fondness than his predecessor for
books and for Spanish literature, whose mind had
received a considerable degree of cultivation, who
liked to write himself, and who had even a mania
for acting the pedagogue and correcting the productions of others. It is true that the Inquisition
was an incubus on the intellect of Spain, but, although it was far more terrible under Philip than
under his father, although it showed itself intolerant,
inexorable and harsh beyond description, in relation
to all theological or philosophical doctrines, or on
any matter which was in the least connected with
religion, yet it seemed to be comparatively indulgent
to all productions of the imagination, and to understand that it was the political interest of the Sovereign that his subjects should amuse themselves with
the nugce serim of polite literature.  One could have
indited an ode to Apollo or to any other mythological God without peril, but one attempting to write




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           331
with common sense on government, philosophy or
religion, would probably have been burned.  Poetry
was an Alsatia, or White Friars' privileged ground,
where the persecuted mind was permitted to take
refuge and avoid the bailiffs of the Holy Tribunal.
Hence Castilian poetry was cultivated in all its
forms with zealous devotion, and rose to a height
beyond which it has never since ascended. It was
the crater through which the pent up subterranean
fire sent upward its flames.
Beginning * with the class of lyrical compositions,
we remark that the example given by Garcilasso
was promptly and admirably followed by other
choice spirits, who clothed elevated sentiments with
elegant language.  Among the galaxy of those inspired bards beams the mild and venerable figure
of Father Luis de Leon.  His poetry has all the
moral ingredients of his character, which reproduces
itself in his works as accurately as his person would
have been reflected in a mirror. There is in him
no pomp of thought, no gorgeousness of style, no
artistical arrangement, but a simplicity not destitute
of elevation, and an amiable modesty in the midst
of intellectual grandeur. His writings are impregnated with a subdued tone of pious restraint, which
is relieved with sudden strokes of natural sublimity,
and which is in perfect harmony with the gentle
* It is with pleasure that we acknowledge how much we are indebted
to the recent History of Spain by Lafuente in these observations on
Spanish Literature.




332            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
virtues adorning the author.  He seems, when he
takes his pen, to be entering a temple, and purposely
to lower his voice. His style is serene like a tropical night, with occasional flashes of the heat lightning gleaming on the distant horizon. His " Ode to
country life" implies the existence of a tranquillity
of mind which descends on the reader like a refreshing dew. It is worthy and indicative of the man,
who, after having passed five years in the dungeons
of the Inquisition, returned quietly to his chair in
the University of Salamanca, as if nothing had happened, and resumed his lessons with these words:
"As I was saying to you yesterday."  This allocution is, by the by, a fair specimen of the sublime
simplicity which is sometimes to be found in his
works.  Even in his ode entitled " The Prophecy of
the Tagus," in which he affects a more elevated tone
than is usual with him, he prefers a pure and simple
to a swelling and ambitious diction, and rejects all
meretricious ornaments.  His verse remains chaste
and unpretending like a young virgin, but his
thoughts and images move the soul with a sort of
mild and self-possessed enthusiasm inspired by his
religious and sublime sentiments. Lafuente calls
him the Spanish Horace, but we cannot acknowledge
the propriety of the expression. We cannot see
any resemblance between the two authors. The one
was replete with the skeptic and epicurean philosophy of the Augustan age. Nunc est bibendum —
"Let us drink and be merry, for to-morrow we die."




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         333
The empty thunder of Jove has no terrors for him,
and he delights in the satyr's dance and in the enticing flight of the laughing nymph. The Spanish
poet teaches other lessons, and praises other enjoyments. He glows like the burning bush in the
desert, and he draws his inspirations from the commandments of Jehovah, There is as much difference
between the two authors, as there is between Paganism and Christianity.
The poetry of the bachelor Francisco de la Torre
is full of simplicity and tenderness, like that of Father
Luis de Leon. His songs, his elegies, his pastoral
compositions are easy and fluent and produce a
feeling of pleasant melancholy.  He reminds the
reader of a gentle stream running with soft murmurs
along verdant banks shaded with willows.  Even
his odes, which are written in verses of unequal
metre, are full of harmony, and hardly is the absence
of consonance remarked. With less fluency, although
he sometimes aspired to it, but with more vigor, and
with a sort of austerity not unbecoming his triple
character as a distinguished warrior, ambassador
and historian, Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, of whom
we have already spoken, placed himself by the side
of some of the best poets of the epoch.
If the modern doctrine of equality among men is a
favorite one in political communities, and soothes
that human pride which is so convenient a lever in
the hands of demagogues, certain it is that this levelling rod is powerless in the realms of the intellect.




334          PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
In them there is a hierarchy which cannot be subverted. Wherever the arts flourish, wherever there
are men who cultivate them with pride and delight,
there is some prominent genius who assumes the
first place. It is not an usurpation, but an acknowledged royalty, legitimate in its sway. The diadem
which it wears is an irradiation from the brain, and
all bow before it as before the sun. This is what
took place at this time among the Spanish poets.
They had their prince in the person of the Sevillian
Fernando de Herrera, surnamed the " Divine." He
found the Spanish language as simple and unadorned
as a shepherdess, save with natural flowers. He gave
it the magnificence of a queen resplendent with barbaric pearls and starlike diamonds. His imagination is always on fire and never gives any sign of
refrigeration. His style strikes by its elegance and
grandeur; his thoughts soar aloft like uncaged eagles; the images to which he resorts glitter like gold
undefiled, and a sort of musical accord, full of vigor
and melody, pervades his whole diction. His poetical merits, however, are not wanting in variety,
for he is sometimes abrupt, impetuous and bold, and
seems to play with a whirlwind; sometimes he
stretches himself on a bed of flowers, and his accents
become tender and exquisitely sweet. But even
when he unbends, he retains the richness and dignity of his style, which has never been equalled in
what is called imitative harmony. He is the Pindar
of Spain. His " Ode to John of Austria," his " Hymn




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           335
on the Battle of Lepanto," and his "Elegy on the
Death of the King, Don Sebastian," although so different in their beauties, are all sublime, and are
masterpieces which will forever remain as models
for this kind of composition. Herrera became the
founder of a school which may be designated as the
"Ornate," and which, unfortunately, soon degenerated into exaggeration of sentiment and extravagance of expression.  Some of his imitators, disdaining sobriety, became insupportably affected and
turgid, and corrupted the public taste.  Among
those who followed with most credit in his footsteps
were the two brothers, Lupercio and Bartolome4 Argensolas, Francisco de Figuerroa, Fernando de Acufna, and the Portuguese Montemayor, Saa de Miraada, and Melo, who attempted with felicity to write
Spanish poetry. We must not omit Vicente Espinel,
who inaugurated a style of versification called after
him, the "Espinela," and Juan de Arguijo, whose
florid imagination and virility of thought enabled
him to become one of the most successful imitators
of Herrera.
Lope de Vega, better known as a dramatic author,
although he excelled his countrymen in all styles of
poetry, from the short sonnet to the long-winded
epopee, did not fail, of course, to establish his preeminence among the lyric poets. As such, he introduced the poetical language into those ballads
and popular songs which before had generally been
of prosaic simplicity; and into erudite poetry he




336           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
introduced familiar and unpretending expressionsso as to ennoble the former, and vulgarize as it were
the latter. The Spaniards look upon him  as the
Phenix of geniuses, as a being in whom the faculties of
the imagination were such as to be considered truly
miraculous.
In didactic poetry, Juan de La Cueva obtained
some reputation, but his works are incomplete and
destitute of method.  He certainly was neither a
Horace nor a Boileau, nor a Pope, and seemed not
to be disposed or able to practice what he purported
to teach. As to the poem entitled: "The New Art
to write Comedies," by Lope de Vega, it is rather the
vindication of the dramatic style of that author than
a didactic work, although it gives valuable lessons.
More worthy of the name would have been the poem
of the Cordovian, Pablo de Cespedes, on the "Art
of Painting," had he left us more than mere fragments of it. If he had finished and polished it, he
would have added to his great reputation as a
painter, a sculptor and antiquarian, that of a superior poet, for the detached parts which we have of
his poem are rich in thought, harmony and coloring.
With regard to epic compositions, that most difficult and elevated branch of poetry, the Spaniards
had very little to boast of in that age of intellectual
fertility. This may appear somewhat strange, since,
several centuries before, when the Spanish language
was hardly formed, the admirable although rough



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          337
hewn poems of "the Cid," and of "Count Fernan
Gonzales,' had given room  to hope for still more
finished and  beautiful productions.  Such wellfounded expectations, however, were not realized.
There sprang up a multitude of poems, some of
which on subjects worthy of the epic muse, but none
ever rose above mediocrity. The epic fecundity of
Lope de Vega was as great as his lyric and dramatic
abundance. but he never could reach the combination of those qualities which are required in the epopee. It is impossible not to admire the luxuriance
of his imagination, the easy flow of his poetic vein,
his prodigious facility of versification; but, at the
same time, the defects inherent to the precipitation
with which he wrote are but too visible. His style
is loose, careless, and lacks nerve. His metaphors
are frequently offensive to good taste; his frequent playing on words is puerile and out of
place; his story is unskillfully jointed and put together, and there is too much improbability in his
incidents, episodes and characters. He fails both in
the matter and in the form, in the conception and in
the ornaments, not only in the " Circe," the " Andromeda," the "Serpentary," the "Beautiful Angelica " and other poems, but also in the " Conquest of
Jerusalem,   which is the most elaborate of all.
Hence it must be concluded that Lope de Vega,
notwithstanding the vastness of his genius, had not
in him that which constitutes the epic poet. There
22




338           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
was a cause of debility in the very excess of his
fecundity.
Alonzo de Ercilla, the author of the " Araucana,"
did not propose to himself, says Lafuente, in his History of Spain, to compose a poem, but to describe
in verse the achievements which he had witnessed,
and the battles in which he had acted a part. Thus
he neither could, nor attempted to, subject his work
to the rules and conditions of an epic composition,
nor did the object which he had in view permit it.
He aimed at being a historian more than a poet,
and, if he appealed to poetry, it was more to give
precision and brilliancy to his truthful narrations
than to soar on its wings into the regions of fiction.
But his descriptions of battles are so full of fire, he
puts such eloquent and vigorous speeches in the
mouths of his personages, and there are such gems
of beauty in the mass of his imperfect versification,
that the "Araucana" is the poem of that epoch
which is the most appreciated by the Spaniards, and
the best known among other nations.
Balbuena, with a much larger endowment of the
poetical element than Ercilla, with much more
richness of imagination, more elevation of ideas, and
more facility and flexibility of diction, succeeded
not in giving an epopee in his " Bernardo," but only
abundant evidence of his possessing happy dispositions for the composition of such a poem. He either
seems not to be aware of the difficulties presented




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          339
by the art which he professes, or he tramples upon
them at random and with a heavy foot. Rules and
precepts he treats as antagonists in his way, whom
he knocks down right and left with the ponderous
battle-axe of the lion-hearted Richard.  He is so
unequal, irregular and incorrect; he is so made
up of revolting monstrosities and of incomparable beauties, that, notwithstanding merits which
must be acknowledged and admired, it is impossible
not to be filled with insupportable disgust in attempting to read his works. It is only with a sweating
brow, and with the pickaxe of the miner in hand, that
one can reach the pure gold hidden under such
heaps of rubbish. In the "Christiad" of Father
Diego de Hojeda, in the " Monserrate" of Virues,
in the "Conquest of Betica" by Juan de la Cueva,
in the "Tears of Angelica " by Luis Baraona de Soto,
there are beautiful passages, but nothing which, as
a whole, deserves to be mentioned as an epic poem.
It is useless to allude to the efforts of many other
authors who were still less successful. Spain has
never been able to this day to produce a Tasso, or
even a Camoens.
As to light and fugitive poetry, Lope de Vega
gave to Spanish literature the "Gatomaquia," a
poem  on cats; and Villaviciosa, the " Mosquea," or
the Fly. They are pieces full of wit, grace, and
ease, which are a feast for the gravest mind, and
which show the rare poetical faculties with which
their authors were gifted. The most fastidious taste




340           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
can hardly refrain from granting an approving smile
to these frolics of the imagination, which seems to
sport with itself as if intoxicated with glee and fun.
In what may be called sacred, moral and sentimental poetry, there are remarkable compositions
due to the pens of Saint Juan de la Cruz, Saint
Theresa, Father Melon de la Chaide, Father Jose
de Siguenza, who paraphrased many of the Psalms
of David; and the universal Lope de Vega, who is
to be met in all the fields and paths of literature.
But Father Luis de Leon, of whom we have already
spoken, surpasses them all. Contemplation of the
sacred objects for which he tunes his lyre throws
him into ecstatic beatitude. The rapture of his soul
breaks out in tender exclamations of reverence and
gratitude. He sees and describes the celestial city
of the Saints with a sort of poetic mysticism and a
harmony of diction which produce ineffable emotions.
It sounds like a distant and imperfectly-heard strain
from the angelic choirs. Among his works, the " Ode
on the Ascension of Our Lord," and another on'Life in Heaven," deserve to be mentioned with
special praise.  It is worthy of remark that his
translation of the songs of Solomon, with commentaries, which he undertook merely to please a friend
who did not understand Latin, was the cause of his
being detained five years in the execrable dungeons
of the Inquisition. He was suspected of heresy on
account of his having violated the edict of the Holy
Church which prohibited the translation of the




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.        341
sacred books into any of the " vulgar" languages. He
went through all the sufferings of his incarceration
with the most examplary Christian fortitude, and,
when released at last, he contented himself with
exhaling a modest complaint in a stanza of ten
verses.
Dramatic poetry and scenic representations were
much indebted to Torres Naharro and Lope de
Rueda for the progress which they made toward a
higher order of cultivation. Juan de Timoneda,
who collected and published the works of his friend,
Lope de Raeda, wrote himself thirteen or fourteen
dramatic compositions. They were comedies, farces,
interludes, tragi-conledies, and allegorical pieces,
which were, as was then the custom, represented in
the open air, and in which there were dialogues of
much vivacity.  Two members of Lope de Rueda's
strolling company of players, Alonzo de la Vega
and Cisneros, were authors like himself. But he
who gave a new tone and physiognomy to the stage
was the Sevillian, Juan de la Cueva, who composed
pieces divided into four acts or days, and distinguished for their variety of metres.  Some were
founded on events recorded in the History of Spain,
such as the "Infantes de Lara," "Bernardo del
Carpio," the "Siege of Zamora;" and others related
to ancient history, such as " Ajax," " Virginia," and
"Mutius Scevola," or to subjects of pure invention,
such as the "Slanderer," or the "Amorous Old
Man."




342            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
The Valencian, Christoval de Virues produced
some extravagant dramas, such as Cassandra and
iarcela, and others remarkable for their atrocities,
such as Attila Furious, in which the spectator was entertained with the death of no less than fifty persons,
and the burning of a ship with her entire crew. His
Dido, however, is more sparing of absurdities and
horrors, and in it the unities are observed, probably
by accident, and without any design on the part of
the author to be guided by any of the acknowledged
rules of art. At about the same time, the Galician,
Geronimo Bermudez, wrote certain dramatic pieces,
which, with considerable boasting, he pretended to
be the first that deserved in Spain the name of
tragedies.  They turned on well-known events of
the life of Ines de Castro, whose name, by a strange
conceit, the author transformed into Nise, the anagram of Ines. But, notwithstanding the pretensions
of the vainglorious Geronimo Bermudez, he was
eclipsed by the Aragonese, Lupercio de Argensola,
whose three tragedies, Jsabella, Filis, and Alexander, attracted more attention than any other compositions of the same kind. Cervantes says that they
surprised and delighted all those who saw them
acted-both the rabble and the higher ranks of society. If true, it shows how vitiated was the public
taste at the epoch, for not only did all the personages
in those tragedies meet a frightful death in sight of
the spectator, but he was regaled also with other




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          343
scenes so disgusting, that no modern audience could
tolerate them for a moment.
The fact is, that theatrical art and dramatic poetry
had been in a state of infancy for several centuries.  The representations were given by strolling actors and in the open air, with costumes of
the poorest, and scenic decorations of the roughest.
Under Philip II. all this rudeness began to peel off,
and was succeeded by the splendor which was due
to the genius of Cervantes and Lope de Vega. It
was a sudden transition from twilight to the glories
of the meridian.  The thirty or forty comedies
written by Cervantes were not, it is true, such as
might have been expected from him, and, although
they are but little remembered, still they contributed
greatly to the progress of the dramatic art and to
the introduction of a purer taste. In a play which
was intended to portray the misery of captivity in
Algiers, he represented himself in the character of
the slave Saavedra.  His NX2nancia, although deficient in its plot and other requisites, is full of originality and beautiful scenes. The Confusa, which
he considered his best piece, seems to be the one
which obtained the most vogue at the time. It was
not, however, to his dramatic genius that Cervantes
was to be indebted for the universal and immortal
fame which he was to acquire.
But all dramatic authors were thrown into the
background as soon as Lope de Vega made his ap



344           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
pearance. Such was his fecundity, that he was
looked upon as one of the greatest prodigies of
nature. It can hardly be comprehended how he
found time to write eighteen hundred comedies and
four hundred allegorical plays, besides innumerable
poems, and epic, didactic, lyric, and burlesque compositions. He was a literary Briareus, with a hundred arms. He frequently, it is said, wrote in the
morning the piece which was to be acted in the
evening; although it is difficult to understand how
the actors managed to learn their parts. He went
to work on the inspiration of the moment, took up
the conception which suddenly presented itself to
his mind, and, trusting to his prolific imagination,
he added scene to scene without caring for the appropriateness of their connection, until he filled up
the outlines of his subject. In all these improvisations it is impossible not to admire the richness of
Lope de Vega's fancy, and not to be amazed at his
inexhaustible vein of invention. At the same time,
it is evident that he rushes onward without knowing
where he goes. Therefore he is the author of many
very admirable scenes, but only of few good comedies. Hence, with his varied talents and his boundless imagination, he failed to raise the stage to that
state of perfection which it was in his power to invest it with, if he had subjected himself to patient
labor, and checked with the hand of sobriety the
headlong flight of his muse. As it is, his voluminous works are an immense chaos, where precious




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          345
gelms and rubbish, and all the elements of nature,
occasionally brought together into harmonious arrangements, and with transient glimpses of accidental fitness and adaptation, are nevertheless whirled
along in inextricable confusion.
Lope de Vega, however, greatly ameliorated the
dramatic art in Spain, by driving from the stage those
coarse farces and repugnant monstrosities to which
it had been exclusively surrendered. He gave more
decency and decorum  to the language and sentiments; he felicitously united together the popular
and erudite expressions of the Spanish idiom; he introduced personages more polished, more tenderhearted, more interesting, and more within the range
of probable existence. Thus he inaugurated a new
era for dramatic representations, and it may be said
that he was the inventor of the Spanish drama, which
shortly after became the admiration of the civilized
world, and a model for all the theatres of Europe.
Lope de Vega's fecundity has remained a unique
phenomenon in the annals of mankind. He lived
seventy years, and it is calculated that, during that
lapse of time, he wrote poetry to the average of
eight pages a day. It was an intellectual cataclysm,
which could no more be stopped than the rush of
waters over the Falls of Niagara. He monopolized
the theatres of Spain; there was no room for anybody else. His was the only name which, for many
years, figured on the play-bills - so much so, that
whenever a  production  of peculiar merit ap



346           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
peared on the stage, the people would obstinately
attribute it to Lope de Vega. The multitude followed him  in the streets; strangers inquired for
him as an object of extraordinary curiosity; Monarchs gazed at him with complacency, and admitted
him into their presence to shower honors upon their
admired poet. Even the Pontiffs of Rome wished
to reward so wonderful a genius; Urban VII. sent
him the decorations of the Order of St. John, and
conferred upon him  the strange and unexpected
honor of Doctor of Theology, forwarding to him the
diploma with an autograph letter under the Pontifical hand and seal. Never was a writer more in
danger of being smothered under his laurels, so profusely were they heaped upon the fortunate Spaniard.
Passing from poetical to prose productions, and
beginning, on account of their analogy with the
former, with those which are mere works of the imagination and only intended to amuse the reader,
we find, in relation to the kind of compositions
which were known under the general name of novels,
and which, in our days, have come to exercise so
marked an influence on the morals of nations, that
the Spaniards cultivated with success this branch of
literature under Philip IT.  In preceding years,
Spain had teemed with those romances of chivalry
which seemed so peculiarly adapted to the genius of
her people, and some of which had been enumerated
by Cervantes in his Don Quixote.  After them,




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           347
pastoral novels became the fashion, and, in our
opinion, had not the merit of their predecessors.
The adventures of Amadis, Palmerin, and Belianis,
were full of marvellous extravagances and monstrosities, it is true; but they maintained alive that
antique warlike spirit, those notions of honor, those
sentiments of refined love, courtly gallantry, and
deep-seated religious tendencies, which had always
characterized the Spanish nation.  Such works were
like the sound of the trumpet which used to call on
the Christian standard to unfurl itself, and on the
stout knight to spring on his war-horse. But these
pastoral novels, which were neither more probable
in their inventions, nor more regular in their forms
of composition, made no stirring appeal to the soul,
in which they awoke no sentiment of grandeur or
generosity.  They did not even represent truthfully
the manners, usages, customs and feelings of the
shepherds and shepherdesses whose milk-and-water
amours they languidly pretended to portray, in a language little in harmony with the humble condition
of keepers of goats and sheep.  The ear rebels
against the monotonous melody of the love-sick flute
which eternally pipes the same tune, and the cloyed
stomach rises up to the gorge in disgust at the excessive sweetness of those literary condiments. Of
this kind of compositions were the Golden Age, by
Balbuena, the Diana of Montemayor, the Arcadia
of Lope de Vega, the Galatea of Cervantes, with




348           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
innumerable others of these water-melon productions.
The mind delights like nature in variety, and the
pastoral novels were followed by those light and playful stories of which Don Diego de Hurtado had given
us so felicitous a sample in his Lazarillo de Tormes,
which formed so remarkable a contrast with the
austere character of the author. The compositions
of this class which obtained the greatest reputation
were the Adventures of Squire JMarcos de D' Oregon,
by Vicente Espinel; the life and achievements of the
roguish Gwzman de Alfarcache, by Mateo Aleman;
the Lame Devil, by Luis Yelez de Guevara; and the
life of the Great Tacano, by Quevedo. The chief
merit of these works consists in the more or less
piquancy and graces of the style, and in the more or
less exact delineation of the morals and customs of a
certain class of society. But as the heroes of these
novels were always personages of the most abject
description, such as servants, thieves, adventurers,
swindlers, and other characters of the same black
stamp, who delighted in making a parade of their
vices and infamy, and who ended by being the permanent tenants of a jail, the reader, notwithstanding
the amusement which he derives from the perusal of
these witty and loose compositions, cannot but be
aware that he has stooped to very low company, and
that he has indulged in a sort of debauch which it
would not be proper to repeat with too much fre



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          349
quency. These works, in which the humorous knaveries of a valet are recited con amore, seem almost
to be the parody of those nobler compositions in
which the superhuman exploits and virtues of a
knight are related in language equally extravagant
and appropriately bombastic. It reminds us of Homer singing the Battle of the Frogs after that of the
gods and heroes of the Iliad.
Of a different nature were the.Moral Tales of
Cervantes (Novelas Ejemplares), to which he gave
this title, because he said there was nothing in them
from which useful lessons could not be drawn. He
went so far as to declare, that his object was to instruct as well as to amuse, and that he would rather
cut off his hand than publish anything in his novels
which might inspire a criminal thought. A most
worthy determination, which should be common to
all the authors of works of this kind! His style and
tone correspond in these moral tales with his delineations of real life, and are neither too low nor too
elevated. But he soon surpassed himself in his Don
Quixote de la Mancha. This work, which has never
been equalled, which retains its indescribable charms
in all the languages of the civilized world into which
it has been translated, which is a favorite book with
the young as well as with the aged, with the frivolous as well as with the austere, which has been and
will be the delight of every successive century to
the end of time, is too well known and appreciated




350            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
to require that anything should be said on its transcendent excellence.
Under the reign of Philip II., there could, of
course, be no political writer.  But one exception is
afforded by his celebrated minister, Antonio Perez,
who, in his exile in a foreign land, wrote to vindicate himself from the cruel persecution of his master.
The pamphlets in which he speaks of his official
career, his fall, his numerous trials before different
tribunals, his various imprisonments and his flight,
although disfigured at times by an affected display
of erudition, are written with energy and vivacity.
In his letters there is more elegance, more sprightliness, a more natural style, and a greater appearance of candor and frankness. They are not free
from defects, but they are, on the whole, a good
model of epistolary composition.  He owes his literary reputation to persecution and exile.
Historical literature was more progressive. There
was an abundance of histories of particular events,
of the several kingdoms and provinces which composed the Spanish monarchy, of cities, towns, localities, institutions and men. It would be useless to
look into any one of them for much criticism  and
philosophy.  Philosophy was then an exotic in the
land of the Inquisition, and circumstances were
evidently not favorable to its growth.  In some of
those productions the language is ornate and florid;
in others chaste, correct and pure; in many heavy
and uncouth; and in most is to be observed the




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          351
prevailing taste of the epoch for pompous harangues,
long descriptions of sieges and battles, and a minuteness of details which makes those narrations insupportably tedious. All those historians are either
military men or ecclesiastics, and their works bear
the impress of those predilections and ideas which
were natural and inherent in their respective professions. There is in them too much of the priest,
or of the warrior; too much of the incense of the
altar, or of the smoke, dust and clang of the battlefield. Such were, for instance, the History of the
Rebellion and Cchastisement of the Moors, by Marmol; the War of Granada, by Diego Hurtado de
Mendoza; the Commentaries of Luis de Avila on
the War waged in Grermany by Charles K; the
Wars in the Low  Couentries, by Carlos Colomar,
Marquis de Espinar; the Commentaries on the Wars
in Flanders, by Bernardino de Mendoza; the History of the Civil Wars of Granada, by Diego Perez
de Hita; and other works of the like nature, of more
or less merit, composed by actors in the scenes
which they described. These historians had bled
in the battles which they narrated, and wielded the
pen with a hand used to the grasp of the sword. If
the military men cared little about recording anything else than deeds of arms, on the other side, the
ecclesiastics, who became historians, neglected facts
of importance to fall into ecstasy over the virtues of
a saint, or the merits of a religious institution, or the
happening of a miracle, and briefly mentioned worldly




352           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
events, merely, as it were, to have the opportunity
of appending to them moral reflections and Christian
advice intended for the edification of the reader.
Such is the Life of St. Teresa de Jesus, by Father
Diego de Yepes, the Confessor of Philip.  Father
Jose de Siguenza, who wrote the Life of St. Jerome,
and the GeneralZ  istory of the Order of that name,
with admirable elegance and an easy flow of style,
and at the same time with great dignity of tone,
elevation of ideas, and profound erudition, had all
the qualities of a historian, and it is to be regretted
that he did not employ his eminent talents in transmitting to posterity the annals of the Kingdom.
Among the various histories which deserve to be
mentioned, notwithstanding the imperfections of
which they are full, and which appertained to the
epoch, are the General History of the World, by
Antonio de Herrera; the First Part of the History
of Philip II, by Cabrera; the Historical Annals
of the Kingdom of Aragon, by Argensola, the author
of the Conquest of the Molucca Islands; and, above
all, the Annals of the same Kingdom, by Geronimo
de Zurita, the  most conscientious, correct and
searching of all the historians who wrote on the
subject, and the one who demonstrates with the
greatest lucidity and precision the manner in which
the Constitution of Aragon grew  and established
itself. Estevan de Garibay published a Summary
of the Chronicles and Universal History of all the
Kingdoms of Spain, and the Genealogie's of the




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           353
COatholic Kings,* for which he was handsomely rewarded by Philip. This author was a most diligent
investigator of facts, but his style is so dry and disagreeable, that, although his work may be consulted
with advantage as a valuable source of information,
it cannot be read with pleasure.
Nothing which deserved the name of a General
History of Spain had yet made its appearance. The
glory of such a composition was reserved to Father
Juan de Mariana. The Spaniards have compared
him to Titus Livius, whom he imitates so far as to
put in the mouths of illustrious personages the most
prolix harangues or orations; thus sacrificing historical truth to the desire of making a display of
eloquence. Like his Roman predecessor, he gathered into a body materials which were dispersed
and isolated in disjointed ancient chronicles, but his
work could not now be properly called a history.
His style is clear, pure and dignified. His ideas
and sentiments are noble, his judgment correct, his
erudition extensive, and his talents of a high order.
He did, probably, all that could be done at the time.
Had he lived in this century, his work would, no
doubt, have answered better all the requisites of
history. It must be remembered that he could not
but be under the influence of the age in which he
wrote. To this must be attributed, be it from credulity, timidity, or respect for prevailing opinions and
*Ferdinand and Isabella are emphatically called, in Spain, "The
Catholic Kings."
23




354           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
prejudices, his having admitted in his pages so
many absurd fables, popular errors and ridiculous
traditions, of which some were so strikingly exceptionable that he himself was obliged to say: "I transcribe more things than I believe."  In relation to
the domination of the Arabs in Spain, which is one
of the most important and most brilliant parts of the
history of that country, he is particularly defective
and meagre.  He so invariably disfigures their
names, that they can hardly be recognized, and he
is so prejudiced, that he never fails to designate
as " barbarians" a people who, in civilization and
knowledge of the arts and sciences, had long been
superior to his own countrymen. His work, however, is of considerable merit; but it is not in its
pages that the philosophic reader can expect to
trace with  lucidity and  method  the march of
those successive events, and the gradual influence
of those causes, which had produced at last the political and social organization of Spain, such as it
existed in the days of the author.
The learned humanist, Francisco Sancho de Brozas, who was surnamed the "Apollo and Mercury
of Spain," published several works on the Latin and
Greek Grammar, on rhetoric and dialectics, and
became so much pleased with his own attainments
and performances, that too much learning, assisted
by too much vanity, may be said to have "made
him mad;" for he boasted that he could teach Latin
in eight months, Greek in twenty days, spherical




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.           355
geometry in eight, dialectics and rhetoric in two
months, and philosophy, with mystic theology, within
even a shorter allowance of time.
But it is in the writers on sacred subjects that the
richness and perfection at which the Spanish language had arrived are to be seen. Their fecundity
and eloquence seem  to have been. unsurpassed.
Juan de Avila, surnamed the "Apostle of Andalusia," had astonished and edified Spain by the fervor of his sermons, glowing with force and fluency
of diction, like a fiery stream of fused gold. He was
succeeded, under Philip, by his friend and disciple,
Father Luis de Grenada, who was called the " Prince
of Sacred Eloquence in Spain."%' His style is so pure
and vernacular, that in all his writings there is not
to be found, it is said, one word which is obsolete, or
disused, or affected, or Latinized, or which is borrowed from  any foreign idiom. This must have
been a difficult task, considering how largely the
Latin element enters into the composition of the
Spanish language.  He had the rare faculty of producing grand effects by the felicitous way in which
he introduced the simplest and most commonly used
expressions, and, although there is hardly one of his
periods in which there is not the most consummate
art, it is so concealed as not to appear, except on
minute examination.  It was said of him that no
theological writer spoke of God with more dignity
and awe-inspiring force, and that he opened to his
readers the "very entrails of the Deity."  It must




356           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
be admitted, however, that his extreme facility of
composition tempts him  sometimes into verbosity
and redundancy.
There was living at that time an admirable woman,
a saint, who, with the meekness of the dove, had a
heart glowing with passion-such passion as angels
are gifted with-passion for all that is noble and
divine, and a soul as ardent as those seraphic lamps
which burn in the presence of the Most High. Her
name was Saint Teresa de Jesus, and her whole existence was a sort of celestial ecstasy.  Her works
were written with talent and discrimination, and in
a style chaste and simple, which not unfrequently
rises to the sublime. She is so transported herself with poetical and religious frenzy, that the
reader, catching her enthusiasm, feels as if carried
with her to the mansions of eternal glory. " She
seems," says Lafuente, whom I have so often quoted,
"to have inherited the soul of Isabella the Catholic,
and we feel justified in believing that Teresa, on the
throne, would have been an Isabella, and that Isabella, in the cloister, would have been a Saint
Teresa."
One of the most eminent sacred writers of the
epoch is Father Luis de Leon, whom we have already mentioned as a distinguished poet. He is less
oratorical, less abundant and harmonious than
Father Luis de Granada, but more philosophical,
more profound and energetic. Both were eloquent,
and both were skillful dialecticians; both were models




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         357
of meekness, virtue, and Christian piety. The one
has been compared to Massillon, and the other to
Bourdaloue.  These ascetic  writers, with many
others equally meritorious, who obtained distinction
in the same field of literature, and whom  we are
compelled to pass over in silence, on account of the
limits which we have assigned to this disquisition,
were also celebrated for the suavity of their temper,
their benevolence, their indulgent and compassionate
virtues, and their forbearance to treat harshly the
frailties of humanity.  They never attempted to
make proselytes except by persuasion, and the sweet
influence of instruction given in the blandest form.
They look like a luminous constellation in the midst
of the darkness of that firmament which the Inquisition had spread over Spain, and they present a singular contrast with the unmerciful ministers and
agents of the Holy Office, whose catechism was the
gag, the dungeon and the stake.  Some of them were
even brought before that terrible tribunal, and barely
escaped the most cruel punishment.
With regard to theology and jurisprudence, it
would require page after page to do justice to those
who have acquired an illustrious name in these two
branches of human knowledge under the reign of
Philip II. We shall only mention a few. Diego de
Lainez, the companion of Loyola in his apostleship,
and his successor as General of the Order of Jesus,
first obtained notoriety by his discourses in the
celebrated Conference of Poissy near Paris, and rose




358            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
to celebrity in the third meeting of the Council of
Trent, by the oration in which he advocated the necessity of having a supreme and infallible head of
the Church, immeasurably superior to the Bishops,
who were to be the mere delegates of his pontifical
authority.  The 11th volume of the " General History of the Jesuits' bears his name.  Ills contemporary, Alfonso de Salmeron, one of the seven first
disciples of Loyola, was an enthusiastic propagator
of the doctrines of his Master in Germany, Poland,
Flanders, France and Italy, a professor in the University of Ingoldstadt, a distinguished orator in the
Council of Trent, a learned commentator of the
Epistles of St. Paul and of the Scriptural Books.
Two other Jesuits, Father Thomas Sanchez and
Luis de Molina, produced a sensation by their
works.  The first wrote a celebrated treatise on
X Marriage," and compiled a "Digest of Laws."  The
second threw before the public, like an apple of discord, his famous book on the " Accord of Grace with
free will." It gave rise to interminable disputes on
grace and predestination between the Jesuits and
Dominicans, by which the religious world was long
agitated.  Melchior Cano, who acted a conspicuous
part in the Council of Trent, and who denounced in
his writings the institution, the morals, and the plans
of the Jesuits, composed a work on theology which
is said to be incomparable. It is retained to this
day as a text-book in the Spanish Universities.
Bartolome de Carranza, Archbishop of Toledo, also




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          359
f mous among the members of the Council of Trent,
nId the last Confessor of the Emperor Charles V.,
was the author of an " Abbreviated History of the
Councils and the Popes, from St. Peter to Julius
III," of a treatise on " the Residence of Bishops in
their Dioceses," and of a " Spanish Catechism."  For
this last production he was accused before the Inquisition, which  persecuted him  with  incredible
tenacity, although the people persisted in venerating
him as an eminent and orthodox Prelate. Notwithstanding his being suspected of Lutheranism by the
Holy Office, when he died at Rome, where he had
taken refuge, the whole population went into mourning, all the shops were closed, and to his corpse
were paid all the honors due to a saint.
No less famous than the theologians were the men
present at the Council of Trent as jurisconsults.
Azpelcueta, the two Covarrubias (Diego and Antonio), the Archbishop of Tarragona, Antonio Angustin, and other profound jurists who, in that age,
came out of the Universities of Alcala and Salamanca,
who afterwards did honor to the schools of Bolonia
and Paris, and who shone brilliantly in the ecclesiastical assemblies of Rome, or Trent, or in the
courts of England, France and Germany, raised to
the highest pitch the fame of Spanish jurisprudence,
civil and canonical.  Many foreign critics have paid
due homage to their prodigious erudition, and have
left on record appropriate eulogies of their works.
It is impossible to speak of the intellectual move



360           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
ment which took place toward the middle and the
end of the 16th century, without mentioning one of
the most eminent literary characters, and one of the
most learned men of the epoch, Benito Arias Montano, who, with many others, reflected so much honor
upon Spain in the Council of Trent, which was so
grand an assemblage of the most exalted talents,
virtues and erudition of Europe. He is well known
in the Republic of Letters for his " Jewish Antiquities," his "Monuments of Human Salvation," his
" Translation in Verse of the Psalms of David," his
"History of Nature," and his work on "Rhetoric."
But he is more indebted for his fame to his edition
of the Polyglot Bible, which was especially intrusted
to his care by Philip, and which was published at
Antwerp. To no other man could the charge of so
difficult and delicate a task have been given with
more justice, for not only was he a profound theologian, and versed in the Belles Lettres and sciences,
but he was also an extraordinary linguist. Besides
his native language, he was a complete master of
the Hebrew, the Chaldean, the Syriac, the Arabic,
the Greek, the Latin, the French, Italian, Flemish
and German. This magnificent edition of the Polyglot Bible honored equally the Monarch who had
ordered it and the age which had seen its execution.
As a reward, Philip offered a Bishopric to Montano,
who modestly refused. Unfortunately, he had not
consulted the Jesuits in the preparation of his great
work. They became envious, and, at their instiga



PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         361
tion, Montano was denounced to the Inquisition as
suspected of Judaism, because he had given the
Hebrew  text as adopted by the Rabbins.  This
compelled him to publish a book in self-defence, the
title of which was, "My Vindication." The accusation
was referred by the Grand Inquisitor to the investigations and judgment of the Jesuit, Juan de Mariana, who, contrary to the expectations, and much to
the mortification of the members of his company,
reported favorably to Montano. He must have been
a bold man, that Jesuit Mariana, thus to resist, for
the sake of justice, the pressure brought to bear
upon him. In consequence of it he fell himself under
the displeasure of the Inquisition, which persecuted
him, and punished him severely for his work on the
"Alteration of Coin," for another on "Death and
Immortality," and particularly for his treatise on
"Kings and the Institution of Royalty," which was
condemned as seditious by the Parliament of Paris,
and burned by the hand of the public executioner,
because it contained a defense of regicide under the
name of tyrannicide. He did not forgive his brother
Jesuits for their ill-will toward him. and he wrote a
book, which was brought to light only after his death,
and the title of which is: "Infirmities of the Company of Jesus."
In this short literay sketch, we could not but
omit to mention a crowd of men who contributed
their mite to the intellectual wealth of Spain under
the long reign of Philip. The reader who may




362           PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
have followed us in our course must have come to
the conclusion that, in those days, there were two
sciences which must necessarily have been excluded
from cultivation and progress-politics and philosophy.  The reason is apparent under such a monarch
as Philip, and such an institution as the Inquisition,
from whose terrible grasp the most eminent and
holiest members of the Church, such as Archbishops,
Bishops, and even Saints, were not free, whenever
they indulged in what was deemed a liberty of
thought.  For instance, eight venerable prelates and
nine doctors of theology who had participated in
that Council of Trent which had established forever
all the articles of faith of the Catholic Church, were
tried by the Inquisition as suspected of Lutheranism.  What philosopher could have escaped being
roasted alive, when Loyola himself the founder of
the Order of Jesus, St. Francis de Borgia, his intimate friend and disciple, when St. Teresa, and a
legion of others whom one could hardly have fancied
within the reach of a suspicion of heresy, had to appear like supposed culprits before that redoubtable
tribunal, and when the same fate awaited Martin
Martinez de Cuntalapiedra, the author of the Hippoteposeon, merely for his having recommended to
consult the original text of the sacred writings?
The wonder is that anybody presumed to think at
all, on any subject, with the fear of the Inquisition
hanging over one's head like the sword of Damocles.
Fortunately, as we have seen, there is no prison of




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.          363
iron, be it built by man, or devil, which can entirely
prevent the irruption of mind into that boundless
space of free air which is its natural element.
We do not see how the intellectual movement
which unfolded itself in Spain under the reign of
Philip, can be attributed to the patronage or influence of that Monarch. It was the result of other
causes, as we have said before.  Philip was not a
protector of the arts and literature after the fashion
of a Miecenas, an Augustus, a Medici, a Francis, or a
Louis the Fourteenth of France.  He would not have
chatted familiarly over a bottle of wine with Horace,
or Virgil, as with a friend and equal. Although
not deficient in taste, he was too cold, too phlegmatic,
too distant and methodic, too systematically a thing
of starch and buckram, to be in sympathizing harmony with the wayward, enthusiastic, warm-hearted, hot-headed race of artists and poets.  The
patron of the arts must be like Apollo, who guided
the car of the Sun, and must surround himself with
an atmosphere of genial heat.  He must shower
gold, rewards, honors, smiles, caresses, and, above
all, those felicitous  words, which are  the  gift
of Heaven to certain men, by which they create
heroes, and bind forever contented the priests of the
mind to the altar where they worship with so much
toil and love.  Such was not Philip.  There must
have been something freezing in his very encouragements. It was such a warming as is imparted to the
earth by the mantle of snow which covers it, and




364            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
not by the rays of the great celestial luminary.
Philip would not have picked up the dropped pencil
of Titian, and would not have said, when presenting
it to him: "You are worthy of being waited upon
by an Emperor."  Thus spoke Charles. Let us see
how Philip, in his turn, treated a painter. In 1581,
he was on his way to Lisbon, and passed through
Badajoz, where the famous Morales, surnamed the
"Divine, was living. He sent for the artist. We
do not presume to imagine what a Francis the First,
or a Louis the Fourteenth, would have said on such
an occasion, but we are sure that it would have been
something worthy of royalty, and of the majesty of
genius which bent, like a humble vassal, before the
majesty of the throne. What were the most gracious words which  Philip's heart suggested to
Philip's mind? He looked with his cold gray eyes
at the great painter whom he had summoned to his
presence, and found nothing better to say than:
"You are very old, Morales."  "Aye, and very
poor, sire," was the emphatic reply. Philip could
not but take the hint which he had provoked, and
granted the artist an annual pension of 300 ducats,
which his advanced age prevented him from enjoying long. Out with such a man! We have no patience with him. He, forsooth, a patron of the arts!
He may at times have paid well, perhaps, and that
is all. But is genius a base born varlet, that he is
to be satisfied with mere wages? Is he not entitled
to something else? We have lived, thank God, to




PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.         365
see Royalty make way for Humboldt to pass. That
is the something more which was wanted. It is to
the praise of our age that the sceptres of the Kingdoms of the earth have learned not to treat, like
an intrusive upstart, the sceptre of the intellectual
world.
Philip, on his death-bed, had complained that
"Heaven, which had granted him so many Kingdoms,
had refused him a son capable of governing them."
He does not seem to have thought of asking himself
what he had done with the rich inheritance which
had been bequeathed to him by his father.  The
judgment of history must be, that he did very little
for the welfare and progressive improvement of the
condition of those whom Providence had intrusted
to his care.  "If I live long enough," had said his
contemporary, Henry IV, "every peasant in France
shall have a chicken in his pot every Sunday."
Philip lived long, and yet no peasant's home in his
dominions was made more cheerful or comfortable
by his exertions. On the contrary, what was bad
when he ascended the throne, had grown worse,
when he descended into the tomb. He left Spain
in a state of rapid and hopeless decadence, which he
had never attempted to arrest. He had torpified
her and everything else which had come within the
reach of his fatal influence. His own son and heir
had grown by his side hardly with the capacity of
generating a thought and the faculty of having a
will of his own.  Philip  the Third became a




366            PHILIP II. OF SPAIN.
crowned slave-a being who was as anxious to forego power as his father had been not to delegate a
particle of it. Philip IV., was, if possible, a still
greater imbecile as a King, although a good-natured
individual, amiably fond of dramatic poetry, in the
innocuous composition of which he loved to indulge,
and could not have lived without a master.  Charles
IT., the last of his race, was an idiotic maniac, who
thought himself bewitched; and when his wretched
existence ceased, the Crown was transferred to one
of the descendants of that Henry whom  Philip II.
had done so much to exclude from  the throne of
France.  The Austrian dynasty had lasted about
one hundred and eighty-five years.  It began in a
blaze of glory which, for a while, concealed the deleterious effects of tyranny and maladministration, and,
having destroyed the antique liberties of Spain, it
ended, as it were, by a decree of stern justice, in
premature  decrepitude, in inconcealable humiliation and abject lunacy.  It is well. Let the judgments of God be recorded in the high court of
history.
THE END.