BOOK V

II MARIE ANNE OF NEUBURG

Almost simultaneously with the death of Marie Louise an event happened which to a large extent altered the political balance of Europe, and placed at further disadvantage the French partisans in Madrid. The Prince of Orange had surprised the world by becoming King of England, practically without opposition. It was no longer a shifty Stuart with French sympathies and an itching palm for the bribes of Louis who directed the policy of Great Britain, but a prince whose very existence was bound up in the exclusion of France from Flanders; a prince, moreover, under whom England and Holland were for the first time really united. The coalition against Louis was infinitely strengthened thereby, and Spain, with Mariana at the helm, was now less likely than ever to shirk the fulfilment of her obligations under the Treaty of Augsburg. Madrid thereafter became for a time a prime centre of international intrigues, aimed at the exclusion of French interest from the Peninsula. Charles had no personal desire to marry again. He was afraid of fresh people about him; he was overborne with the responsibilities of his great position, and, although he was only twenty-eight, his feeble powers of mind and body were already on the wane. Left to himself, he would have desired nothing but to throw up matrimony as a failure, so far as he was concerned, and live in peace, after his own fashion, until on his deathbed he left his realm to an heir of his own choosing.

But the antagonistic factions that divided his Court between them decided that such a course was quite impossible. It could hardly have been with the hope, as they professed, that issue would be more likely from a second marriage than it had been from the first, for Charles had been really enamoured with Marie Louise, who had been his consort during the best period of such vigour as he ever possessed. It is more likely that the haste to get him married was prompted by the desire of the intriguers to have by his side, when he was called upon to settle the succession, a wife favourable to the views of the dominant party. Badgered and pestered on all sides, the poor creature, always anxious to do what he was told was his duty, consented to take another wife.

The opponents of the German interest at first suggested a princess of Portugal, but Mariana and her friends took care that the negotiations should fall through; and, at the Queen-Mother’s instance, Charles consented to leave the choice of a fit bride for him to his uncle and brother-in-law, the Emperor Leopold. The latter, who had only one daughter by his first wife the Infanta Margarita, Mariana’s daughter, had married as his second wife, by whom he had sons, Eleanor of Neuburg-Bavaria, daughter of the Elector Palatine, Duke of Neuburg. This lady had a sister of twenty-two, Marie Anne of Neuburg; and upon her the choice of the Emperor fell to be the wife of Charles II., King of Spain.

Three months after Marie Louise died the marriage treaty was signed; and on the 18th August 1689, late at night in the quaint Bavarian town of Neuburg on the Danube, the tall, angular girl with hard eyes and mouth, was led by the Spanish ambassador through the bedizened throng of princes and princesses of Austria, Bavaria and Hesse, who crowded the church of the Jesuits, to be wedded to her nephew, the young King of Hungary, the Emperor’s heir, as proxy for the King of Spain, the officiating priest being her brother, Prince Alexander. The marriage was regarded by all Europe as a pledge that thenceforward Spain would be firmly united with the Germanic interests against Louis XIV., and the challenge was promptly accepted by the French King. Thenceforward, for seven years, all Europe was at war; and Spain, which only needed rest, was forced not only to waste blood and treasure upon foreign fields, but to fight for the integrity of its own soil in Catalonia, North Africa and America.

England, under the Dutch King, had taken an active part in promoting an alliance which drew Spain closer to the Teutonic league; and only an English fleet was available to convey the new Queen of Spain in safety to her husband’s realm. Through Cologne and Rotterdam, Marie Anne and her train of Germans slowly travelled to Flushing in the late autumn of 1689, costly jewels meeting her as gifts, now from her husband, now from her gratified mother-in-law, who regarded her coming as a triumph for herself.[327] At Flushing a powerful English fleet, under Admiral Russell, awaited the bride; and after much delay, and not a few mishaps, the squadron sailed for Spain late in January 1690. The intention had been to land the Queen at the port of Santander; and her Spanish household was on the road thither to receive her, when news reached them that Corunna had been chosen as a better harbour, and to the extreme north-west corner of Spain they wended their way. Bad weather, as is not unusual in the Bay of Biscay in mid-winter, made the voyage of the Queen a dangerous and difficult one; and on approaching Corunna it was found that the storm was too violent for the ships to enter. Colonel Stanhope, the English ambassador, who accompanied the Queen to Spain, says:[328] ‘We were forced into a small port called Ferrol, three leagues short of the Groyne (_i.e._, Corunna), and by the ignorance of a Spanish pilot our ships fell foul one with another, and the admiral’s ship was aground for some hours, but got off clear without any damage.’

To Ferrol came hurrying the Spanish household from Corunna, with the inevitable Mansfeldt, all not a little ruffled at this game of hide-and-seek with the German Queen in the most inclement season of the year; and at length, on the 6th April, after nearly a fortnight’s stay on board of Russell’s ship in the harbour of Ferrol, Marie Anne and a great train of German, English and Spanish attendants landed in the barges of the English squadron, whose decorations and the smartness of the oarsmen aroused the surprised admiration of the Spaniards.[329] Though the officials did their best to give Marie Anne a stately welcome at Corunna, and the Count de Lemos entertained her and her Court at a splendid festival at his house at Puente de Ume, all was not harmonious. The general feeling in Spain was against the German connection, and especially against the ruinous war with France that it entailed, and Count Mansfeldt, the imperial ambassador, was especially detested. The people at large firmly believed that he had connived at the poisoning of Marie Louise, and his overbearing manners had offended the courtiers.

‘I find,’ writes Stanhope, ‘that the Queen’s reception has been much meaner than it would have been out of a pique the Spanish grandees have against Count Mansfeldt, who was preferred before them all to the honour of bringing her over, by the favour of the Queen-Mother and contrary to the advice of the Council of Castile.’[330] Nor did the demeanour of Marie Anne mend matters, for, even thus early, her stiff imperious manner and her hasty temper struck a chill in the hearts of the Spaniards, who place so high a value upon an amiable exterior. Dressed in the traditional Spanish garb, which suited her unbending mien, the Queen sat unmoved at the bullfights, tourneys, masquerades and other festivities offered in her honour by the storied cities through which she passed on her way to Valladolid. Nobles who knelt to greet her received but a cold recognition of their compliments, and the cheers of the populace awoke no smile of gratification upon the lips of Marie Anne of Neuburg.

Charles was not an eager wooer this time, and awaited calmly the coming of his new wife to Valladolid. On Ascension Day, 4th May 1690, he first met his bride. There was little or no pretence of affection on either side; but from the first Marie Anne took the lead and imposed her will upon her husband. The marriage feasts at Valladolid and the stereotyped gaieties that throughout Spain celebrated the marriage, pleased the thoughtless, but the more reflecting knew that the war for which Spain was being again squeezed dry by every empirical resource that ingenuity and ignorance of finance could devise, was a direct result of the series of alliances that the German marriage cemented, and many were the whispered curses uttered against the boorish Germans and Englishmen, who were not only disrespectful, but heretics to boot. With exactly the same ceremonial as had marked the entry of the beautiful Marie Louise into the capital ten years before, Marie Anne rode from the Buen Retiro to the old Alcazar through the crowded streets, on the 22nd May 1690. Again, behind the half-closed jalousies, in the house of Count Oñate in the Calle Mayor, over against the church of St. Philip, Charles II. and his mother, growing visibly old now, witnessed the passing of the new Queen.

The triumph of Mariana at the coming of a German bride for her son was short lived. The time that Marie Anne had spent at the Buen Retiro previous to the State entry had been sufficient to show the mother-in-law that she had met her match, and that here there was no gentle, submissive, young creature—no thoughtless beauty who would ruin herself if encouraged to go her own way, like poor Marie Louise—but a hard, passionate woman, who was determined, whatever happened to Spain, to make the best of her opportunities for her own advantage. Mariana, in accordance with her usual policy, endeavoured at first to co-operate harmoniously with her daughter-in-law, in order to gain predominance in the partnership afterwards. The sole minister, Oropesa, had done his best to relieve the suffering country, and his financial reforms had effected some improvement; but with the renewal of the war on land and sea, the economies were soon swallowed up, and the penury became as pressing as ever. The minister’s subordinates were rapacious and corrupt to an extent unexampled even in Spain, and offices, dignities, titles, and pensions were openly put up to the highest bidder. Oropesa, though fairly honest himself, had an ambitious, greedy wife, who increased his unpopularity; and when Marie Anne arrived in Madrid, the party inimical to the minister was already powerful.

Mariana had been Oropesa’s patron, but when the new Queen, for whose aims it was necessary to form a party in Spain, sided with the enemies of the minister, Mariana dared not take the unpopular and weaker side, and reluctantly agreed with her daughter-in-law that Oropesa and the corrupt crew that followed him should be deposed. Their principal abettors were the King’s confessor, Father Matilla, the Archbishops of Toledo (Cardinal Portocarrero) and Saragossa, the Constable of Castile, and the Secretary of State, Lira, formerly a creature of Oropesa. Marie Anne and the confessor gave the poor King no rest. Charles was deeply attached to Oropesa; he dreaded new people about him; and for a time he refused to dismiss his minister. Marie Anne suffered, when contradicted, from hysterical nervous crises, that were said to threaten her life, and every one, from her husband downward, went in mortal fear of provoking an attack by saying anything displeasing to her.[331] The confessor Matilla finally threatened the King that he would not give him absolution, unless he did his duty to the country by dismissing Oropesa.

Charles, beset on all sides, at first told everything to Oropesa himself, but that made matters worse; and he then repeated to each party exactly what the other said, with the result that the palace itself became a hotbed of scandal, hatred, and all uncharitableness. At length Marie Anne had her way, and Charles sent for his minister with tears in his eyes and told him that his enemies had demanded his retirement. ‘They wish it,’ sobbed the unhappy man, ‘and I must agree to it:’ and then, in the deepest sorrow, he dismissed the best minister he had ever had, in obedience to a palace intrigue led by his German wife. Before Oropesa went into banishment at the end of June 1691, he sought an interview with the Queen, but was refused, and Mariana with difficulty was prevailed upon to receive her former instrument; her ungracious farewell of him being to tell him that he ought to have gone long before.[332]

A sort of commission of government was then formed entirely composed of men in the interests of Marie Anne; and thenceforward all method and regularity in the administration disappeared. The King referred questions submitted to him to any person who happened to be near him, and the letters of Colonel Stanhope at the time testify to the impossibility of getting any official business done at all. The country was in the midst of war; the French were masters of the best part of Catalonia, and as the English ambassador reports, the Spaniards had not 4,000 men there in all, fit for service, and in four months’ vigorous recruiting only 1,000 men could be got. A handful of men, he says, dashing down from the French frontier, could easily capture Madrid itself, as not a soldier is between the Pyrenees and the capital: and, such was the confusion, that it was dangerous to drive out a mile from the walls of Madrid for fear of violence and robbery.

Marie Anne with her camarilla was mistress of the situation, and then Mariana, when it was difficult to regain her lost power, discovered what the aims of her German daughter-in-law were. It will be recollected that Mariana’s daughter, the Infanta Margaret, Empress, had died, leaving one daughter married to the Elector of Bavaria, and it was naturally her son, the boy Prince of Bavaria, to whom Mariana had looked to inherit the Spanish crown, in default of issue to Charles, and in accordance with the will of Philip IV. Marie Anne’s mission from the Emperor and his second wife was, however, quite a different one, and aroused in Mariana the hottest indignation when she fully understood it. The plan was to put aside both the female lines descended from the daughters of Philip iv., Maria Theresa, Queen of France, and the Empress Margaret, and to claim the succession of the Emperor’s second son by his second marriage with Marie Anne’s sister, by virtue of his male descent from the Emperor Ferdinand, brother of Charles V.

Marie Anne had around her a gang of blood-suckers almost as rapacious as herself, and, so long as they were Spaniards, the people suffered in silence.[333] But the Queen’s most intimate councillors were Germans, who, undeterred by the fate of Nithard, vied with the Spaniards in grasping greed: and this aroused against Marie Anne the hatred of all who did not share in the booty. The strongest spirit in the Queen’s entourage was the Baroness Berlips, to whom the crowd had given the nickname of ‘the partridge,’ from a slight resemblance in her name to the name of the bird in Castilian. Another German member was one Henry Jovier, a lame man of infamous character, who had served in the Spanish army, and to these after the first few months was added the Queen’s Capuchin confessor Father Chiusa, also a German, who was brought purposely to replace the Jesuit confessor first appointed, the latter having been found not sufficiently pliant for the place.

This was the gang that principally advised the Queen in her measures, and, with a few Spanish grandees, especially the Duke of Montalto and the Admiral of Castile, practically formed the government. Mariana was treated with the greatest _hauteur_ by her daughter-in-law, but had some of the ablest men in Spain on her side, of whom Cardinal Portocarrero was the most influential. The populace cordially hated Marie Anne, and dreaded the imperial domination of Spain which she represented; whilst she took no pains to disguise her contempt for them. Louis XIV., in describing the state of affairs shortly after this in his instructions to his ambassador, Harcourt, says: ‘The Queen has acquired such a dominion over the spirit of her husband that it may be said that she alone reigns as sovereign of Spain.... The authority of the Queen, however, is founded rather upon the fear of her anger than upon any love for her on the part of the nation. There is no people in the world so sensitive of praise as the Spaniards; and consequently none who are so much affected by contempt. The Queen professes contempt for the whole nation, and, as offensive discourse is the only revenge of those who are excluded from power, it is not surprising to hear all the evil things that the public detestation causes to be said about her. It is, however, very true that she gives plenty of reasons for the reproaches levelled against her with regard to her avidity in receiving and extorting presents; and there is no one more ingenious than she in finding excuses for appropriating everything that is most valuable in Madrid, and for amassing every day fresh treasure for herself.’[334]

In the spring of 1683 the King’s weakness became so alarming that the physicians almost abandoned hope, and the intrigues around him grew in intensity. The last successful effort of Marie Louise before her death had been to extract from her husband a solemn promise that he would never cede to the persuasions of Mariana to appoint a successor to the crown until he had received the last sacrament on his deathbed; and the King had managed so far to withstand all pressure put upon him to do so. The pressure was redoubled now, especially by Marie Anne, who took the opportunity of his illness to urge him to summon the Archduke Charles to Madrid, and adopt him as his successor. When the unfortunate King was wavering some one, probably Cardinal Portocarrero, warned him of the certain consequences, and whilst the hesitation continued the King partially recovered.

Whilst the Court was thus given over to discord the condition of the country grew worse and worse. The Marquis of Mancera told Stanhope that the King was only nominally sovereign of the realms of Aragon. Spain, but for the power of her allies, was absolutely defenceless, and the public distress had reached to such an extent that famine stalked unchecked through the land, and to protect the capital from depletion of food, a strict cordon was placed around it, to search every one entering or leaving the city. The Duke of Montalto had managed to ingratiate himself with the Queen sufficiently to obtain recognition as minister; and his impracticable remedy was to divide the country into four autonomous provinces, ruled by viceroys practically independent of a central government. Against this violation of the constitutions all Spain cried aloud. ‘These disasters coming so thick,’ writes Stanhope in July 1694, ‘has raised a very high ferment in the minds of people here, which expresses itself in great insolencies to the great men as they pass in the streets, and to one of the greatest even in the King’s palace: and the royal authority itself begins to lose its veneration, several scandalous pasquins being fixed in several public places, magnifying the great King of France and with very little respect to his Catholic Majesty, inasmuch as if Mr. Russell had not appeared with his squadron as he did, it is generally believed some public scandals would have followed.’

A few months later the same correspondent writes that the hatred of the public had greatly increased the strength of the faction opposed to Marie Anne, whose great influence over the King they intended to destroy; beginning if possible with the banishment of her bosom friend, Baroness Berlips. ‘This lady’s son, Baron Berlips, lately made his entry here, as envoy from the King of Poland, and as he went to his audience in the King’s coach, a company of ruffians came to the coach side giving him and his mother very ill names; one of them saying, ‘Let us kill the dog.’ Another replied, ‘Not now, for he is in the King’s coach.’ Nothing is so much talked about at present as ousting the Berlips, and then they think their monarchy safe.’

Cardinal Portocarrero, who was the Queen’s prime opponent, grew in boldness as he saw that public feeling was on his side, and both he and Mariana, when she could obtain access to her son, implored him to withstand the pressure of his termagant wife, and decline to divert the succession from that laid down by his father’s will, which made the Prince of Bavaria his heir. At the end of 1694 the Cardinal presented a formal State paper to the King, urging the expulsion of Marie Anne’s German camarilla and the royal confessor Matilla, who were ruining the country by placing and maintaining in power men utterly unworthy to administer the government. The wretched King, between the hectoring of his wife, the exhortations of his mother, the warnings of rival churchmen, and the clamours of his people, swayed first to one side, and then to the other, hating to discuss what was to take place when he was dead; yet hearing of very little else. His health, in the meanwhile, visibly declined; and all parties thought that there was no time to waste. The Queen feeling probably the need for some stronger personality near her than Berlips, and the few other inferior Germans who formed her council, soon caused herself to be reinforced by an imperial ambassador, Count Harrach, one of the ablest diplomatists in the Emperor’s service, and the party of old Mariana and her Bavarian grandson fell into the background.

Mariana, indeed, was now almost past struggling; afflicted by a mortal disease and abandoned by her physicians. She resorted, as usual, to charms and quackery of the most revolting description;[335] but, in spite of incantations and empirical devices, Mariana in May 1696 ended her turbulent life, leaving the question of the succession still in the balance.[336] With the death of the old Queen it was thought that the chance of the little Bavarian prince had disappeared; and Marie Anne pushed more energetically than ever the claims of her nephew, the Archduke Charles. Soon the King fell so seriously ill again that his life was despaired of, and the attempts of the Queen to obtain a will in the favour of the Archduke were redoubled. Like all semi-imbeciles, however, Charles, when once an idea had been drilled into his head, clung to it tenaciously; and though, for the sake of peace, he seemed to agree with his wife, he did not forget his father’s will and his mother’s injunction, that his own sister’s descendants had a better right to succeed him than a distant relative like the Archduke. Count Benavente, his lord of the bedchamber, although appointed by Marie Anne, was secretly against the Austrian; and, with his knowledge and that of Cardinal Portocarrero alone, Charles signed a secret will, appointing his great-nephew the child prince of Bavaria heir to his crown.

Once again he recovered sufficiently to rise from his bed; and Stanhope wrote on the 19th September 1696; ‘The King’s danger is over for a time, but his constitution is so very weak and broken, much beyond his age, that it is feared what may be the success of another attack. They cut his hair off in this sickness, which the decay of nature had almost done before, all his crown being bald. He has a ravenous stomach, and swallows all he eats whole; for his nether jaw stands out so much that his two rows of teeth cannot meet; to compensate which he has a prodigious wide throat, so that a gizzard or a liver of a hen passes down whole, and his weak stomach not being able to digest it he voids it in the same manner.’

No sooner was the immediate danger over than Marie Anne wormed out of the King that he had made his will in favour of the Bavarian. Her rage and indignation knew no bounds, and she upbraided the King with hysterical violence, to which he retorted by childish outbursts, leading to the smashing of crockery, furniture, and the like, and usually ending in tears. Oropesa, who had just returned to Court reconciled to Marie Anne, added his persuasions to those of the Queen and the threats of the confessor, but for a time without success. In November 1696 Stanhope reports that the King was still very ill, and obliged to keep his bed: ‘although they sometimes make him rise out of his bed, much against his will and beyond his strength, the better to conceal his illness abroad. He is not only extremely weak in body, but has a great weight of melancholy and discontent upon his spirits, attributed in a great measure to the Queen’s continual importunities to make him alter his will.’

At length, in September 1697, the sick man could withstand the pressure no longer; and during another grave attack,[337] at the instance of his wife and Harrach, tore up the will appointing the Prince of Bavaria his heir. Portocarrero had gone so far as to threaten to call the Cortes together to confirm the will, and had exhorted the King to stand firm, but he had been powerless as against the strong will of Marie Anne. For a long time, however, Charles still held out against making another will in favour of the Austrian; and only, at last, by threats and cajolery was he induced to write a letter to the Emperor asking him to send the Archduke to Spain with ten or twelve thousand men, on the pretext that they were required for the defence of Catalonia.

But the gigantic armaments needed by Louis XIV. to face all Europe victoriously, as he had done, was exhausting the resources of France, and peace was in the air. The need also for French agents to have a good chance in Madrid to push the succession claim also made Louis pliant; and when the Peace of Ryswick was signed in October 1697, the world was surprised at the generous terms accorded by the victor to Spain. With every chance of success, then, Louis having restored the territory he had conquered, he could pose as the true friend of Spain, ready to champion the rights of his descendants by Maria Theresa, the eldest daughter of Philip, against the unpopular Germans, to succeed to the Spanish throne. There was much lost ground for the French to make up; for the German factions had been in sole possession ever since the death of Marie Louise in 1690; but the death of Mariana had left some of her friends in the market, and all classes of Spaniards were sick to death of Germans; so, as soon as the peace was signed, the Marquis d’Harcourt hurried to Madrid as French ambassador, primed with instructions, and supplied with means to re-constitute the French party in Spain, and defeat, if possible, the machinations of Queen Marie Anne.

The first effect of the peace was to stop the project of bringing an Austrian army to Spain under the Archduke, and also the plan of the Elector of Bavaria to put in an appearance to counteract the Archduke’s presence. The arrival of Harcourt at Madrid soon afterwards put a new complexion on affairs there. Stanhope writes, on the 14th March 1698, when the King had fallen again dangerously ill: ‘Our Court is in great disorder: the grandees all dog and cat, Turk and Moor. The King is in a languishing condition, not in so imminent a danger as last week, but so weak and spent as to his principle of life, that all I can hear is pretended, amounts only to hopes of preserving him some weeks, without any probability of his recovery. The general inclination as to the succession is altogether French; their (_i.e._ the Spaniards’) aversion to the Queen having set them against all her countrymen: and if the French King will content himself that one of his younger children be King of Spain, without pretending to incorporate the two monarchies, he will find no opposition, either from grandees or common people.... The King is so very weak he can scarcely lift his hand to his head to feed himself, and so extremely melancholy, that neither his buffoons, dwarfs, nor puppet-shows, all of which have shown their abilities before him, can in the least divert him from fancying everything that is said or done is a temptation of the devil, and never thinking himself safe but with his confessor and two friars by his side, whom he makes lie in his chamber every night.’[338]

In such circumstances as these it was evident to the Queen’s opponents that a bold move must be made at once or she would win. Her most powerful abettor with the King was the confessor, Father Matilla; the ostensible ministers, the Admiral of Castile,[339] Montalto and Oropesa, after many wrangles with her, agreeing to let her have a free hand with her husband, if they were allowed to take a fair share of the national plunder; the real government behind them being the Queen and her camarilla. The only man near the King who was inclined to favour the Bavarian heir was the lord chamberlain, Count Benavente, to whom one night, late in March 1698, Charles mumbled that he was very unhappy and uneasy in his conscience, and should like to see Cardinal Portocarrero.

The Cardinal Archbishop, who had been a close friend of Mariana’s, and was a man of ability, had been carefully excluded from the King’s chamber by Marie Anne. It was eleven o’clock at night, but swift secret messengers were soon at the Cardinal’s door; and before midnight, unknown to the Queen, the primate stood by the King’s bed. Charles opened all the troubles of his terror-stricken soul to the friend of his dead mother: how the violence of his wife and the harshness of the confessor, Matilla, frightened him into adopting a course which his conscience told him was wrong, and he prayed the primate to help him with advice in this dire strait. Portocarrero was nothing loath. Hurrying from the palace, he hastily convened a meeting of his friends. Count Monterey, the Marquis of Leganés, Don Sebastian de Cotes, Don Francisco Ronquillo, the idol of the populace, and Don Juan Antonio Urraca.

What was to be done, and who should do it, before the Queen could banish them all? Monterey, in his stumbling speech, pointed out the danger of acting through the King at all, seeing that the Queen could twist him round her finger and make him alter any resolution he adopted, as she had done before. The best course, he said, would be for the Cardinal to frequent the King’s chamber, ostensibly to give spiritual consolation, and then very gradually to prepare the King’s mind for a change. Others thought that this process was too slow, since the King might slip through their hands after all, and Leganés advised that the Cardinal should immediately urge the King to order the arrest and imprisonment of the detested Admiral of Castile, the Duke of Rio Seco. ‘His only escort,’ said Leganés, ‘were four knavish poets and a couple of buffoons,’ whilst he, Leganés, had plenty of arms at home and two hundred soldiers in his pay, and could seize the most objectionable ministers at once. Then turbulent Ronquillo had his say. They must strike higher than the Admiral. The Queen as well must be seized as soon as her henchman was laid by the heels, and the Huelgas at Burgos should be her future place of confinement. Let us be practical, said Monterey, sneering at Ronquillo for a fool: if we offer violence to the Queen the excitement will kill the King before we can get a will or decree executed. We must act more cautiously than that. Then the two angry nobles clapped their hands to their swords, and were for fighting it out on the spot, until the Cardinal separated them, and wise old Cotes, with his quiet voice, calmly gave his opinion. It would be easy for the Cardinal to obtain such a decree as that required, but the Queen would get it revoked the next morning more easily still, and then, what would happen to all of us? Let us, he said, strike at the trunk by all means, if possible, and get rid of the Queen: but how? Before that can be done we should put Matilla, the confessor, out of the way. The King hated and feared him already, and only yesterday refused to speak to him: let the Cardinal and Benavente advise the King to change his confessor, and the next step will be easy. This seemed good advice; but the jealous hidalgos then fell to quarrelling as to who the new confessor should be, with the result that the choice was ultimately left to the Cardinal.

The next morning Cotes suggested to his colleagues a certain modest professor of theology at Alcalá, one Father Froilan Diaz, for the post. He was near enough to the capital to be brought thither without delay, and would be humble enough to do as he was told: and so it was decided to secure the great appointment to Father Diaz. There was no lack of messengers to carry to him from the conspirators the news of his coming elevation, for each of them, especially Ronquillo, wished to gain the credit of proposing it; and the next day the astounded professor found himself already by anticipation a person to be courted by the greatest grandees in the land.

One day, early in the morning, in the first week in April, the sick King lay in bed listening dreamily to some music being played in the ante-chamber, the door between the rooms being open. Father Matilla and a crony of his, one Dr. Parra, were quietly chatting in one of the deep window recesses of the ante-chamber; when suddenly Count Benavente entered unannounced, accompanied by a stout, fresh-coloured ecclesiastic; and, without saluting Matilla, they walked straight through into the King’s bedroom, which Benavente alone was entitled to do, as lord chamberlain. Matilla was keen-witted, and saw at a glance what it meant. Turning to his friend, he said, ‘Goodbye: this business is ending just as it ought to have begun;’ and with that he hurried out of the palace and to the monastery of his order in Madrid.

Spies had already carried to Marie Anne and the Admiral reports of mysterious confabulations of their enemies, but they knew not where the blow was to fall. At eleven o’clock the King usually dined; and when Marie Anne, according to custom, entered the room that morning, to sit by his side whilst he ate, she learnt for the first time from the disjointed babble of the sick man, that he was free from Matilla, and had a new confessor.[340] Marie Anne was aghast at the news, though she made no sign of disapproval to her husband; but the moment she could leave the King’s side, she summoned the Admiral and her other advisers, and considered the ill tidings. None knew who would be the next victim, and most of them thought that Matilla had betrayed them. Panic and bewilderment reigned amongst the chosen Camarilla. Some were for striving to reinstate Matilla, some for punishing him, others were for saving themselves by resignation and flight, but one great churchman, the head of the Franciscan order, Folch de Cardona, kept his head, and advised calmness. Matilla was exonerated and consulted; but when he learned that the Queen and the Admiral had known of Portocarrero’s meeting before the blow fell, he broke down. ‘Oh,’ he cried, ‘if I had only known one short half hour before, I could have saved us all:’ and then, though nominally pensioned and banished to Salamanca, he fell ill of grief, fever, or poison, and died within a week of his dismissal.

Diaz did not seem very terrible at first; for his methods with the King were soothing, and he moved slowly. He took Matilla’s place on the Council of the Inquisition, and at once became a power in the land; but he was all politeness and gentle saintliness to Marie Anne, and even she, suspicious as she was, began to think that she might dominate still if she could confine Father Diaz to his spiritual functions. In the course of a few weeks after the change, the Court was moved to Toledo, but there the mob, who loved the Ronquillo brothers, and hated the Queen, knowing that she had suffered a defeat, made her feel that her power was on the wane. ‘The Queen,’ writes Stanhope, ‘is very uneasy at the impudent railleries of the Toledo women, who affront her every day publicly in the streets, and insult the Admiral to his face. There is besides a great want of money; for the King’s new confessor having persuaded him before he left Madrid to publish a decree forbidding the sale of all governments and offices, either in present or reversion, as a duty of conscience ... the superintendent of the revenues declares that he is not able to find money for his Majesty’s subsistence, all branches of the revenue being anticipated for many years, and he is now debarred from selling offices, which was the only resource he had left.’

In the meanwhile, the French ambassador, Harcourt, was busy buying friends at Court, though most of old Mariana’s late adherents still preferred, as the King undoubtedly did, the Bavarian Prince. The people at large were strongly in favour of a French prince, descended from Maria Theresa, ‘though they would rather have the devil,’ as Stanhope says, ‘than see France and Spain united.... It is scarce conceivable the abhorrence they have for Vienna; most of which is owing to the Queen’s very imprudent conduct; insomuch that, in effect, that party is included in her own person and family. They have much kinder thoughts of the Bavarian, but still rather desire a French Prince to secure them against war.’

The intrigues of the French ambassador were met by increased activity on the part of the Queen, who left Charles no rest in pushing the claims of her nephew the Archduke. The poor King was sick of the whole business, and only wished to be left alone, and for his Bavarian nephew to succeed him. The King will not bear to hear talk of business of any kind, and when sometimes the Queen cannot contain herself, he bids her let him alone, and says she designs to kill him.’[341] A few weeks later (25th June) the English ambassador sent this vivid picture of the invalid: ‘Our gazettes here tell us every week that his Catholic Majesty is in perfect health.... It is true that he is every day abroad, but _hæret lateri lethalis arundo_; his ankles and knees swell again, his eyes bag, the lids are as red as scarlet, and the rest of his face a greenish yellow. His tongue is “tied,” as it is called, that is, he has such a fumbling in his speech, that those near him hardly understand him; at which he sometimes grows angry, and asks if they all be deaf.’

But, with all his feebleness, Charles still resisted the pressure upon him either to make a will or to summon the Archduke. Marie Anne was persistent; and at the end of June her importunity produced a dangerous fit that nearly ended the King’s life there and then, after which Stanhope writes: ‘There is not the least hope of this King’s recovery; and we are every night in apprehensions of hearing he is dead in the morning, though the Queen lugs him out every day, to make the people believe he is well till her designs are rife, which I rather fear will prove abortive; for, by the best information I can get of the three pretenders, her candidate is like to have the fewest votes. Upon old Count Harrach’s pressing the King to have the Archduke Charles sent for to Spain ... he gave no answer, but turning to the Queen, who was present, said laughing, “Oyga mujer, el Conde aprieta mucho” (Hark, wife, how very pressing the Count is) repeating “very pressing” several times. The French Ambassador “presses” just as much, and the Nuncio, in the Pope’s name, also for the French.’

These signs were not lost on Marie Anne, and she began to turn to the strongest side. Harcourt and his wife were charming and liberal, and had quite captivated the Madrid crowd, who cheered them wherever they went, whilst Harrach and his wife were unattractive and unpopular; but what was more important than anything else, now that Spanish resources were failing, French money was forthcoming to buy Baroness Berlips and the Queen’s German hangers-on. The Marquise of Harcourt paid assiduous court to Marie Anne, who, seeing the impossibility of her own candidate, listened, beguiled, to the clever suggestion of the French that if she would abandon the Emperor’s son, she might continue Queen of Spain by a marriage with the French prince who might succeed Charles.

For a time, in the late autumn of 1698, the French cause suffered a setback. Louis apparently considering that his chance of placing a French prince upon the throne of all the Spanish dominions in face of Europe would be impracticable, revived a scheme that he had agreed upon with the Emperor years before, when Charles was a child; namely, to partition Spain, by agreement with the maritime powers, between the three claimants: a French prince to take Naples, Sicily, and the Basque province, the Prince of Bavaria to reign in Spain itself, and Austria to be contented with Milan. This, when it was divulged, aroused the intensest indignation, not only in Spain, but in Austria and Bavaria. Harcourt and his wife lost their favour at once, and Marie Anne again leaned towards her German kinsmen. What was more important still, the King at last, under pressure which will be presently explained, made a testament declaring the Prince of Bavaria his heir. Marie Anne, the King himself, and the Council, all denied it; but it was soon known to be true, and the French ambassador immediately presented a demand that Cortes should be summoned to settle the succession by vote.

Suddenly, whilst this demand was being laboriously discussed, the news came that the little Bavarian prince, the only descendant of old Mariana except the King, had died, aged six—of poison it was said, in February 1699; and the problem of the succession was changed in a moment. Bribed and cajoled by hopes of remaining Queen of Spain by a second marriage, Marie Anne again seemed inclined to side with those who had been her enemies. Most of the partisans of the Bavarian claimant, including the King himself, and especially Portocarrero, went over to the French view; and the principal reason why Marie Anne held herself in doubt was because she saw those whom she hated all ranged on the side of France.

Whilst this sordid bickering was going on in the palace the distress in the country increased daily, until famine invaded even the capital. The new confessor and Cardinal Portocarrero had, as yet, made no great change in the government; and Marie Anne’s friends were still in office, headed by Oropesa and the Admiral. Ronquillo and his fellow-conspirators were growing impatient for their reward, and incited secretly by their agents, the populace of Madrid broke into revolt in April 1699. A howling mob surrounded the palace, crying for bread. ‘Long live the King, and death to Oropesa,’ was the cry. Inside the palace panic reigned supreme, and poor Charles was like to die with fright, when the rabble demanded fiercely that he should show himself upon the balcony. Marie Anne appeared at the open window undaunted, and told the crowd that the King was asleep. ‘He has slept too long,’ was the reply, ‘wake him’; and at last the King had to appear, looking, as Stanhope says, like a ghost, and moving as if by clock work. Ronquillo! Ronquillo! shouted the mob. We will have Ronquillo for mayor: and in a hurry Ronquillo was sent for and sworn in as mayor, which somewhat appeased the insurgents, who bore him off in triumph. Oropesa’s palace was ablaze, and a rush upon it by the mob had resulted in many of the latter being killed, and cast into a well within the precincts by Oropesa’s servants. Further enraged at this, the populace surged _en masse_ to the King’s palace, clamouring for the heads of Oropesa and the Admiral; and they were with difficulty restrained from invading the royal apartments by the clergy, with raised crucifixes and holy symbols. Again they demanded the presence of the King, who told them that Ronquillo had orders to do everything to satisfy them, and promised, on his oath as a King, that the insurgents should be held harmless for the tumult.

A clean sweep was made of Marie Anne’s friends. The Admiral fled to hiding; and Portocarrero declared that within a week or two he would have Berlips, the Capuchin confessor of the Queen, and the whole gang cleared out of Spain. The day after the tumult Stanhope wrote: ‘The King is very weak, and declines fast. The tumult yesterday, I fear, may have some ill-effect further on his health. It was such as the like never before happened in Madrid in the memory of the oldest men here, and proves, contrary to what they brag of, that there is a mob here as well as in other places.’ The whole aspect of the palace changed as if by magic, and Cardinal Portocarrero was supreme. Marie Anne, cowed by the violence and vituperation of the mob, was glad to lie low, and did not attempt to influence the King, whose health declined every day.

Since the death of the Bavarian claimant in February the matter of the succession had remained in abeyance; and it was evident now that unless the King was indeed very soon to declare his heir by testament he would die with the question still open. But poor Charles shrunk from the execution of an act, which he had always said he would only do in _articulo mortis_, and the persuasions of those about him were always met by a fresh plea for delay. In this deadlock of affairs a course was adopted by the dominant party which will always furnish one of the most repulsive episodes of history. During his first grave attack at the end of 1697, Charles, who was as superstitious as he was ignorant, sent for Rocaberti, the Inquisitor-General, a stern Dominican, and confessed that he believed his illness to be the result of a maleficent charm cast upon him. The Inquisitor replied that he would have the case examined; but he saw no probability of result unless the King would point out some person whom he suspected, or gave some evidence to proceed upon.

There the matter remained until Froilan Diaz was substituted, as has been related, for Matilla as the King’s confessor. Probably as part of a concerted plan to obtain complete control over him, Diaz appeared to agree with Charles in his expressed belief that he was bewitched; and, having heard that an old friend of his in a convent in Galicia, had by many efficacious exorcisms become quite familiar with the evil spirits that he cast out, he consulted the Inquisitor-General Rocaberti, as to whether it would be well to summon the priestly exorciser to the King. The Inquisitor did not like the business, but consented to a letter being written to the Bishop of Oviedo, the exorciser’s spiritual superior, asking him to submit to the latter the question as to the truth of the statement that the King was suffering from diabolical arts. The bishop, determined not to be made the channel of such nonsense, replied that the only witchcraft the King was suffering from was weakness of constitution and a too ready acquiescence in his wife’s will; and he refused to have anything to do with it. Diaz then sent direct to Argüelles the exorciser in July 1698, instructing him to lay upon his breast a paper with the names of the King and Queen written upon it, and summon the devil to ask if the persons whose names were written were bewitched.

Thenceforward for eight or nine months the ghastly mockery went on.[342] The devil announced that the King was bewitched: ‘et hoc ad destruendam materiam generationis in Rege, et eum incapacem ponendum ad regnum administrandum’; the charm having been administered by moonlight when the King was fourteen years old. Repulsive remedies were prescribed which, if administered, would certainly have killed the patient, others were recommended just as hideous but less harmful; and the poor creature was submitted to them. At length, after the will in favour of the Bavarian had been wrung from the King by many months of this ghastly nonsense, it was seen that the exorciser was aiming at gaining influence for himself. He said that the charms had been administered by the King’s mother, and repeated much dangerous political advice that the devil had given, such as to recommend the complete isolation of the King from his wife, and other things less palatable to Portocarrero and the French party; and the exorciser, being able to get no further, was dropped in June 1699.

This was the time when the King was suffering from the shock of the recent tumults, and Stanhope writes: ‘His Catholic Majesty grows every day sensibly worse and worse. It is true that last Thursday they made him walk in the public solemn procession of Corpus, which was much shortened for his sake. However, he performed it so feebly that all who saw him said he could not make one straight step, but staggered all the way; nor could it be otherwise expected after he had had two falls a day or two before, walking in his own lodgings, when his legs doubled under him by mere weakness. In one of them he hurt his eye, which appeared much swelled, and black and blue; the other being quite sunk into his head, the nerves being contracted by his paralytic distemper. Yet it was thought fit to have him make this sad figure in public, only to have it put into the Gazette how strong and vigorous he is.’

At this juncture Marie Anne’s suspicions were first aroused of the witchcraft business by a hint dropped by the King, and she at once set spies upon those who had access to him, and especially upon Diaz the confessor. A very few days convinced her that the ghastly incantations that were being carried on were directed against her, politically and personally. ‘Roaring with very rage,’ she summoned her friends and demanded instant revenge and punishment of the King’s confessor.[343] She was reminded by Folch de Cardona, that as the Inquisitor-General was concerned in the matter, it would be prudent to go cautiously until it was seen how far the Holy Office itself was a party: and, in any case, he said it would be wisest to allow the Inquisition to avenge her rather than for her to do it and thereby make herself more unpopular than she was. It was soon found that the Sacred Tribunal was not concerned; but as Rocaberti, the dreaded chief Inquisitor, had been active in the matter, no one dared to move against Diaz or him, for Inquisitors were dangerous people to touch. Almost immediately afterwards Rocaberti died suddenly, almost certainly poisoned; and then Marie Anne laid her plans to crush Father Diaz the confessor.

Stanhope writes (15th July): ‘The doctors, not knowing what more to do with the King, to save their credit have bethought themselves to say his ill must certainly be witchcraft, and there is a great Court party who greedily catch at and improve the report, which, how ridiculous soever it may sound in England, is generally believed here, and propagated by others to serve a turn. They, finding all their attempts in vain to banish Madame Berlips, think this cannot fail, and are using to find out any colourable pretences to make her the witch.’ It was higher game even than Berlips that they were aiming at. Berlips stood behind the Queen, and one could not be injured without the other.

In September a mad woman, in a state of frenzy, burst into the King’s presence, foaming at the mouth, and cursed him with demoniac shrieks until she was removed by force, leaving Charles in an agony of terror which nearly killed him. The mad woman was followed, and it was found that she lived with two other demoniacs who were under the impression that they were keeping the King subject in their room. This nonsense was conveyed to the King by Diaz, and confirmed the invalid in his conviction that he was under the influence of sorcery. In this belief he ordered that the three women should be exorcised by a famous German monk, who had been brought to Spain as an able exorciser for the King’s benefit. Diaz, who superintended the incantations, unfortunately for himself, dictated questions to the demoniacs which were evidently designed to involve the Queen. Who was it that caused the King’s malady? A beautiful woman, was the answer. Was it the Queen? and to this no distinct reply was given. But the question was enough; and when Marie Anne received a full report of the proceedings, as she did from her spies, she was, of course, furious that an open attempt should be made to cast upon her the blame of the witchcraft.

The first step towards her revenge was to get a new Inquisitor-General in her interest, and she pressed the King to appoint Folch de Cardona, General of the Franciscans. He refused, prompted no doubt by his confessor, and, in spite of Marie Anne’s passionate outbursts of protest, he appointed Cardinal Cordova; to whom the King and the confessor unburdened themselves completely, and told the whole story of the exorcism. From these conferences an extraordinary resolution resulted. The Queen herself was too high to strike at first; but her great friend and late all-powerful minister, the Admiral of Castile, was detested and despised by every one, and might be attacked with impunity to begin with. So it was decided that he, being allied with the devil to cause all the mischief, should be seized by the Inquisition of Granada and closely imprisoned, whilst his household should be incarcerated elsewhere, and his papers seized by the holy office. This could not be done, however, until the new Inquisitor-General’s appointment was ratified by the Pope. Once more Marie Anne and her friends trumped their opponents’ strong suit, for Cardinal Cordova died of poison on the very day that the bull arrived.

Again Marie Anne pressed her husband to appoint one of her tools Inquisitor-General; but Father Diaz was now fighting for his life, and prevented the appointment. Marie Anne then sought out a man who would be acceptable to her opponents, but whom she might buy, and Mendoza, Bishop of Segovia, became Inquisitor-General, bribed by the Queen with the promise of a cardinal’s hat to do her bidding in future. Marie Anne had the whip hand and promptly used it. Stanhope wrote on the 22nd August: ‘As to Court factions, her Majesty is now as high as ever, and the Cardinal of Toledo, who carried everything before him two months ago, now dares hardly to open his mouth. But he is sullen, comes seldom to Court, and talks of retiring to Toledo.’ First the German exorciser was captured, and under torture confessed the details of the exorcism of the three demoniacs when Diaz was present; then the compromising correspondence with the exorciser in Galicia was seized, with all the hints and suggestions made in it to incriminate the Queen. This was sufficient evidence against Diaz, and he was arrested. Everything he had done, he said, was by the King’s orders; and as royal confessor he claimed immunity, his mouth being closed. He was at once dismissed from all his offices, and the King was appealed to by the Inquisitor-General to allow the confessor’s privileges to be dispensed with. Charles could only mumble that they might do justice; but Diaz had a powerful party behind him who took care to spread abroad the story of the Queen’s vengeance, and Diaz, aided by many of his late colleagues on the Council of the Inquisition, fled to the coast, and so to Rome. There he was seized and brought back to Spain; and thenceforward, for many years, there raged around him a great and unparalleled contest between the Council of the Inquisition, which favoured Diaz, and the Inquisitor-General in the interests of the Queen’s vengeance.[344]

Marie Anne had won, so far as the King’s confessor was concerned, but her unpopularity was so great that she gained no ground politically; nor did her German candidate for the succession improve in his chance of success, for Cardinal Portocarrero and his friends filled all the administrative offices, and Marie Anne was powerless. Stanhope wrote in September 1699: ‘One night last week a troop of about three hundred, with swords, bucklers and firearms, went into the outward court of the palace and, under the King’s window, sung most impudent lampoons and pasquins; and the Queen does not appear in the streets without hearing herself cursed to her face.... The pasquins plainly tell her they will pull her out of the palace and put her in a convent, adding that their party is no less than 14,000 strong. This new turn has damped the discourse, which was very hot lately, of the Admiral’s return to Court, and the Cardinal of Toledo is now like to be the great man again.’[345]

Every day some fresh sign was given that Marie Anne’s foes were paramount. ‘Our great German lady, the Countess of Berlips, is going, nor does she go alone; but all the rest of the German tribe are to accompany her, namely, a fine young lady, her niece, a German woman, a dwarf, an eunuch, the Queen’s German doctor, the Capuchin, her confessor, and Father Carapacci ... who, though no German, yet is one of the Queen’s chief agents, and as great an eyesore to the people as any of them. This seems a great reform, but I believe will prove no amendment, for I expect to see others as greedy, if not more so, to take their places.’[346]

The French party was now absolutely paramount; for the money and diplomatic skill of Louis XIV. had been lavishly employed in gaining friends from those who had been in favour of the Bavarian prince; and Marie Anne herself, though she had now the Inquisitor-General on her side, could hardly get a word alone with her dying husband. Charles lingered on in morbid melancholy for many months longer. Like his father, in similar case, he found the royal charnelhouse at the Escorial a resort that suited his humour. On one occasion it is related that, with Marie Anne at his side, he caused the coffins of his relatives to be opened and the bodies exposed to view. He was deeply affected by the sight of the corpse that had once been the beautiful Marie Louise, the wife of his youth, whose dead face he caressed, with tears and promises to join her soon, whilst Marie Anne, as a reply to the King’s affection for his dead French wife, kissed the crumbling hand of old German Mariana, whose enemy she had been on earth.

Whilst the Spanish Court and so-called government were thus employed in degrading superstitions and petty squabbles, the fate of the nation, reduced now to utter impotence, was being discussed and settled by foreign powers. Louis XIV., still desirous, if possible of securing for France without war the portion of Spain’s inheritance which mainly interested him, made early in 1700, another treaty with England and Holland for the partition of Spain between the claimants and others interested, threatening that if the Emperor refused to accept the terms offered the invasion of Spain by France would follow, and the whole inheritance claimed for the Dauphin at the sword’s point. The Emperor indignantly rejected the advance, and also claimed to be sole heir: the Spaniards, and even their moribund King, blazing out in anger with some of their old pride at this unceremonious dismemberment of their ancient realm. Stanhope’s expulsion from Spain followed quickly upon this new attempt at partition, and for a short time the French cause looked black. Then the Austrians, to make their assurance doubly sure, endeavoured to secure Marie Anne firmly to their side by the same means as those that Harcourt had employed to win her for the French faction. They promised that if she aided them the Archduke, her nephew, when he became King of Spain should marry her. The Queen was delighted; and in order to deal one more blow at the French claim, went to her husband and divulged to him, not the Austrian but the former French offer of marriage. Charles was tired of life and utterly muddled with the atmosphere of intrigue in which he lived; but even he protested in impotent passion against his wife being wooed before he was dead, and this increased his dislike of the French claimant, though Louis XIV. recalled Harcourt and disclaimed the offer he had made.

But Cardinal Portocarrero was always by the King’s side, and exercised more influence over him than any one else. He, in his sacred character, warned Charles that it was his duty to his conscience to lay aside personal partialities, and to summon a conference of the most famous theologians and jurisconsults to discuss and decide the question of the succession. Portocarrero took care that such conferences should result in a vote in favour of Louis XIV.‘s young grandson, Philip Duke of Anjou, measures being taken to prevent any future joining of the two realms under one crown. Charles was hard to convince, for he clung to the Empire both by tradition and at the pleading of his wife; and Portocarrero then told him that it was his duty to submit his doubts to the Pope. Charles was devout, and did so. Innocent XI. had all along been an enemy of Austria and a friend of France; and, as Portocarrero of course anticipated, decided in favour of the Duke of Anjou as the legitimate heir.[347]

But still Charles hesitated. Marie Anne was indefatigable in persuading him to favour the Austrian, and always managed to prevent the fateful will being made in Anjou’s favour; distracting her dying husband, even at this pass, with the vain shows, bull fights, tourneys, and the like, which had been for so long the traditional pleasures of his Court. She even endeavoured to make terms with her enemies again, in order to be safe in any eventuality; but Louis XIV. began to speak more haughtily now; threatening war if a single German soldier set foot in Spain or resistance was offered to the partition. There was nothing that Charles and his people dreaded more than the dismemberment of the country, and this frightened the King into looking upon the acceptance of the French claim as the only means of keeping Spain intact. Thus, from day to day, the irresolute monarch turned to one side or another, as his wife or Portocarrero, his fears or his affections, gained the upper hand.

On the 20th September he took to his bed to rise no more, and a few days afterwards received the last sacrament, asking for pardon of all whom he had unconsciously offended. The sick chamber assumed the appearance of a mingled charnel house and toyshop, as the pale figure of the King upon his great bed grew more ghastly and hopeless. All the sacred relics in the capital were crowded into the room; carved saints, blessed rosaries and mouldering human remains, until, to make space for fresh comers, the less renowned objects had to be removed. The Primate of Spain, Portocarrero, made the most of the priestly privilege; and, in the interests of the dying King’s religious consolation, he kept from his side Marie Anne and her allies, the Inquisitor-General and the King’s regular confessor. Alone with the King, the Cardinal admonished him that in order to avoid dying in a state of sin, it was necessary for him to avert war from the country by making a will, leaving his crown to the Duke of Anjou, putting aside all personal leanings and family ties.

Charles could resist no longer. He was in terror; the spectre of sin and devilish temptations always before him, and summoning the Secretary of State, Ubilla, he himself directed him to draft a will in favour of his young French great-nephew, the Duke of Anjou. On the 3rd October 1700, the document was placed before him. Around his bed stood Cardinals Portocarrero and Borgia, and the highest officers of the household; but Marie Anne of Neuburg was not there to see the final shattering of her hopes. With trembling hand Charles the Bewitched took the pen. ‘God alone gives kingdoms,’ he sighed, ‘for to Him all kingdoms belong.’ Then signing in his great uncultured writing; ‘I, the King,’ he dropped the pen, saying, ‘I am nothing now:’ and thus the die was cast, the house of Austria gave place to the house of Bourbon. Marie Anne did not even yet accept defeat meekly. In an interval of partial improvement in the King’s health, she returned to the attack, and with tears and protestations, induced the King to think well again of his Austrian kinsmen. A courier was sent hurrying to Vienna to tell the Emperor, that, after all, the last will would make his son the heir of Spain, and a codicil was signed conferring upon Marie Anne the governorship of any city in Spain or Spanish State in Italy or Flanders in which she might choose to reside after her husband’s death.

Soon afterwards (26th October) a decree was signed by Charles, who seemed then to be dying, appointing a provisional government, headed by Marie Anne, with Portocarrero and other great officers, to rule, pending the arrival of the new King; whilst Portocarrero was nominated to act as Regent if the King, though still alive, might be unable to exercise his functions. With all the terror-stricken devotion that had been traditional in his house, the last few days on earth of Charles the Bewitched were passed, and on the 1st November 1700, the last descendant in the male line of the great Emperor Charles V., died of senile old age before he was forty, the victim of four generations of incest; leaving as his legacy to the world a great war which changed the face of Europe, and decided the future course of civilisation.

The terms of the will had been kept a close secret; and as soon as the King’s death was known, the Palace of Madrid was packed with an eager crowd of nobles and magnates to learn the name of their future king. The will was read solemnly in the presence of Marie Anne and the principal great officers; and soon the news was spread that Spain was free from the house of Austria, which had been the cause of its greatness and its ruin. Marie Anne, at the head of the Council of Regency, had but a short term of power, and, as may be supposed, considering her imperious nature, a far from harmonious one. Louis XIV., however, lost no time; and the bright handsome lad, full of hope and spirit, thenceforward Philip V. of Spain, hurried south to take possession of his inheritance almost before the Emperor had time to protest.

On the 18th February 1701, Philip arrived in Madrid; and his first act was to confirm Portocarrero as his leading minister. Marie Anne had quarrelled with her colleagues before this, and they had complained of her to the young King before his arrival. She had been defeated indeed; for she saw now that the marriage bait that had been held out to her was illusory; and when the order came to her from the new King to leave Madrid before he entered it, she went, full of plans for revenge still, to her place of banishment at Toledo; yet with kindly professions upon her lips, for the large pension of 400,000 ducats settled upon her by Charles, was too valuable to be jeopardised by open opposition to the ruling powers. She was all smiles when young Philip visited her at Toledo soon after his arrival; and she hung around his neck a splendidly jewelled badge of the Golden Fleece as a token of her recognition of his sovereignty. But when the war broke out, and the Archduke, her nephew, with his allies came to fight for the prize he claimed, Marie Anne could hardly be expected to stand quite aloof. In 1706, the victorious Austrian and his allies were carried by the fortune of war into Toledo; and Marie Anne welcomed her nephew with effusive joy as King of Spain; but when the turn of the tide carried Philip V. into power again, a few months later, two hundred horsemen, under the Duke of Osuna, clattered into the courtyard of Marie Anne’s convent retreat at Toledo, and arrested the Queen, carrying her thence as rapidly as horses could travel over the frontier to France.

At Bayonne, Marie Anne lived in retirement for nine years, when a strange revolution of fortune’s wheel brought her back to Spain again triumphant. In the stately Morisco Palace at Guadalajara, Marie Anne passed in affluent dignity the last twenty-six years of life in widowhood, and died in 1740. She lived to see Spain rise from its ashes, a new nation, purged by the fires of war; purified by heroism and sacrifice. The long duel between the Empire and France for the possession of the resources of Spain had ended before the death of Marie Anne in the successful reassertion of Spain to the possession of her own resources. Rulers, men and women, had blindly and ignorantly done their worst; pride, bigotry, and sloth had dominated for centuries the spirit of the nation, as a result of the action which alone had caused Spain to bulk so big in the eyes of the world, and then to sink so low. But at last the evil nightmare of the house of Austria was shaken off, and when the aged widow of Charles II. passed to her rest at Guadalajara, Spaniards were awakening to the stirring message, that Spain might be happier and more truly great in national concentration than when the men-at-arms of the Austrian Philips squandered blood and treasure beyond count, to uphold in foreign lands an impossible pretension, born of ambitions as dead as those who first conceived them.

EPILOGUE

Fire and sword swept Spain clean. The long drawn war of succession broke down much of the old exclusiveness and conceit which had been for two centuries the bane of the Spanish people, and a new patriotic spirit was aroused which proved that the nation was not effete but only drugged. The accession of Philip V. had been looked upon by his grandfather as practically annexing Spain to France. ‘_Il n’y a plus de Pyrénées_,’ he announced; and his first act proved his determination of treating his grandson’s realm as a vassal state of his own. Again it was to a large extent the influence of women which directed the course of Spanish politics, even to the confusion of the _roi soleil_. It has been shown in this history how often feminine influence had been invoked by statesmen to bring Spain to a sympathetic line of policy for their own ends, and how often circumstances had rendered their efforts ineffectual.

The confident anticipations of Louis XIV. that, by rightly choosing his feminine instruments he might use Spain entirely for the aggrandisement of France, were even more conspicuously defeated than any previous attempts had been in a similar direction; for the ladies upon whom he depended were one after the other caught up by the chivalrous patriotism of the Spanish people, newly aroused from the bad dream of a hundred years, and boldly braving Louis, they did their best for Spain and for their own ends, whether France benefited or not.

The bride that Louis chose for his grandson was one from whom no resistance could be expected. She was a mere child, under fifteen, Maria Louisa Gabriela of Savoy, daughter of Victor Amadeus and Anne Marie of Orleans, sister of that Marie Louise, Queen of Spain, whose life has been told in detail in these pages. In September 1701 young Philip went to meet his bride at Barcelona; and even thus early it was seen that he had to face a coalition of all Europe against him. Revolt had been stirred up in Naples; and Philip had hardly time to snatch a brief honeymoon before he was obliged to hurry away to Italy to fight for his crown; leaving the girl whom he had married to rule Spain in his absence and to marshal the elements of defence in a country utterly prostrate and disorganised. Maria Louisa was, of course, entirely inexperienced, but she came of a stout race and never flinched from the responsibilities cast upon her. The young married couple were already deeply in love with each other; and Philip, though only seventeen, had thus early begun to show the strange uxoriousness that in later life became an obsession which made him a mere appanage of the woman by his side; so that Maria Louisa began her strenuous life assured that she would meet with no captious opposition from her husband.

Louis XIV. and Mme. de Maintenon had placed by her side a far stronger personality than Philip; one of the greatest women of her century, whose mission it was to keep the young King and Queen of Spain in the narrow path of French interests. Anne Marie de la Tremouille, Duchess of Bracciano, whom the Spaniards called the Princess of Ursinos, took charge of the young Queen at once when the Piedmontese household was dismissed at the frontier; and through the most troublous period of the great struggle which finally gave the throne to Philip, she ruled the rulers gently, wisely and firmly for their own interests and those of Spain. No cantankerous straitlaced Mistress of the Robes was she, such as the Duchess of Terranova who had embittered the life of the other Marie Louise, but a great lady full of wit and knowledge, and as brave as a lioness in defence of the best interests of those in her charge.

The young Queen herself, when she had been installed in the capital as Regent, showed how changed were the circumstances of a Queen of Spain, now that the dull gloom of the house of Austria had been swept away, and a new Spain was gazing towards the dawn. Nothing could exceed the diligence and ability of this girl of fifteen in administering the government of Madrid in the absence of the new King. Instead of the dull round of devotion and frivolity which had filled the lives of other Queen Consorts, she, with the wise old Princess at her side, worked incessantly. She would sign nothing she did not understand: she insisted upon all complaints being investigated, and reports made direct to her. Supplies of men and money for the war in which Philip was already plunged in Italy, were collected and remitted with an activity and regularity which filled old-fashioned Spaniards with surprise, and encouraged those who possessed means to contribute from their hoards resources previously unsuspected. The manners of the Court were reformed; immorality and vice, so long rampant in Madrid, was frowned at and discouraged; and, instead of allowing the news of the wars in which the King was engaged to filter slowly and incorrectly from the palace to the gossips of the street, the Queen herself read aloud from a balcony to the people below the despatches she daily received from her husband.

All this was enough to make the old Queen Consorts of Spain turn with horror in their porphyry urns at the Escorial; but it came like a breeze of pure mountain air into the miasmatic apathy which had hitherto cloaked the capital; and all Spain plucked up heart and spirit from the energy of this girl of fifteen, with the wise old Frenchwoman behind her. But even they could only administer things as they found them, and the root of the governmental system itself was vicious. Time, and above all knowledge, was required to re-organise the country; and Spaniards grew restive at the foreign auspices under which the reforms were introduced. Maria Louisa and her husband well knew that without French support liberally given, they could never hold their own: for when the King returned to Madrid early in 1703, the Spaniards, who had belonged to the Austrian party in the last reign, had thrown off the mask and fled to join the enemy: and it was clear that no Spaniards would fight to make Spain a dependency of France.

Nothing less than this would satisfy Louis XIV.; and the Princess of Ursinos, who had tried to make the struggle a patriotic one for Spaniards, was warned from Paris that, unless she immediately retired from the country, King Louis would abandon Spain and his grandson to their fate. The Princess went into exile with a heavy heart, and the new French ambassador, Grammont, came when she had departed in 1704, instructed to make a clean sweep of all the national party in Madrid, and to obtain control for the French ministers. But Louis _XIV._ had underrated the power and ability of Maria Louisa, who resented the contemptuous dismissal of her wise mentor, and took no pains to conceal her opposition to the change. Louis sent scolding letters to her, berating her for her presumption in wishing, ‘at the age of eighteen to govern a vast disorganised monarchy,’ against the advice of those so much more experienced than herself. But at last he had to recognise that this girl, with the best part of Spain behind her, held the stronger position; and he took the wise course of conciliating her by re-enlisting and restoring to Spain the offended Princess of Ursinos. In vain his representatives in Madrid assured him that neither the Princess nor the Queen could be trusted to serve French interests blindly. The two women were too clever and too firm to be ignored, and the Princess returned to Madrid in triumph in August 1705, with _carte blanche_ from Louis to do as she judged best to save Spain for the house of Bourbon, at all events.

Thenceforward the Mistress of the Robes governed the Queen, the Queen governed the King, and the King was supposed to govern the country; plunged in war at home and abroad, with the Spanish nobles either on the side of the Austrian or sullen at the foreign influence which pervaded the government measures, even when moderated and held in check by the Princess of Ursinos. At length, when the long war was wearing itself out, and peace was in the air, the stout-hearted little Savoyarde fell sick. She had borne many children to her husband, but only two sons, so far, had lived, Louis, born in 1707, and Ferdinand, born late in 1713. The birth of the latter heralded his mothers death. She had not spared herself in all the strenuous thirteen years of war and tumult, during which she had to a great extent governed Spain; for Philip, when not absent in the field, was an obedient husband; and now, at the dawn of a period of peace at the beginning of 1714, Maria Louisa died at the age of twenty-six.

Philip was still a young man; but the dependence upon his wife, and his long fits of apathy that afterwards led to lunacy, had made him unfit to fulfil the duties of his position without a clever helpmeet by his side. The first result of the death of Maria Louisa was enormously to increase the influence of the old Princess of Ursinos. She was the only person allowed to see the King in his heartbroken grief; and whilst he was in seclusion in the Medina Celi palace, the monks were turned out of a neighbouring monastery that the Princess might stay there and have free access to the King through a passage made for the purpose through the walls that separated the buildings. The gossips very soon began to say that the King was going to marry the Princess, though she was old enough to be his grandmother. But, as usual, the scandalmongers were wrong. The Princess of Ursinos was far too clever for such a stroke as that; but she and others saw that Philip must marry some one without loss of time, or he would lose what wits were left to him.

The marriage-mongers of Europe were on the alert, but the problem to be solved was not an easy one. A bride must be found whom Louis XIV. would accept, and yet one not too subservient to orders from France, nor one who would interfere with the absolute paramountcy of the Princess of Ursinos. So all the suggestions coming from France were regarded coldly; and the Princess set about finding a candidate who would suit her. There was an Italian priest in Spain at the time, one Father Alberoni, a cunning rogue, who could be a buffoon when it suited him, who had wormed himself into Court circles in the suite of the Duke of Vendome. This man, a Parmese, came to the Princess of Ursinos the day after Queen Maria Louisa Gabriela died and suggested that there was a modest, submissive little princess at Parma, the niece and stepdaughter of the reigning prince, who had no male heirs, and that this girl was exactly fitted to be the new consort to Philip V. The Princess of Ursinos was inclined to regard the idea favourably, for not only was it evident that so young and humble a princess would not attempt to interfere with her, but the match seemed to offer a chance for re-establishing the lost influence of Spain in Italy. Louis XIV. had other views for his grandson, and did not take kindly to the proposal, but he was grudgingly won over by the Princess of Ursinos, whom he could not afford to offend. Philip himself was as wax in the hands of the old Princess; and on the 16th September 1714 he married by proxy Isabel Farnese, Princess of Parma.

Isabel Farnese had been represented by Alberoni as a tractable young maiden, but she was a niece, by her mother, of the Queen Dowager, Marie Anne of Neuburg, who was eating her heart out in spite in her exile at Bayonne; and Alberoni knew full well when he suggested the Parmese bride that he was taking part in a deep-laid conspiracy to overthrow the Princess of Ursinos. His part was a difficult one to play at first, for he had to keep up an appearance of adhesion to the Princess of Ursinos whilst currying favour with the coming Queen. Isabel Farnese approached her new realm with the airs of a conqueror. She was to have landed at Alicante, and thither went Alberoni and her Spanish household to receive her: but she altered her mind suddenly, and decided to go overland through the south of France and visit her aunt Marie Anne at Bayonne. Marie Anne had a long score of her own to settle with the Princess of Ursinos, who had kept her in exile, and she instructed her niece how to proceed to make herself mistress of her husband’s realm.

Isabel Farnese, girl though she was, did not need much instruction in imperious self-assertion, and began her operations as soon as she crossed the frontier. She flatly refused to dismiss her Italian suite, as had been arranged in accordance with the invariable Spanish rule, and showed from the first that she meant to have her own way in all things. She was in no hurry, moreover, to meet her husband until the Princess of Ursinos was out of the way; and when the latter, in great state, came to meet her at Jadraque, a short distance from Guadalajara, where the King was awaiting his bride, Isabel was ready for the decisive fray which should settle the question as to who should rule Spain.

The old Princess was quite aware also by this time that she had to meet a rival, and she began when she entered the presence by making some remark about the slowness of the Queen’s journey. Hardly were the words out of her mouth than the young termagant shouted: ‘Take this old fool away who dares to come and insult me:’ and then, in spite of protest and appeal, the Princess was hustled into a coach to be driven into exile through a snowstorm in the winter night over the bleakest uplands in Europe. Attired in her Court dress, with no change of garments or adequate protection against the weather, without respect, consideration or decency, the aged Princess was thus expelled from the country she had served so wisely. She saw now, as she had feared for some time before, that she had been tricked by the crafty Italian clown-cleric, and that her day was done.

The dominion of the new Queen Isabel Farnese over the spirit of Philip V. was soon more complete even than that of the Princess had been, and a letter of cold compliment from the King was all the reward or consolation that the Princess got for her protracted service to him and his cause in Spain; services without which, in all human probability, he would never have retained the crown. So long as Philip had a masterful woman always by his side to keep him in leading strings, it mattered little to him who the woman was; and Isabel Farnese, bold, ambitious, and intriguing, ruled Spain in the name of her husband thenceforward for thirty years. Her system was neither French nor Spanish, but founded upon the feline ecclesiastical methods of the smaller Italian Courts: and the object of Isabel’s life was to assert successfully the rights of her sons to the Italian principalities, she claimed in virtue of her descent. The pretext under which she cloaked her aims was the recovery of the Spanish influence in the sister Peninsula: but the wars which resulted were in no sense of Spanish national concern, but purely Italian and dynastic.

Thus, for many years to come, the progress of Spain was retarded, and her resources wasted in struggles by land and sea all over Europe, and with allies and opponents constantly changing, with the end of seating Isabel’s Bourbon sons upon Italian thrones. She succeeded, at the cost of a generation of war, and gave to Spain once more an appearance of some of her old potency, thanks to new ideas and more enlightened administration: but when the successive deaths of her two stepsons, the heirs of Philip by his first Savoyard wife, made her own eldest son Charles King of Spain, Isabel was plainly, but delicately, made to understand that the destinies of the country must in future be guided by men, and in enlightened national interests, and not by women for secondary ends.

Again, on the death of Charles III., the only strong King since Philip II., the regal mantle fell upon a weak uxorious man, whose wife, yet another Maria Louisa, led Spain by the miry path of disgraceful favouritism to the great war of Independence—the Peninsular war—which destroyed what was left of old Spain, and held up to the derision of the world the reigning family, of whom Napoleon made such cruel sport.

Forty years more of feminine rule in the next generation brought the unfortunate country to the revolution of 1868, and then the dawning came of a happier day, now brightening to its full. Only half a century ago the old, old struggle between France and Germany to provide a Consort for Spain was engaged anew, and brought England and France upon the very verge of war. But the fall of the Bourbons in France and Italy, and the disappearance of the French monarchy, as a result of the great war between the Frank and Teuton, still, on the ancient pretext of their rival interests in Spain, banished, at least for our time, the dynastic jealousy which had kept Europe at war for centuries.

An Austrian Queen-Regent has since then ruled Spain with consummate wisdom and the noblest self-sacrifice for nearly twenty years; and France has watched with sympathy, and no thought of aggression, the sustained effort of a good woman to hand down intact to her fatherless son the inheritance to which he was born. An English Queen Consort sits by the side of the Spanish King, now, for the first time for centuries, and yet no breath of discord comes from other nations to mar the love match that has ended in a happy marriage.

The world grows wiser at last. The old tradition that dynastic connection could override irresistible national tendencies has lingered long, but is really dying now. Matrimonial alliances between reigning families are symptoms, not causes, and as the personal power of the monarch wanes before the growth of popular government, the influence of the consort becomes more social, and consequently more personally interesting.

The stories told in these pages treat of a state of affairs never likely to recur. They show, amongst other things, with what little prescience the world has been governed. The attempt of Ferdinand the Catholic to make Aragon great by marriage ended in the swamping of Aragon: the attempt of Charles V. and his son to dictate the religion of the world, by means of the strength gained by matrimonial alliances, ended in the exhaustion and ruin of Spain: the attempts of France and Germany to obtain control of Spain by providing consorts for the ruling kings has ended in neither obtaining what it sought, and in Spain being as safe from foreign domination of any sort as any country in Europe. The lesson to be drawn surely is that rulers, grandly as they bulk for their little day in the eyes of men, are themselves but puppets, moved by aggregate spontaneous national forces infinitely more powerful than any individuality can be, and that a monarch’s seeming strength is only effective so long as it interprets truly the accumulated impulse, that, in obedience to some harmonious law as yet uncoded, guides to their destiny the nations of the earth.

FINIS

INDEX

Adrian, Cardinal, 182, 192

Aguirre, Señora, 474

Agreda, Maria de, 354, 357

Aix la Chapelle, 391

Alba, 230, 249, 266

Albaicin, 116

Alberoni, Father, 537

Albuera, 52

Albuquerque, Duchess of, 455

Alcantara, Master of, 11

Alcazar, 3, 165

Alexander VI., 105

Alexander Farnese, 292

Alfonso V. of Portugal, 9, 19

Alphonso (brother of Henry IV), 10, 11, 14

Alhama, 56, 57

Almazan, 162

Almeria, 55, 65

Anne of Austria (wife of Phillip II), 314; character, illness and death, 316

Anna of Austria (Queen of France), 320, 321, 352

Arabic Manuscripts, 116

Aranda, 24

Aranjuez, 331

Arcos, 177

Arevalo, 200

Armada, 318

Armignac, 5

Arthur, Prince of Wales, 100, 127

Artois, 106

Arundel, 220

Astorga, 156

Astorga, Marquis, 424

Augsburg, League of, 463, 480, 487

Aulnoy, Madame d’, quoted, 419

Avila, 11, 192

Avila, Juan de, 189, 196

Badajoz, 317

Balbeses, Marquis de los, 415, 423

Baltasar Carlos, 334, 358

Barcelona, 46; Treaty, 104, 348

Bavaria, Prince of, 495, 500

Baza, 65

Bedford, Earl of, 223

Behovia, 321

‘Beltraneja,’ the birth, 4; betrothal, 23; betrothal to King of Portugal, 30; marriage, 33, 146

Benavente, Count, 9, 12, 163

Bergues, 230

Berlips, Baroness, 496

Bernaldez, 89

Bertondona, Martin de, 228

Bidasoa, 377, 425

Boabdil, 60, 61, 72

Bobadilla, Beatriz de, 13, 80, 135, 165

Bobadilla, Francisco de, 123

Bonner, 215, 238

Borgia, Francis of, 202

Bourbon, Anthony de, 276

Braganza, Duke of, 348

Brantôme, quoted, 283, 303

Bristol, Earl of, 326

Browne, Sir Anthony, 221, 230

Buckingham, Duke of, 325

Buendia, Count, 272

Buen Retiro, 328, 342, 429

Burgos, 35, 108, 322

Burgundy, 106

Cabeña, 38

Cabero, Juan, 80, 87, 162

Cabra, Count of, 60

Cabrera, Andres, 13, 165

Cabezon, 9

Calais, 249

Calatrava, 42

Calderon, Maria, 333

Cardeñosa, 14

Cardona, Folch de, 507, 516, 518

Cardona, Hugo de, 146

Carew family, 223

Carlos, Don, 288, 296, 309, 310

Carrillo, Alfonso, 4, 9, 11, 20, 97

Cartuja de Miraflores, 168

Castañar, 97

Castile, Admiral of, 163

Castile, revolt in, 192

Cateau Cambresis, 262

Catharine of Lancaster, ix.

Cerdagne, 59, 100

‘Chambergo’ Regiment, 396, 406

Charles, Archduke, 497

Charles, Prince of Wales, 325

Charles of Viana, 8

Charles II, birth, 382; description as a child, 392, 396; recalls Don Juan, 402; banishes Don Juan to Aragon, 403; coming of age, 403; suggestions for marriage, 414; reconciliation with Mariana, 421; journey to meet Marie Louise, 426; marriage, 431; neglect of government, 440; jealousy of Mme. de Villars, 459; dismisses Medina Celi, 463; illness at Aranjuez, 467; second marriage, 488; meets Marie Anne, 491; dismisses Oropesa, 494; increasing weakness, 497; appoints Prince of Bavaria heir, 500; destroys will, 502; said to be bewitched, 514; makes will in favour of Philip, 524; death, 525

Charles III, 540

Charles V, 105, 179, 184, 189, 243

Charles VIII, 62, 75, 100, 104, 108

Chatellerault, 274

Chièvres, 185

Chimay, Prince of, 185

Cigales, 9, 11

Civil War in Spain, 12, 29

Clarencius, Mrs., 217, 255

Claude of France, 127

Clerambant, Maréchale, 423

Coligny, 247

Columbus, Christopher, 74; received by Isabel, 78; guest of Deza, 82; member of royal household, 82; grant for maintenance, 82; negotiations with Portugal, France, and England, 82; extravagant demands, 83, 84; agreement with Isabel, 89; returns in triumph from first voyage, 94; second voyage, 95, 120; third voyage, 120; imprisoned, 123; release, 123; fourth voyage, 124

Columbus, Diego, 89

Comuneros, 192, 198

Compostella, 57

Conchillos, 131, 143

Condé, 354, 376

Consuegra, 383

Conti, Prince of, 417

Cordova, Cardinal, 518

Cordova, Gonzalo de, 65, 105, 118

Corunna, 154, 391

Cotes, Sebastian de, 505

Council of the Indies, 120, 121

Court, Spanish, description, 328, 338, 369, 533

Courtenay, 214

Courtrai, 460

Cranmer, 220

Cromwell, 371

Cuellar, 26

Cueva, Beltran de la, 5, 9, 10

D’assonleville, 254

Denia, Marchioness of, 176

Denia, Marquis of, 187, 194, 198

Deza, Diego, 80

Diaz, Froilan, 506, 519

Dixmunde, 460

Dominicans, 46, 48

Dueñas, 21, 38

Dunkirk, 376

Edward IV. of England, 17

Edward VI. of England, 212

Egmont, Count, 221, 230

Eguia, Jeronimo de, 440, 454

Elizabeth of England, 229, 271

El Zagal, 60

Emanuel Philibert of Savoy, 247

Emmanuel, King, 106

Enriquez, Juana, 8

Escalas, Conde de, 63

Escorial, 357, 366, 388, 406

Estrada, Duke of, 184

Estremadura, 26

Fadrique, Admiral, 9, 20

Fadrique de Toledo, 346

Fanshawe, Lady, quoted, 384

Fanshawe, Sir Richard, 383, 390

Feuquières, 464

Ferdinand of Aragon, 17; marriage, 22; in France, 23; motto, 33; fight against Moors, 56; in Council at Cordova, 61; rejects Colon’s terms, 83; attacked by lunatic, 93; schemes for his children, 99; treaty with France, 100; breaks treaty, 104; war with France, 105; quarrel with son-in-law, 113; represses rebellion of Moors, 118; attempts to conciliate Philip, 126; illness, 133; claims right to govern Castile, 142; ordered to leave Castile, 145; alliance with Jimenez, 146; contemplates second marriage, 146; alliance with Louis XII, 147; agreement with Philip, 150; treaty, 159; assumes government of Castile, 177; death, 182

Ferdinand, Emperor, 130

Feria, 230, 251

Fernando, 89

Ferrer, Mosen, 182, 183

Flanders, 354, 390

Flushing, 489

Fonseca, 142

Fontainebleau, 417, 422

France, 100, 105, 128, 248, 316, 319, 346

Franche Comté, 106

Francis II, 293

Francis Phœbus, 61

Galicia, 39

Gardiner, 215, 220

Geneda, Diego de, 217

Germaine de Foix, 147

Giron, Pedro, 12

Gloucester, Duke of, 17

Gomez, Ruy, 230

Grammont, Duke de, 378

Granada, 36, 65; siege, 67–72; burning of library, 116

Granvelle, quoted, 215

Grey family, 223

Grey, Lady Jane, 213

Grey de Wilton, Lord, 249

Guadalajara, 284

Guadix, 65

Guevara, Anna de, 352

Guevara, Velez de, 337

Guienne, Duke of, 17, 23

Guise, Duke of, 321

Guisnes, 249

Guzmans, 39

Harcourt, Duke of, 423, 502, 503

Haro, Count de, 179

Haro, Luis de, 355, 375, 383

Harrach, Count, 499

Heliche, Marquis of, 370

Henry II. (of France), 269

Henry IV. (of France), 318, 319

Henry IV. (of Spain), 3; impeachment, 11; death, 26

Henry VII. (of England), 149, 153, 173

Henry VIII. (of England), 211

Hernandez, Garcia, 75

Hispanola, 121

Horn, Count, 230

Hornillos, 175

House tax, 38

Howell, James, quoted, 329

Huelva, 75

Infantado, Duke of, 38, 272

Inquisition, 46, 48, 448, 514, 516

Isabel, Empress, 209

Isabel Farnese, xiii; marriage, 537; influence over Philip, 539

Isabel of Bourbon, betrothal, 320; meeting with Philip, 322; marriage, 323; character and manners, 327; love for stage, 328, 331; escape from fire at Aranjuez, 331; birth of son, 333; children, 334; rejoicings at birth of Baltasar Carlos, 334; portraits, 336; sells jewels to provide soldiers, 346; struggle with France, 346; breach with Olivares, 349; Regent in absence of King, 350; demands dismissal of Olivares, 352; illness, 355; death, 356

Isabel of the Peace, xi, xiv; betrothal, 267; marriage, 268; journey to Spain, 273; meeting with Philip, 284; smallpox, 286; illness, 295; letter to Catharine, 299; defeats conspiracy in Navarre, 298; meets her mother at Bayonne, 302; birth of daughter, 305; birth of second daughter, 308; death, 313

Isabel the Catholic, ix; betrothed to Charles of Viana, 8; suggested betrothal to King of Portugal, 9; offered crown, 14; accepts heirship, 15; meeting with Henry, 16; intrigues with reference to marriage, 17; marriage, 22; deprived of grants and privileges, 23; birth of first child, 23; reconciliation with Henry, 24; revenue, 41; reforms Court, 41; treatment of religious orders, 42; influence f Torquemada, 44; establishes Inquisition, 47; birth of Prince of the Asturias, 50; crushes Portuguese, 52; acknowledged Queen of Spain, 52; birth of third child, 52; war with Moors, 56; birth of fourth child, 60; takes command of campaign against Moors, 63; birth of last child, 64; pledges crown, 66; Queen of Granada, 73; terms with Columbus, 89; domestic life, 95; letter to Talavera, 100; purification of monasteries, 100; unification of coinage, 104; marriages of children, 106; death of Juan, 109; death of eldest daughter and her son Miguel, 110; troubles domestic and political, 110; ill-health, 111; visit of Philip and Joan, 127; wishes in regard to succession, 129; apoplexy, 131; will, 135; codicil, 136; death, 136.

Isle of Pheasants, 378, 425

Jaen, 66

Jamaica, 371

James I. of England, 319, 324

James IV., 107

Jews, 45, 47, 48, 67

Jimenez de Cisneros, Royal Confessor, 97; primate, 99, 136, 158, 164; maintains order, 173, 175; Cardinal, 177; Regent, 182, 191

Joan the Mad, xi; birth, 52; marriage, 106; birth of son, 125; visit to Spain, takes oath with her husband as heir of Castile, 127; receives homage as heir of Ferdinand, 128; detention at Medina, 132; returns to Flanders, 133; proclaimed Queen of Castile, 141; discord with husband, 143; letter on being declared unfit to rule, 144; journey to Spain, 150; shipwreck and landing in England, 152; meeting with Katharine, 153; interview with Enriquez, 163; receives oath of allegiance of Cortes, 164; grief for death of Philip, 168; refusal to perform duties of Government, 171; pilgrimage to Granada, 171; birth of youngest child, 172; suggested marriage with Henry VII., 173; dismisses Councillors of Philip, 175; meeting with Ferdinand at Tortoles, 176; at Arcos, 177; imprisoned at Tordesillas, 180; visited by Charles and Leonora, 184; protest against treatment, 190; conference with executive body of Regent’s government, 190; receives Padilla, 194; identifies herself with Revolution, 194; anti-religious tendency, 200; visited by Francis of Borgia, 202; illness, 204; death, 205

Juan, Prince of Asturias, 50, 54, 106, 109

Juan II., of Aragon, 20

Juan of Austria, 292

Juan Jose, of Austria (Don Juan), xii, 363, 370, 376, 383, 387, 388, 390, 391; controversy with Mariana, 393; Viceroy of Aragon, 396; ordered to Sicily, 401; recalled by Charles, 402; exiled to Aragon, 403; recalled to Madrid, 405; enters Madrid in State, 408; decrease of power, 418; death, 420

Juan II., of Castile, 3

Katharine of Aragon, 100, 173

Katharine, Infanta, 172, 199

Laredo, 107

Las Casas, 89

Las Huelgas, 431

Leganés, Marquis of, 351, 505

Lerida, 351, 354

Lerma, 323

Lille, 108

Lionne, M. de, 376

Lisle, Count Alva de, 4

Literature, Spanish, 327, 338

London, 153

Lope de Vega, 339, 342

Lotti, Cosme, 344

Louis XI., 61

Louis XII., 133, 147

Louis XIII., 320

Louis XIV., 460, 464, 521

Loja, 63

Luis de la Cruz, Friar, 203

Luna, Alvaro de, 27

Luxembourg, 106

Madrigal, 20, 37

Malaga, 55, 64, 118

Maldonado, Dr., 79

Manrique, Pedro, 21

Mansfeldt, Count, 463, 490

Manuel, Juan, 143, 156, 165

Marchena, Antonio de, 79, 120

Margaret, Archduchess, 106, 108, 149, 153

Margaret, Empress, 368, 414

Margaret of Austria, 318

Margaret of Savoy, 352

Margaret Tudor, 107

Maria of Hungary, 146

Maria Louisa of Savoy, 532; marriage, 532; regent in absence of husband, 533; ability and diligence, 533; death, 536

Mariana of Austria, offered in marriage to Baltasar Carlos, 361; marriage to Philip IV.; meets Philip at Navalcarnero, 365; birth of a daughter, 368; paralysis, 371; birth of son, 373; intrigues against Don Juan, 382; birth of a son, 382; growth of power, 382; Queen-Regent, 389; conspiracy in favour of Don Juan, 394; dismisses Nithard, 395; alliance with England and Holland against France, 397; seeks help of Don Juan, 398; favour of Valenzuela, 400; regency ends, 402; triumph over Don Juan, 403; prisoner in Alcazar, 406; banished to Toledo, 406; reconciled to Charles, 421; return to Court, 421; meeting with Marie Louise, 433; treatment of Marie Louise, 444; plots to ruin Marie Louise, 464; plans for succession, 499; death, 500

Maria Theresa, 371, 378, 380, 389, 396, 414

Marie Anne of Neuburg, married by proxy, 489; journey to Spain, 489; welcome at Corunna, 490; sides with enemies of Oropesa, 493; unpopularity, 496; summons Count Harrach, 499; efforts to secure succession of Archduke Charles, 500; plans to crush Diaz, 517; accused of witchcraft, 518; secures dismissal of Diaz, 529; head of Council of Regency, 526; banished to Toledo, 526; visited by Philip V., 526; sides with Austria, 527; banished to Bayonne, 527; returns to Spain, 527; death, 527

Marie Louise of Orleans, 415; love for Dauphin, 416; betrothed to King of Spain, 417; marriage by proxy, 418; journey to Spain, 423; household, 424; letter to Charles, 427; marriage at Quintanapalla, 431; meeting with Mariana, 433; isolation at Burgos, 433; entry into Madrid, 439; frivolity, 444; humoured by Mariana, 444; growing interest in public affairs, 456; discord with Mariana and Charles, 456; unhappiness, 457; influence of Madame Quantin, 458; reproached for sterility, 458; accused of plotting against King, 468; French expelled from palace, 469; letter to Louis XIV. _re_ Saint Chamans, 472; smallpox, 479; illness, 480; death, 481

Martinez, Friar, 385

Mary of England, 213; plans for marriage, 214–220; accepts Philip, 223; presents, 224; meeting with Philip, 232; marriage, 234; parting from Philip, 241; Queen of Spain, 243; war with France, 247; illness, 254; death, 256

Mary Queen of Scots, 263, 290

Matienzo, Friar, 112

Matilla, Father, 493, 504, 506, 507

Maurice of Saxony, 212

Maximilian, 113, 133, 148, 179, 190

Mayenne, Duke of, 320, 382

Mazarin, 376, 382

Medici, Catharine de, 267

Medici, Marie de, 320, 321

Medillin, Count, 11

Medina, 34

Medina Celi, Duke of, befriends Colon, 76

Medina Celi, Duke of (under Charles), 415, 440, 453, 459, 463

Medina del Campo, 48, 56

Medina de las Torres, Duke of, 386, 387

Medina Sidonia, Duke of, 56, 76

Melcombe Regis, 153

Mello, 354

Mendoza, Cardinal, 19, 59, 80, 97

Mendoza, Bishop of Segovia, 519

Mendoza, Diego Hurtado de, 217

Metz, 212

Montalto, Duke of, quoted, 464, 470, 473, 475, 476, 477

Montenegro, 401

Monterey, Count, 505

Montgomerie, Sieur de l’Orge, 269

Montmorenci, 247

Moors, 55, 116, 118

Moscoso, 388

Moslems, 116, 119

Muley Abul Hassan, 55

Murcientes, 163

Muza, 72

New Hall, 213

Nimeguen, 414

Nithard, Father Everard, 382, 389, 393, 394; dismissed, 395

Noailles, Antoine de, 213, 220, 229, 238

Novas, Marquis de las, 224

Ojeda, 47

Olivarez, Gaspar de Guzman, Count of, 230, 324, 345; breach with Queen, 349; fall, 353

Olivarez, Countess of, 339

Olmedo, 13

Oñate, 427

Orange, Prince of, 487

Oropesa, Count of, 463, 482; dismissed, 494, 501–512

Osma, 21

Osorio, Isabel de, 217, 265

Osuna, Duke of, 418, 425

Ovando, Nicolas de, 123

Padilla, 194, 224

Paget, 220

Palencia, 175

Palos, 75

Passau, 212

Pastrana, Duke of, 320

Patiño, 393

Perez, Friar Juan, 75, 80, 85

Peter Martyr, 112

Petre, 220

Philip II., 202; Regent, 209; betrothed to Mary, 223; journey to England, 226; marriage, 234; leaves England, 241; returns, 245; proposal of marriage to Elizabeth, 262; union with France, 263; marriage to Isabel, 267; poverty, 293; marriage to Anne, 314

Philip III., 318

Philip IV., betrothed, 320; marriage, 323; succeeds, 323; character, 324, 328; jealousy, 330; intrigue with Maria Calderon, 333; birth of son, 334; leads armies in Catalonia, 350; returns to Madrid, 351; letter to Maria de Agredo; grief at loss of son, 362; marriage to Mariana, 363; poverty, 372; birth of son, 373; journey to French frontier, 379; ill-health, 383; reported bewitched, 384; will, 386; death, 387

Philip V., 523, 526; marriage, 532; in Italy, 533; second marriage, 537

Philip of Burgundy, 108; assumes title, Prince of Castile, 113, 127, 128, 133; intrigues with England, 149, 153; treaty with Ferdinand, 159; death, 166

Philip Prosper, 374, 381

Plascencia, 11

Pole, Cardinal, 214, 220, 245

Portocarrero, Cardinal, 493, 522

Portugal, throws off Spanish yoke, 348; independence recognised, 390

Pyrenees, Peace of, 379

Quantin, Madame, 458, 465, 468

Quevedo, 337

Quintanapalla, 429

Quintanilla, Alfonso de, 79

Raleigh, 324

Ramua, 108

Ratisbon, Treaty of, 460

Ravaillac, 319

Rebenac, 480

Religious Orders, 42

Renard, Simon, 213

Richelieu, 321

Richmond, 153

Rio Seco, Duke of, 505, 518

Rieux, Madame, 282

Riquelme, Maria de, 340

Rivers, Lord, 63

Rocaberti, 514, 517

Roche sur Yon, 273

Rocroy, 354

Rojas, Bishop, 192

Roncesvalles, 276

Ronquillo, Francisco, 505

Rosellon, 59, 100, 378

Ruiz, 116

Russell, Admiral, 489

Ryswick, Peace of, 501

‘Sacred Brotherhood,’ 37

Saint Chamans, 471

St. Jean de Luz, 425

St. Jean Pied de Port, 277

St Jerome, monastery of, 313, 322

Salamanca, 10, 150

Salic Law, 31

Salmas, Countess of, 182

Sanchez, Gabriel, 94

Sandwich, Lord, 390

Santa Fe, 69

Sant’angel, Luis de, 78, 80, 87

Santa Maria de la Rabida, 75

Santa Maria del Campo, 177

Santiago, 39

Segovia, 9, 10, 165

Seville, 39, 48

Sicily, 398, 414

Soissons, Countess of, 475

Soto, Dr., 204

Spinola, 346

Stanhope, Colonel, quoted, 490, 491, 498, 500, 509, 510, 513, 515, 517

Suffolk, Earl of, 152

Talavera, Father, 51, 57, 59, 79, 93, 116

Tavara, Francisca de, 330

Tendilla, Count, 72, 93, 116

Terranova, Duchess of, 414, 429, 454

Tilly, 346

Toledo, 54, 127

Tordesillas, 33, 180; battle, 196

Toro, 34, 36, 142

Torquemada, 44, 46; inquisitor-general, 49, 57, 59

Torquemada (town), 172

Trenchard, Sir John, 152

Uceda, Duke of, 321

Ureña, Countess of, 282

Ursinos, Princess of, 532, 534, 535, 536, 538

Valdés, Pedro, 328

Valentinois, Duchess, 267

Valenzuela, Fernando de, 398; honours, 403, 405; flight, 406; imprisoned at Consuegra, 408

Valladolid, 9, 20, 30, 154, 164, 223

Vanguyon, 461

Vaucelles, 262

Vega, Garcilaso de la, 163

Velazquez, 335, 337

Velazquez, Diego de Silva, 380

Velez, 55

Velez-Malaga, 64

Vendome, Duke of, 273

Venta de los Toros de Guisando, 16

Verjus, Father, 464

Vilaine, 468

Villafafila, 159

Villalar, 198, 209

Villamediana, Count of, 330, 331

Villars, Mme. de, quoted, 426, 433, 435, 443, 445, 446

Villars, Marquis de, 420, 431, 459

Villena, Marquis of, 5, 9, 11, 175

Vistahermosa, Duchess of, 50

Vivero, Juan, 22

Westphalia, Treaty of, 364

Weymouth, 151

Winchester, 232

Windsor, 152

Wyatt family, 223

Zahara, 56

Zamora, 35, 36

Zoraya, 62

Zuñiga, Diego Lopez de, 12

Footnote 1:

The ceremony is described by Enriquez de Castillo in the contemporary ‘Cronica de Enrique IV.’

Footnote 2:

Hernando de Pulgar, ‘Cronica de los Reyes Catolicos.’

Footnote 3:

Letter of Diego de Valera to Henry IV. MS. quoted by Amador de las Rios. Historia de Madrid. See also the famous poems of the time, Coplas de Mingo Revulgo, and Coplas del Provincial, where vivid pictures are given of the prevailing anarchy.

Footnote 4:

The protest is in the archives of Villena’s descendant, the present Duke of Frias, to whom I am indebted for an abstract of it.

Footnote 5:

The original treaty, which of course came to nothing, is in the Frias Archives, and is signed by Louis XI. as one of the contracting parties. It is dated 9th May 1463. I have not seen the fact stated elsewhere.

Footnote 6:

The text of the demands, under thirty-nine heads, will be found in the ‘Documentos Ineditos,’ vol. xiv. p. 369.

Footnote 7:

The exact sequence and dates of these and the following events have never yet been made clear in any of the numerous histories of the time, not even in Prescott, owing to the fact that Enriquez de Castillo and Pulgar very rarely give dates, whilst Galindez only mentions the years of such happenings as he records. The printing of the contemporary so-called ‘Cronicon de Valladolid’ (partly written by Isabel’s physician, Dr. Toledo) in the ‘Documentos Ineditos,’ now enables us to set forth the events chronologically, and thus the better to understand their significance.

Footnote 8:

Enriquez de Castillo, ‘Cronica de Enrique IV.‘

Footnote 9:

A number of decrees issued by Alfonso at the time, conferring upon Villena and his partisans great grants and privileges, are in the Frias archives; and other charters rewarding the city of Avila for its adherence to his cause have recently been printed by the Chronicler of the city from its archives, Sr. de Foronda.

Footnote 10:

Of a poisoned trout which he ate, it was asserted by his partisans. The suspicion of poison is strengthened by the fact that his death was publicly announced as a fact some days before it happened, when he was quite well.

Footnote 11:

In a series of documents recently published from the archives of the city of Avila by St. Foronda, there is one very curious charter signed by Isabel on 2nd September, before even she started for the interview with her brother. In it she already acts as sovereign of Avila, confirming the many privileges given to the city by her brother Alfonso, whom she calls King, and cancelling the grants of territories belonging to the city which King Henry had made to his follower, the Count of Alba. Thus she annulled the King’s grants before he bestowed the city upon her.

Footnote 12:

The original deed signed by the King of Portugal, dated 2nd May 1469, is in the Frias archives.

Footnote 13:

Isabel only learnt of the deception practised upon her some time afterwards (1471) from the partisans of the Beltraneja’s projected marriage with the Duke of Guienne. A genuine bull of dispensation was afterwards granted to her by the new Pope, Sixtus IV.

Footnote 14:

The story of Ferdinand’s coming and his marriage is graphically told in the Decades of Alfonso de Palencia, who had been sent from Isabel to fetch him, and accompanied him on his journey.

Footnote 15:

‘Cronicon de Valladolid,’ a diary kept at Valladolid at the time by Dr. Toledo, Isabel’s physician. _Doc. Ined._ 14.

Footnote 16:

In the Frias archives there is an undertaking, dated 2nd October 1470, signed by the Duke of Guienne, promising rewards to Cardinal Mendoza, the Marquis of Villena, the Duke of Arevalo, and others, for their aid in bringing about the betrothal with the Beltraneja.

Footnote 17:

Dueñas was granted on the same day, 21st October 1470, to the Princess Doña Juana (the Beltraneja). Cronicon de Valladolid.

Footnote 18:

How much Isabel prized the fidelity of these steadfast adherents is seen by the last act of her life. On her deathbed she revoked—not very honestly or graciously most people think—all grants and rewards she had given out of crown possessions, on the pretext that she had been moved to make them more by need than by her own wish. The only exception she made was the manors of the Marquisite of Moya, which, with the title, had been granted to Cabrera and his wife Doña Beatriz Bobadilla.

Footnote 19:

Recorded in Enriquez de Castillo’s ‘Cronica de Enrique IV.‘

Footnote 20:

It should be mentioned that the faithless Queen of Henry IV., the mother of the Beltraneja, lived apart from him in Madrid. She had several children by various men subsequently.

Footnote 21:

Galindez tells the story that Henry on his deathbed swore that Juana was really his child, and says that he left a will in her favour of which Villena was the executor. The latter having predeceased the King, the will remained in the keeping of Oviedo, the King’s secretary, who afterwards entrusted it to the curate of Santa Cruz at Madrid. He, fearing to hold it, enclosed it in a chest with other papers and buried it at Almeida, in Portugal. Years afterwards Isabel learnt of this, and when, in 1504, she was mortally ill, she sent the curate and the lawyer who had told her to disinter the will. When they brought it she was too ill to see it, and it remained in the lawyer’s keeping. He informed Ferdinand after the Queen’s death, and the King ordered the document to be burnt, whilst the lawyer was richly rewarded. Others say, continues Galindez, that the paper was preserved.

Footnote 22:

She died in June 1475.

Footnote 23:

Although she allowed a poor madman who attempted to kill Ferdinand to be torn to bits by red hot pincers, and consigned scores of thousands of poor wretches to the flames for doubting the correctness of her views on religion, she refused ever to go to a bullfight after attending one at which two men had been killed. She strongly condemned such waste of human life without good object.

Footnote 24:

Oviedo, who knew her well, says that no other woman could compare with her in beauty.

Footnote 25:

‘Cronicon de Valladolid,’ Doc. Ined. 14, and also Alfonso de Palencia.

Footnote 26:

As one instance of the mercenary character of the Castilian nobles of the time, I may mention that there is a bond signed by the King of Portugal in the Frias archives promising to young Villena the Mastership of Santiago in payment for his help.

Footnote 27:

The King of Portugal, having heard that Castilian raiders had crossed the Portuguese frontier, is said to have proposed to Ferdinand at this juncture a compromise, by which the Beltraneja should be dropped, and Isabel recognised in return for the cession to Portugal of all Galicia and the two fortresses of Zamora and Toro which he occupied. Ferdinand was inclined to agree to this, and sent an envoy to propose it to his wife. Before the envoy had finished his first sentence Isabel stopped him indignantly, and forbade him to continue. She herself, she said, would in future direct the war, and no foot of her own realm of Castile should be surrendered. She then hurried to Medina and summoned the Cortes, as is told in the text.

Footnote 28:

Each group of 100 heads of families subscribed sufficient to pay, mount, arm, and maintain a horseman; and when intelligence of a crime came, every church bell in the district rang an alarm to summon the members of the constabulary to pursue the evil-doer, a special prize being given to the captor. It must be understood that the townships in Spain extend in every case over a large territory outside the walls, so that the house tax, although nominally urban because collected by the municipalities, was really collected also from rural hamlets.

Footnote 29:

The importance of obtaining control of the Orders was seen by Isabel at the very beginning of her reign. When the Master of Santiago died in 1476 the Queen was at Valladolid. Without a moment’s delay she mounted her horse and rode to the town of Huete, where the Chapter to elect the new Master was to be held. She entered the Chapter and in an energetic speech urged the knights for the sake of her, their sovereign, to elect her husband their Master. The Castilian knights were angry at the idea of an Aragonese heading them, and opposed the suggestion. Isabel found a way out by pledging Ferdinand to transfer his powers as Master to a Castilian as soon as he was elected; and this he did, appointing his faithful follower Cardenas; but when the latter died Ferdinand became actual Master. Thenceforward the knighthoods (_encomiendas_) were endowed with pensions derived from rent charges on portions of the estates, the bulk of the revenue being absorbed by the King’s treasury. For details of the Orders and their appropriation, see Ulick Burke’s ‘History of Spain’ to 1515, edited by Martin Hume.

Footnote 30:

As at Jaen in 1473, where the Constable of Castile was killed whilst trying to stop the massacre.

Footnote 31:

Galindez and Perez de Pulgar.

Footnote 32:

At the Cortes of Madrigal in 1479, and in those of Toledo in 1480, Isabel and Ferdinand renewed all the old ferocious edicts against the use of silk and jewels by Jews in their garments, and ordered them strictly to confine their residence to the ghettoes, and two years later all toleration they enjoyed by papal decree was abolished.

Footnote 33:

Father Florez claims for Isabel and Torquemada alone what he considers the great honour of establishing the Inquisition.

Footnote 34:

In the first eight years of its existence, the Inquisition burnt in Seville alone 700 people, and sent to perpetual imprisonment in the dungeons 5000 more, confiscating all their goods.—_Bernaldez._

Footnote 35:

Shortly after her death, the mayor of her own city of Medina del Campo declared that the soul of Isabel had gone to hell for her cruel oppression of her subjects, and that all the people around Valladolid and Medina, where she was best known, were of the same opinion.—_Spanish State Papers_, Supplement to vols. i. and ii.

Footnote 36:

Florez, ‘Reinas Catolicos.’

Footnote 37:

Pulgar. ‘Cronica de los Reyes Catolicos.’

Footnote 38:

The Moors justified the attack by the accusation that the famous Ponce de Leon, Marquis of Cadiz, had raided and plundered the town of Mercadillo, near Ronda.

Footnote 39:

When somewhat later the Queen urgently begged him to accept the bishopric of Salamanca, and he persistently refused, she reproached him for not obeying her once when she had obeyed him so many times. ‘I will not be the bishop,’ he replied, ‘of any place but Granada.’ He was in effect the first archbishop.

Footnote 40:

Pulgar, ‘Cronica de los Reyes Catolicos.’

Footnote 41:

Lagréze. See also Zurita’s ‘Anales de Aragon.’

Footnote 42:

Florez, ‘Reinas Catolicos.’

Footnote 43:

See Perez de Pulgar, ‘Reyes Catolicos.’

Footnote 44:

Florez, ‘Reinas Catolicos.’

Footnote 45:

Bernaldez, ‘Reyes Catolicos,’ and Bleda’s ‘Cronica.’

Footnote 46:

The chroniclers of the siege dilate much upon the magnificent appearance of Isabel and her great train of ladies when, on the day of her arrival before Baza, she reviewed her troops in full view of the dumbfoundered Moors on the ramparts of the fortress. Her own Castilian troops, frantic with enthusiasm, no longer cried ‘Long live the Queen,’ but ‘Long live our _King_ Isabel.’—_Florez_, ‘Reinas Catolicos,’ and Letters of Peter Martyr, who was present.

Footnote 47:

The professed Christian Jews were much more severely dealt with than the unbaptised.

Footnote 48:

Perez de Hita (Historia de los Vandos) recounts that the city of Santa Fe sprang from a marvellous edifice which four grandees caused to be constructed in a single night. It consisted of four buildings of wood covered with painted canvas to imitate stone, and surrounded by a battlemented wall of a similar construction. Roadways in the form of a cross divided the four blocks with a gate at each of the four extremities. The Moors, on seeing what they thought was a strong fortress raised so rapidly, thought that witchcraft had been at work, and were utterly cast down.

Footnote 49:

The title ‘Catholic’ was formally conferred upon them by the Pope after the taking of Granada.

Footnote 50:

He promptly sold this to Isabel, and retired to Fez, where he was murdered. The account of the surrender is mainly taken from Perez de Hita’s ‘Historia de los Vandos,’ 1610, and Perez de Pulgar’s ‘Cronica.’

Footnote 51:

She is said never to have allowed Ferdinand to wear a shirt except those that she herself made for him.—_Navarro Rodrigo_, ‘El Cardinal Cisneros.’

Footnote 52:

The sequence of the movements of Columbus, and several facts and dates here given, vary from the current accounts. The narrative here set forth has been carefully compiled from the result of much recent Spanish research, besides the well-known texts of Navarrete and the superb anthology of contemporary information reproduced by Mr. Thatcher in his exhaustive three volumes lately published. I have also depended much upon Rodriguez Pinilla’s ‘Colon en España,’ Cappa’s ‘Colon y los Españoles,’ and Ibarra y Rodriguez’s ‘Fernando el Catolico y el Descubrimiento de America,’ etc. etc.

Footnote 53:

See Columbus’s own letter to the nurse of Prince Juan, reproduced by Mr. Thatcher.

Footnote 54:

As Medina Celi was with Ferdinand during all the campaign of 1485, it is possible that he may have mentioned it to the King then, and have been told that when there was time the sovereigns themselves would examine into the matter.

Footnote 55:

Las Casas and F. Colon.

Footnote 56:

Fernando Colon.

Footnote 57:

Las Casas.

Footnote 58:

Fernando Colon.

Footnote 59:

The speech, which is probably apocryphal, is given at length by Las Casas.

Footnote 60:

The legend of Queen Isabel and her jewels has been now completely disproved by my friend, Don Cesareo Fernandez Duro, in his article ‘Las Joyas de la Reina Isabel’ in the ‘Revista Contemporanea,’ vol. xxxviii.

Footnote 61:

Professor Ibarra y Rodriguez’s interesting study ‘Fernando el Catolico y el Descubrimiento’ (Madrid, 1892) makes this matter clear for the first time. The treasury of Castile was empty, but Ferdinand had plenty of money in Aragon. He was careful, however, not to allow the Castilians to know this, or they would have clamoured for some of it for their war against Granada, whilst he was hoarding it for his war against France. He therefore went through the comedy of causing Sant’angel to lend the million maravedis, apparently out of his own pocket, but the money was secretly advanced for the purpose to Sant’angel from the King’s Aragonese treasury, to which it was subsequently repaid through Sant’angel.

Footnote 62:

Some of these took the form of generosity at other people’s expense. The town of Palos was ordered, as punishment for some offence, to provide two caravels and stores.

Footnote 63:

Quoted by Florez. ‘Reinas Catolicos.’

Footnote 64:

_Ibid._ Both Luis de Sant’angel, who served as accountant general, and Gabriel Sanchez, the Aragonese treasurer, were of Jewish descent.

Footnote 65:

From Ulick Burke’s ‘History of Spain.’ Edited by Martin Hume. Only five years after the expulsion from Spain, as many of the Spanish Jews had fled to Portugal, Isabel, through her daughter, who had married the King of Portugal, coerced the latter to expel all Jews from his country.

Footnote 66:

It is said that Ferdinand tried to save the life of his assailant, who had been condemned to the most cruel and awful tortures as a punishment. The Catalans, furious at being baulked of their vengeance, appealed to Isabel, who decided that the sentence should be carried out, but that the victim should be secretly suffocated first.

Footnote 67:

The Luis de Sant’angel and the Sanchez letter have been published several times, but the letter to the Sovereigns has been lost, but for some passages quoted by Las Casas.

Footnote 68:

It is related that the Queen concealed from Jimenez her intention to make him Primate, and handed him unexpectedly the papal bull addressed to him as: The venerable brother Francisco Jimenez de Cisneros, Archbishop-elect of Toledo. When the friar saw the superscription he dropped the document and fled, crying, This bull is not for me. He was pursued and caught two leagues from Madrid by envoys from Isabel, and still refused the great preferment on the ground of his unworthiness. He stood out for six months until Isabel obtained from the Pope a peremptory command to him to accept the archbishopric, and even then he insisted that the vast revenues should be used for pious and charitable purposes.

Footnote 69:

A full account of these complicated intrigues will be found in the present writer’s ‘Wives of Henry VIII.‘

Footnote 70:

Father Florez quotes a remark of Isabel, on another occasion, warmly approving of the bullfight, ‘which, though foreigners who have not seen it condemn as barbarous, she considered it very different, and as a diversion where valour and dexterity shine.’

Footnote 71:

Florez, ‘Reinas Catolicos.’

Footnote 72:

Montero de los Rios ‘Historia de Madrid.’

Footnote 73:

Oviedo.

Footnote 74:

Ferdinand had wished to appoint an Aragonese commander, but as Castile was defraying most of the expenses of the war, Isabel insisted upon a Castilian being appointed.

Footnote 75:

Clemencin. ‘Elogio.’

Footnote 76:

Zurita, ‘Anales,’ and Padilla, ‘Cronica de Felipe I.‘

Footnote 77:

The Spanish chroniclers complain bitterly of Philip’s slowness in coming to meet his bride. He was in Tyrol when she arrived in Flanders, and spent nearly a month in joining her at Lille. From the first the love was all on poor Joan’s side.

Footnote 78:

Ferdinand, it is related, fearing that the sudden news of Juan’s death would kill Isabel with grief, caused her to be told that it was her husband, Ferdinand himself, that had died, so that when he presented himself before her, the—as he supposed—lesser grief of her son’s death should be mitigated by learning that her husband was alive. The experiment does not appear to have been very successful, as Isabel was profoundly affected when she heard the truth. (_Florez_, ‘Reinas Catolicos’).

Footnote 79:

In fact the Cortes of Aragon obstinately refused to swear allegiance to the Infanta Isabel as heiress when she went to Saragossa for the purpose in the autumn; and she was kept there in great distress until her expected child should be born, which, if it were a male, would receive the oath of the Cortes. The anxiety and worry consequent upon this killed the Infanta (Queen of Portugal) in the birth of her child Miguel in August.

Footnote 80:

Her story is told in ‘The Wives of Henry VIII.,’ by the present writer.

Footnote 81:

‘Spanish State Papers.’ Calendar, Supplement to vol. i. p. 405.

Footnote 82:

‘Calendar of Spanish State Papers,’ Supplement to vol. i. ‘Reports of the Sub-Prior of Santa Cruz to Isabel.’

Footnote 83:

Ferdinand sent at once an envoy to remonstrate with Maximilian about his son’s pretensions, but it was soon seen that Maximilian and his son were entirely in accord. Maximilian had the effrontery to claim the crown of Portugal in right of his mother, Doña Leonor of Portugal, and the crown of Castile for Juana, in preference to any daughter that might be born to her eldest sister, Isabel of Portugal. Ferdinand’s enemy, the King of France, naturally supported these pretensions, which were really put forward at the time to thwart Ferdinand, whose plans in Italy were now seen to threaten the suzerainty of the empire over some of the Italian States.

Footnote 84:

As showing how unrelenting was Isabel’s determination to exterminate infidelity in the whole Peninsula at the time, it may be mentioned that one of the conditions of the marriage of her eldest widowed daughter Isabel to the King of Portugal in 1497, was that every Jew should be expelled from Portugal.

Footnote 85:

Marmol Carbajal, ‘Rebelion of Castigo de los Moros de Granada.’

Footnote 86:

Marmol Carbajal. It will be recollected that Ferdinand had opposed Jimenez’s appointment, as he wanted the archbishopric and primacy for his son.

Footnote 87:

Ulick Burke, ‘History of Spain.’ Edited by Martin Hume.

Footnote 88:

Las Casas.

Footnote 89:

Colon’s son, Ferdinand, says that he ordered his fetters to be buried with him: but this does not appear to have been done. His bitter indignation is expressed by his son, Fernando, and in Colon’s ‘Letter to the Nurse.’

Footnote 90:

Zurita: Rodriguez Villa, ‘Juana la Loca,’ and ‘Calendar of Spanish State Papers,’ Supplement to Vol. i.

Footnote 91:

Especially the Archbishop of Besançon, whose influence over Philip was great. Philip would not let him go; but he died suddenly directly afterwards, doubtless of poison. Philip’s hurry to get away from Spain was attributed to his own fears of poison.

Footnote 92:

A copy of their urgent remonstrance from Toledo is in MS. in the Royal Academy of History, Madrid.

Footnote 93:

‘Calendar of Spanish State Papers,’ Supplement to vols. i and ii.

Footnote 94:

Sandoval, in his ‘Historia de Carlos V.,’ gives a glowing account of the festivities that followed, and especially of a ridiculously fulsome sermon preached by the Bishop of Malaga on the occasion, laying quite a malicious emphasis upon poor Joan’s devotion to what was called in Spain ‘Christianity,’ or rather the strict Catholic ritual.

Footnote 95:

These interesting letters are in MS. in the Royal Academy of History, Madrid, A 11. Some of them are quoted by Rodriguez Villa in his ‘Dona Juana la Loca.’

Footnote 96:

Royal Academy of History, Madrid, A 9, and Rodriguez Villa.

Footnote 97:

He even had a letter written, as if by his child Charles of three years old, to King Ferdinand praying that his mamma might be allowed to come home to them.

Footnote 98:

When the will was signed Isabel called her husband to her bedside, and with tears made him swear that, neither by a second marriage nor otherwise, would he try to deprive Joan of the crown. She fell back then prostrate and was thought to be dead, but afterwards revived.

Footnote 99:

Zurita, ‘Anales de Aragon.’

Footnote 100:

A full account of the progress of events from day to day at the time is given in Documents Ineditos, vol 18.

Footnote 101:

Ferdinand, after the Cortes had taken the oath of allegiance, addressed to them a document (quoted in full by Zurita) saying that when Queen Isabel provided in her will for the case of Joan’s incapacity to rule, she had not gone further into particulars out of consideration for her daughter; although the latter had, whilst she was in Spain, shown signs of mental disturbance. The time had now come, said Ferdinand, to inform the Cortes in strict secrecy of the real state of affairs. Since Joan’s return to Flanders reports from Ferdinand’s agents, and from Philip himself, which were exhibited to the Cortes, said that her malady had increased, and that her state was such that the case foreseen by Queen Isabel in her will had now arrived. The Cortes, after much deliberation and against the nobles, led by the Duke of Najera, thereupon decided to acknowledge Ferdinand as ruler owing to the incapacity of Joan.

Footnote 102:

Zurita, ‘Anales de Aragon.’

Footnote 103:

Discovered in the Alburquerque archives by Sr. Rodriguez Villa, and published by him in his ‘Doña Juana La Loca.’

Footnote 104:

It has already been mentioned on page 26 that, according to Galindez, a will of Henry IV. leaving the crown of Castile to the Beltraneja had come into Ferdinand’s possession on Isabel’s death. The authority for the statement that Ferdinand offered marriage to the Beltraneja at this juncture is principally Zurita, ‘Anales de Aragon,’ and it was adopted by Mariana and later historians. Mr. Prescott scornfully rejects the whole story, without, as it seems to me, any reason whatever for doing so, except that it tells against Ferdinand’s character. It is surely too late in the day to hope to save _that_.

Footnote 105:

‘Collection de Voyages des Souverains des Pays Bas,’ vol. i.

Footnote 106:

From a most entertaining Spanish account in manuscript in the Royal Academy of History, Madrid, in which the courtiers are mercilessly chaffed.

Footnote 107:

‘Spanish State Papers Calendar,’ vol. i. Peter Martyr (Epist. 300) says that Katharine did her best to solace, comfort and entertain her sister Joan, but that the latter would take pleasure in nothing, and only loved solitude and darkness. In order to preserve appearances, the treaty arranged and signed before Joan’s arrival at Windsor was ostensibly entered into by Philip as ruler of Flanders, not as King of Castile; but its whole object obviously was to strengthen Philip in Spain.

Footnote 108:

None of Ferdinand’s envoys were allowed to see Joan at Corunna, but when the great Castilian nobles, Count Benavente and Marquis de Villena, came to pay homage, Joan was seated by the side of her husband, and the reception hall was thrown open to the public. This was necessary in consequence of the jealousy of Castilians against foreigners, and their insistence upon Joan’s sovereignty; but it was the only occasion on which Philip openly associated her with his government.

Footnote 109:

See the draft summons to nobles and gentry, kept ready for the eventuality, reproduced by Rodriguez Villa, ‘Doña Juana la Loca.’

Footnote 110:

Her grand-daughter, another Joan, sister of Philip II. and Princess of Portugal, had also after her widowhood this curious fancy to keep her face hidden.

Footnote 111:

The part played by Jimenez at this period has always been a puzzling problem. He was apparently in the full confidence of Philip, but it is impossible to believe that he was not really acting in concert with Ferdinand at the time. He probably knew that one way or the other Philip was bound to disappear very soon, and his presence at the crisis would enable him, as it actually did, to keep firm hold upon the government until Ferdinand returned. His anxiety to get the custody of Joan seems to point to this also, as the person who held the Queen was the master of the situation.

Footnote 112:

Estanques’ ‘Cronica’ in Documentos Ineditos, vol. viii.

Footnote 113:

Although, as was usual, Philip’s Italian physician vehemently denied that there were any indications of poison on the remains, there can be but little doubt that Philip was murdered by agents of Ferdinand. The statement to that effect was freely and publicly made at the time, but the authorities were always afraid to prosecute those who made them. See ‘Calendar of Spanish State Papers,’ Supplement to Vol. i., p. xxxvii. There were many persons who attributed Philip’s death, not to Ferdinand, but to the Inquisition, which Philip had offended by softening its rigour, and suspending the chief Inquisitors, Deza and Lucero; but this is very improbable.

Footnote 114:

‘Collection de Voyages des Souverains des Pays Bas,’ vol. i. It is here stated that foreign officers of the household broke up all the gold and silver plate they could lay hands on to turn into money, and pay their way back to Flanders.

Footnote 115:

‘Collection de Voyages des Souverains des Pays Bas.’

Footnote 116:

On the very day that Philip died, an attempt was made by a faction of nobles to obtain possession of the young Prince. The keeper of the Castle of Simancas was on his guard, as he knew of the King’s illness, and refused admittance to any but the two gentlemen who bore Philip’s signed order for the child to be delivered to them. When the morrow brought news of the King’s death, the Seneschal refused to obey the order, and defied the forces sent to capture the fortress.

Footnote 117:

The monks at first flatly refused to have the corpse moved, and the Bishop of Burgos reproved the Queen. Joan, however, fell into such a fury, that they were forced to obey.

Footnote 118:

An interesting letter from Ferdinand’s secretary, Conchillos, who was at Burgos, to Almazan, who accompanied Ferdinand in Italy (Royal Academy of History, Salazar A 12, reproduced by Sr. Rodriguez Villa), dated 23rd December, gives a vivid picture of the confusion and scandal caused by this sudden caprice of the Queen. He says that though they had all done their best to prevent any one speaking to her but her father’s partisans, the Marquis of Villena, his opponent, is the person she welcomes most. ‘With this last caprice of the Queen there is no one, big or little, who any longer denies that she is out of her mind, except Juan Lopez, who says that she is as sane as her mother was, and lends her money for all this nonsense.’

Footnote 119:

Jimenez also raised a force of one thousand picked soldiers under an Italian commander to enable him to keep the upper hand.

Footnote 120:

Puebla to Ferdinand, Spanish Calendar, vol. i. 409.

Footnote 121:

Peter Martyr, Epistolæ.

Footnote 122:

Villena was against Ferdinand, though Joan liked him. She probably meant that it was he who had inspired the protest.

Footnote 123:

The Castilian jealousy of Aragonese government, which was really at the bottom of the adherence of the nobility to Philip, was not by any means dead; and, but for the firmness of Jimenez and the diplomacy of Ferdinand, it is quite probable that a league of nobles would have seized Joan at this time and have governed in her name. Most of the greater Castilian nobles appear to have made mutual protests against the assumption of rule in Castile by Ferdinand; and in the archives of the Duke of Frias there is one dated 19th June 1507, just before Ferdinand landed at Valencia, and signed by the Marquis Pacheco, solemnly repudiating Ferdinand as King, swearing to be loyal to Joan, and attributing anything that he may subsequently do to the contrary effect, to intimidation and force. As these protests were kept secret the nobles made themselves safe either way.

Footnote 124:

The Marquis of Villena had just been brought to his side, and somewhat later Juan Manuel was bribed to give up his fortresses, though he himself retired to Flanders, for he would never trust Ferdinand. The only great noble who continued to hold out was the Duke of Najera.

Footnote 125:

Copied by Rodriguez Villa.

Footnote 126:

It is in the immediate neighbourhood of Burgos, and one of the coldest places in Spain.

Footnote 127:

And at a later period, when that danger was at an end, the fear of scandal being caused in a court so slavishly Catholic by Joan’s violent hatred of the religious services.

Footnote 128:

This strangely privileged corps has always had the duty to guard the sovereigns of Castile personally inside their apartments. The men are all drawn by right from the inhabitants of the town of Espinosa only.

Footnote 129:

Calendar, Spanish State Papers, Supplement to vol. i. All the documents quoted in narrating this period of Joan’s life are from the same source, and from the collection of the Royal Academy of History (Rodriguez Villa).

Footnote 130:

By a long series of intrigues Chièvres had forced the hands of Jimenez to have Charles and Joan proclaimed joint sovereigns even before the arrival of the former. The Pope and the Emperor had been persuaded to address Charles as Catholic King upon Ferdinand’s death; but in the face of the discontent of the Castilian nobles it was necessary for Charles at last to make all manner of promises as to his future residence in Spain, respect for Spanish traditions, and avoidance of using Spanish money for foreign purposes, as well as that to which reference is made in the text with regard to Joan, before he could be fully acknowledged. He broke most of his pledges at once, and so precipitated the great rising of the _Comuneros_. See ‘Vie de Chièvres’ by Varilla.

Footnote 131:

Denia told the rebels that he had appealed to the Queen for a certificate of his dismissal, but what he really asked for was her written order to stay. In reply, she told him to go about his business and talk to her no more. He was, however, successful in getting a letter from the young Infanta to the revolutionary Junta praying them not to send the marchioness away, but it had no effect. The Infanta got into sad disgrace with her brother for her alleged kindness and sympathy with the rebels, but she spiritedly defended herself, and appealed to this letter of hers in favour of the Denias as proof that she did what she could in very difficult and dangerous circumstances. (Letters from Simancas copied by Señor Rodriguez Villa.)

Footnote 132:

It was one of the principal allegations of the government, that, although Joan never signed anything for the rebels, her verbal orders were at once taken down in notarial form and acted upon as royal decrees.

Footnote 133:

One of her demands was that all her women should be sent away, as they were. Her hatred of her own sex was remarkable.

Footnote 134:

The Admiral of Castile and other nobles at the time endeavoured to prevail upon Joan to take the direction of affairs under _their_ guidance; but she refused just as obstinately to give her signature to them as she had to the rebels. Denia writes to the Emperor that the Admiral is very anxious to cure the Queen; but in no case will it be allowed without the Emperor’s permission. ‘Besides, it would be another resurrection of Lazarus.’ The bitterest complaints of Denia and his methods were sent by the great nobles to Charles, whilst Denia could say no good word for them.

Footnote 135:

Mr. Bergenroth translated ‘_hacerle premia_,’ ‘applying torture,’ and it may be so translated. I prefer, however, the wider interpretation; though, no doubt, Denia meant to recommend physical coercion.

Footnote 136:

The Emperor ordered her to be taken to Toro in 1527, but Denia was afraid of forcing her to go.

Footnote 137:

Denia’s account of the interview with Borgia (confirmed by the latter) is extremely curious. The priestly Duke said, as she would do nothing else, she might recite the ‘General Confession,’ and he would absolve her. ‘Can you absolve?’ she asked. ‘Yes!’ he replied, ‘with the exception of certain cases.’ ‘Then,’ said the Queen, ‘you recite the General Confession.’ This Borgia did, and asked her whether she said the same. ‘Yes,’ she replied; and ‘she then permitted him to absolve her.’ It will be seen that there was not much submission in this. Only a day or so afterwards she appears to have flown into a terrible passion because some new hangings and gold ornaments had been placed on the corridor altar; and she refused to eat until they had been removed, and the altar left plain as before.

Footnote 138:

For particulars of this portrait, hitherto unknown, see ‘Calendars of Spanish State Papers,’ vol. viii., edited by Martin Hume.

Footnote 139:

Ambassades de Noailles, vol. ii. p. 99.

Footnote 140:

Antonio de Guaras to the Duke of Alburquerque. ‘Antonio de Guaras,’ by Dr. R. Garnett. For particulars of this personage, Antonio de Guaras, see ‘Españoles é Ingleses,’ por Martin Hume. Madrid y Londres, 1903.

Footnote 141:

Correspondance de Cardinal de Granvelle.

Footnote 142:

These were all councillors in the interest and pay of the Emperor, and were pledged in any case to favour the match.

Footnote 143:

Record Office. Record Commission Transcripts, Brussels, vol. i.

Footnote 144:

Chronicle of Queen Jane and Queen Mary. Camden Society.

Footnote 145:

Chronicle of Queen Jane and Queen Mary. Camden Society.

Footnote 146:

On the 21st January 1554 the Emperor wrote to Philip sending him the treaty for ratification, and asked him to send powers for the formal betrothal, since the English insist that when, by the blessing of God, the marriage takes place you shall take an oath to respect the laws and privileges of England: ‘_but the Queen confidently assures us that secretly everything shall be done to our liking, and we believe this_.’ MSS. Simancas. Estado, 808.

Footnote 147:

‘The Coming of Philip the Prudent’ in ‘The Year after the Armada,’ by Martin Hume.

Footnote 148:

Renard to the Emperor, 27th March 1554. Record Commission Transcripts, also printed by Tytler.

Footnote 149:

Full details of Philip’s voyage and arrival in England will be found in ‘The Coming of Philip the Prudent’ in ‘The Year after the Armada,’ by Martin Hume.

Footnote 150:

Renard to the Emperor, 9th June 1554, Brussels Transcripts, Record Office.

Footnote 151:

‘The Coming of Philip the Prudent,’ in ‘The Year After the Armada,’ by Martin Hume. Philip himself brought 600 Andalusian jennets to improve the English breed of horses.

Footnote 152:

Though the palace is a crumbling ruin, the door in the garden wall remains.

Footnote 153:

This, I am aware, is contrary to the statements of most English historians, and especially of Mr. Froude. The evidence in favour of my view of the King’s attitude is stated in my essay called ‘The Coming of Philip the Prudent,’ in ‘The Year After the Armada’ and other historical essays. Mr. Froude and his predecessors depended too implicitly upon the entirely untrustworthy and biassed accounts sent by Noailles to France, and the similarly inimical Venetian agent’s version.

Footnote 154:

‘The Coming of Philip the Prudent.’

Footnote 155:

Ruy Gomez wrote from Richmond, 24th August 1554, to Eraso. ‘The King entertains the Queen excellently, and knows very well how to pass over what is not good in her for the sensibility of the flesh. He keeps her so contented that truly the other day, when they were alone together, she almost made love to him, and he answered in the same fashion. As for these gentlemen (_i.e._, the English councillors), his behaviour towards them is such that they themselves confess that they have never yet had a King in England who so soon won the hearts of all men.’ MSS. Simancas Estado, 808. In November 1554 Gonzalo Perez wrote to Vasquez: ‘The English are now so civil you would hardly believe it. The kindness and gifts they have received, and are receiving every day, from the King would soften the very stones. The Queen is a saint, and I feel sure that God will help us for her sake.’—MSS. Simancas Estado, 808.

Footnote 156:

Ambassades de Noailles, vol. iii. Leyden, 1763.

Footnote 157:

It had been announced and was generally believed that Mary was dead, and the citizens were overjoyed to see her in an open litter with Philip and Pole riding by her side.

Footnote 158:

Badoero to the Doge. Venetian State Papers. 15th December 1558.

Footnote 159:

Michaeli, the Venetian Envoy (‘Calendar of Venetian State Papers’), mentions one extraordinary journey of a courier at this time from Paris to London in twenty-five hours.

Footnote 160:

It is related by the Flemish envoy Courteville that on his way through Canterbury he entered the Cathedral with his spurs on, against the rule; and on being charged with this by a student, he paid the fine by emptying his purse of gold in the student’s cap.

Footnote 161:

Feria to the King. MSS., ‘Simancas Estado,’ 811.

Footnote 162:

This English fleet was mainly instrumental in gaining for the Flemings a great victory over the French under Termes in July 1558.

Footnote 163:

MSS., ‘Simancas Estado,’ 811.

Footnote 164:

MSS., ‘Simancas Estado,’ 811.

Footnote 165:

This account of Mary’s last hours is from the Life of Jane Dormer, Duchess of Feria, by her confessor and secretary, Father Clifford.

Footnote 166:

A curious account of the splendid festival, which celebrated at the same time the signature of the peace with England and Isabel’s baptism, is given by the Spanish ambassador. (Spanish Calendar, vol. viii., edited by Martin Hume.)

Footnote 167:

The Bishop of Limoges, writing to Cardinal Lorraine soon after the betrothal (8th August 1559), says: ‘Never was a prince so delighted with any creature as he (_i.e._, Philip) is with the Catholic Queen, his wife. It is impossible to put his joy in a letter.’—L. Paris, ‘Negociations sous François II.‘

Footnote 168:

Miss Freer’s ‘Elizabeth de Valois,’ quoted from Godefroi.

Footnote 169:

‘Documentos Ineditos,’ vol. iii. Philip to Francis II. from Valladolid.

Footnote 170:

Bibliothèque Nationale, ‘Fonds François,’ No. 7237, where there is a considerable collection of the poems of both mother and daughter unprinted. Miss Frere quotes some of Catharine’s lines to Isabel, but not the above.

Footnote 171:

‘Documentos Ineditos,’ vol. iii.

Footnote 172:

The account of Isabel’s voyage and reception is drawn mainly from the narratives of eyewitnesses in the correspondence published by M. L. Paris in ‘Negociations sous François II.‘

Footnote 173:

‘Négociations sous François II.,’ p. 173.

Footnote 174:

Even more comforted, we are told, were the poor maids of honour, whose own beds and baggage had gone astray.

Footnote 175:

Brantome, ‘Dames Illustres.’

Footnote 176:

Brantome says he had this story from one of Isabel’s ladies in waiting who was present.

Footnote 177:

_i.e._ Anne of Bourbon Montpensier.

Footnote 178:

‘Negociations sous Francois II.,’ p. 706.

Footnote 179:

Brantome, ‘Dames Illustres.’

Footnote 180:

‘Negociations sous François II.‘

Footnote 181:

_i.e._ Margaret of Valois, La Reine Margot, who afterwards married Henry IV., the Bearnais on the evil day of St. Bartholomew, and was subsequently put aside by him.

Footnote 182:

Particulars of these intrigues will be found in ‘The Love Affairs of Mary Queen of Scots’ by Martin Hume.

Footnote 183:

She afterwards married Philip himself as his fourth wife.

Footnote 184:

Négociations sous François II.

Footnote 185:

_Ibid._

Footnote 186:

Letter from the French ambassador in Spain to Catharine de’ Medici, quoted in ‘Vie d’Elisabeth de Valois,’ par le Marquis du Prat.

Footnote 187:

Speaking of this illness Brantôme says quaintly, ‘Elle tomba malade en telle extrémité qu’elle fut abandonnée des medecins. Sur quoy il y eut un certain petit medecin Italien qui pourtant n’avoit grande vogue à la cour, qui se presentant au roy, dit que, si on le vouloit laisser faire, il la gueriroit, ce que le roy permit: aussi estoit elle morte. Il entreprend et luy donne une medecine, qu’apres l’avoir prise on luy vit tout a coup monter miraculeusement la couleur au visage et reprendre son parler et puis après sa convalescence. Et cependant toute la cour et tout le peuple d’Espagne rompaient les chemins de processions, d’allées et venues qu’ils fasoient aux eglises et aux hospitaux pour sa Santé, les uns en chemise les autres nuds pieds, nues testes, offrans offrandes, prieres, oraisons et intercessions à Dieu par jeusnes, macerations de corps et autres telles sainctes et bonnes dévotions pour sa Santé.’

Brantôme arrived in Spain soon after her recovery, and vividly describes the joy and gratitude of the people at her convalescence. He saw her, he says, go out in her carriage for the first time after her recovery to give thanks to the Virgin of Guadalupe, and asserts that she looked more lovely than ever as she sat at the door of the carriage for the people to see her. She was dressed in white satin covered with silver trimming, her face being uncovered. ‘Mais je crois que jamais rien ne fut veu si beau que cette reine, comme je pris l’hardiesse de luy dire.’ (Dames Illustres.)

Footnote 188:

L’Aubépine to Catharine. ‘Bibliothèque Nationale,’ printed in an appendix to Du Prat’s ‘Elizabeth de Valois.’

Footnote 189:

Isabel to Catharine. Bibliothèque Nationale, No. 39, printed in the appendix of Du Prat’s ‘Elizabeth de Valois.’

Footnote 190:

Archives Nationales, Paris C. K., 1393, quoted in the Introduction of the Spanish Calendar of Elizabeth, edited by Martin Hume.

Footnote 191:

Bibliothèque Nationale, Colbert, vol. 140. ‘Bref discours de l’arrivée de la Reine d’Espagne à St. Jehan de Luz.’

Footnote 192:

It is usually assumed (and amongst others by Father Florez in ‘Reinas Catolicas’) that the massacre of St. Bartholomew seven years later (1572) in Paris was arranged at this meeting. There is, however, no proof that such was the case. Philip and the Spanish party, it is true, were loud in their praises of this enormity, but much happened between Bayonne and Bartholomew.

Footnote 193:

Isabel herself ascribed the blessing to her prayers to the body of St. Eugène, which she had with great difficulty persuaded the French to surrender to Spain. It was carried with great pomp from St. Denis to Toledo, and Isabel was constant in her adoration of it.

Footnote 194:

French ambassador Fourquevault to Catharine, June 1567. Bibliothèque Nationale, No. 220 (Du Prat).

Footnote 195:

_Ibid._, No. 8.

Footnote 196:

Fourquevault to Catharine, 3rd October 1568. Du Prat.

Footnote 197:

Fourquevault to Catharine, 3rd October 1568. Du Prat.

Footnote 198:

Father Florez tells of her that on one occasion she was brought to death’s door by her loathing her food; and as all mundane remedies had been tried in vain, the King sent for the blessed friar Orozco. The friar told the Queen he had a remedy recommended by his grandmother which would cure her if she would take it. The Queen consented, and the friar cooked a partridge and bacon before her, reciting verses of the Magnificat at each turn of the spit. When the dish was ready he took it to the Queen and said, ‘Eat, my lady, in the name of God, for the mere smell of this would make a dead man hungry.’ Needless to say, Anna ate and was cured.

Footnote 199:

She was much beloved, especially in Madrid, and died in childbed at the Escorial in 1611.

Footnote 200:

An interminable account of the splendours of the occasion, for which the favourite Duke of Lerma was mainly responsible, will be found in ‘Documentos Ineditos,’ lxi.

Footnote 201:

To show how uncertain were still the relations between the people of the two countries, it may be mentioned that an eyewitness of the ceremonies of the exchange, etc., mentions as a marvellous thing that there was no fighting between Spaniards and Frenchmen.

Footnote 202:

The only portion of this building now standing is the ancient Gothic church where King Alfonso and Queen Victoria Eugénie were recently married. It stands close to the famous picture gallery in the Prado.

Footnote 203:

From an unpublished MS. in the British Museum. Add. 10,236.

Footnote 204:

From MSS. of Diego de Soto, de Aguilar Royal Academy of History, Madrid, G. 32, and another in British Museum, Add. 10,236.

Footnote 205:

Father Florez and other ecclesiastical writers give many instances of her liberality in contributing to pious works, and in Reinas Catolicas there is an account of Isabel’s action at the time (in 1624), that a ‘heretic had outraged the Most Holy Sacrament in this my convent of St. Philip.’ In addition to the services of atonement for the outrage in all the churches, ‘the royal family made such an atonement as never was seen, as befitted an insult to the greatest of the mysteries. The corridors of the palace were adorned with all the valuable and beautiful possessions of the crown, and a separate altar was erected in the name of each royal personage. That of the Queen attracted the attention of all beholders for the taste it exhibited, and the immense value of the jewels that adorned it belonging to her Majesty. The value of these jewels was computed at three million and a half’ (of reals).

Footnote 206:

‘Voyage d’Espagne.’ Aersens van Sommerdyk, and many other visitors to Spain at the time testify to this. See also ‘Relatione dell’ Ambasciatore di Venetia.’ British Museum MSS., Add. 8,701.

Footnote 207:

Historia del Arte Dramatico en España (translated from the German of A. F. Schack).

Footnote 208:

Howell’s ‘Familiar Letters.’

Footnote 209:

The steps of the Church of St. Philip in the Calle Mayor was so called _El Mentidero_.

Footnote 210:

Speech (published) by Don Eugenio Hartzenbusch to the Royal Academy of History, Madrid, 1861, where the whole question is discussed.

Footnote 211:

The house now belonging to Count Oñate, just out of the Puerta del Sol.

Footnote 212:

It is certain that Olivares urged Philip most fervently to attend to business in the early years of his reign. See my chapter on Philip IV. in ‘The Cambridge Modern History,’ vol. iv., for a letter on the subject from Philip.

Footnote 213:

On the site of the present Teatro español in the Plaza de Sant Ana.

Footnote 214:

Philip had had a son by another lady high at Court three years before this, in 1626, of whom an account from unpublished sources will be found in ‘The Year after the Armada,’ etc., by Martin Hume.

Footnote 215:

From an unpublished contemporary account in Italian. B. M. Add. 8,703.

Footnote 216:

Ashburton Collection.

Footnote 217:

Soto de Aguilar, one of Philip’s gentlemen of the wardrobe, wrote an interminable account of all the festivities of his time (MS. Royal Academy of History. Copy in the writer’s possession), from which have been derived many details.

Footnote 218:

The garden was that of Monterey, and with the two adjoining gardens, which for this occasion were thrown into one, occupied the whole space from the Calle de Alcala to the Carrera de San Geronimo, called the Salon del Prado.

Footnote 219:

Amongst other trifles offered to the ladies at this feast were some of the small jars (_bucaros_) made of fine scented white clay, which it was at the time a feminine vice to eat. Madame D’Aulnoy gives a curious account of the evil effects produced by this strange eatable. She also mentions the curious craze in Madrid at the time amongst people of fashion to throw eggshells filled with scent at each other in the theatres, parties, and even whilst promenading in carriages. Philip himself was much addicted to this pastime.

Footnote 220:

This was the garden on the corner of the Carrera de San Geronimo and the Prado, now occupied by the Villahermosa palace and grounds.

Footnote 221:

Philip is represented as wearing such a collar in his portrait by Velazquez at Dulwich College.

Footnote 222:

Although he confesses that when most of the great folks had retired, and daylight lit up the scene of revelry, great numbers of people were found hidden in the shrubberies.

Footnote 223:

On the spot where the Bank of Spain now stands, until a few years ago the site of the palace and grounds of the Marquis of Alcañices.

Footnote 224:

Appendix to Mesonero Romanos’ ‘El Antiguo Madrid.’ An account of this feast, though much less full, is also given in the newsletters of the date published by Sr. Rodriguez Villa in ‘La Corte de España en 1636 y 1637.’

Footnote 225:

The policy and aims of Olivares are fully set forth in ‘Spain, Its Greatness and Decay,’ Cambridge Historical Series, by Martin Hume.

Footnote 226:

Olivares was notoriously offensive to ladies. On one occasion when Isabel gave an opinion on State affairs he told Philip that monks must be kept for praying and women for child-bearing.

Footnote 227:

One hundred and fifty persons in Madrid alone were cast into dungeons for not being liberal enough with their contributions on this occasion.

Footnote 228:

Relatione dell’ Ambasciatore di Venetia (MS. British Museum, Add. 8,701), and also an account attributed (doubtfully) to Quevedo, printed in vol. iii. of the Semanario Erudito.

Footnote 229:

News letter of 11th October in Semanario Erudito, vol. xxxiii.

Footnote 230:

Matias de Novoa, ‘Memorias.’ He was one of Philip’s chamberlains.

Footnote 231:

Life of Sor Maria de Agreda, quoted by Father Florez.

Footnote 232:

Cartas de la Venerable Madre Sor Maria de Agreda, edited by F. Silvela. For two years after Isabel’s death all comedies and theatrical representations were forbidden at the instance of Sor Maria, but in 1648 Philip consented to their resumption.

Footnote 233:

‘Cartas de la Venerable Madre Sor Maria de Agreda y Felipe IV.’ Edited by Silvela.

Footnote 234:

Marie Anne de Montpensier, the daughter of Gaston, Duke of Orleans (La Grande Demoiselle), was suggested, but rejected at once as impossible, both from the French and Spanish point of view! It would, indeed, have further alienated, rather than have drawn together, the French regency and Spain.

Footnote 235:

‘Cartas de la Venerable Madre Sor Maria de Agreda y Felipe IV.‘

Footnote 236:

The progress and events from day to day are related by Mascarenhas, Bishop of Leyria, who accompanied the Queen, in ‘Viage de la Serenisima Reina Doña Margarita de Austria.’ Madrid, 1650.

Footnote 237:

It has puzzled many inquirers why the marriages of the kings of Spain should usually have taken place in poverty-stricken little villages like Navalcarnero and Quintanapalla, where no adequate accommodation existed, or could be created. The real reason appears to be that when a royal marriage took place in a town the latter was freed for ever after from paying tribute. The poorer the place, therefore, the smaller the sacrifice of public revenue.

Footnote 238:

It is all described in Amador de los Rios Historia de Madrid, and the prodigious sums spent are given.

Footnote 239:

Cartas de Sor Maria.

Footnote 240:

_Ibid._

Footnote 241:

In course of time she married her cousin the Emperor Leopold.

Footnote 242:

‘Reinas Catolicas.’ Florez.

Footnote 243:

Even thus early she began to introduce Austrian etiquette in her receptions; such, for instance, as causing the ladies presented to her to pass before her, in by one door and out by an opposite door (Avisos de Barrionuevo).

Footnote 244:

Avisos de Barrionuevo, vol. ii. p. 303 (February 1656).

Footnote 245:

_Ibid._ vol. i.

Footnote 246:

Barrionuevo, vol. ii.

Footnote 247:

The comedy of San Gaetano had been represented at the special desire of the Queen shortly before, not without some difficulty from the Inquisition, and the crush to see it was so great that several people were killed.

Footnote 248:

Barrionuevo, vol. ii. 308.

Footnote 249:

Cartas de la Venerable Sor Maria de Agreda.

Footnote 250:

Barrionuevo, vol. iii. 63.

Footnote 251:

One day (8th November 1657) she suddenly asked for some _Buñuelos_ (hot fritters), and men were sent out hurrying to the Plaza where they were sold. A great cauldron of 8 lbs. of them were brought smoking hot covered with honey, and Mariana ate greedily of them, to her great contentment.

Footnote 252:

Barrionuevo.

Footnote 253:

Cartas de la Venerable Sor Maria de Agreda. The King’s prayer came true, for the child died at the age of four.

Footnote 254:

The extravagance of these rejoicings produced a remonstrance from the nun to the King. ‘It is good and politic for your Majesty to receive the congratulations of your subjects ... but I do beseech you earnestly not to allow excessive sums to be spent on these festivities when there is a lack of money needful even for the defence of your crown. Let there be in them no offence to God.... It is good to rejoice for the birth of the prince, but let us do it with a clear conscience.’—_Cartas._

Footnote 255:

Barrionuevo. A curious circumstance is related by the same journalist as having taken place at the christening. The lady-in-waiting, as usual, handed the child to the little Infanta Margaret, aged six, who was the godmother; and the only clothing the babe wore was an extremely short tunic, the lower limbs being entirely bare. The little Infanta, shocked at what she considered disrespectful neglect, asked angrily why the prince was not properly dressed; and had to be told that it was done purposely in order that all might see that he was really a male.

Footnote 256:

Barrionuevo relates (vol. iv. p. 166), that a saintly Franciscan friar, upon being appealed to by Philip to pray for the health of his child, replied that he would do so, but a better prayer still would be for the King to give up his constant comedies and rejoicings and pray to God himself. This was in June 1658; and the nun was for ever giving to Philip the same advice.

Footnote 257:

‘Recueil des Instructions données aux ambassadeurs de France en Espagne,’ vol. i. (Morel Fatio.)

Footnote 258:

‘Journal du Voyage d’Espagne.’ Paris, 1669.

Footnote 259:

Luis de Haro alone took a household of 200 persons, whilst the King’s medical staff alone consisted of ten doctors and four barbers.

Footnote 260:

‘Viage del Rey N. S. a la Frontera de Francia.’ Castillo. Madrid, 1667.

Footnote 261:

The golilla, so characteristic of Philip’s reign, was a stiff cardboard projecting collar, the under surface of which was covered with cloth to match the doublet, and the upper surface lined with light silk.

Footnote 262:

Palamino. Life of Velazquez. All the sumptuary decrees were suspended. From this date the Spanish fashion in dress changed.

Footnote 263:

Cartas de Sor Maria.

Footnote 264:

Original Letters of Sir R. Fanshawe. January 1664.

Footnote 265:

An interesting account of this ceremony is given by Lady Fanshawe in her Memoirs.

Footnote 266:

This was Mariana’s daughter, the Infanta Margaret, so well recollected by Velazquez’s portraits of her. She was at this time thirteen years old, and had just been betrothed to the Emperor Leopold, her cousin. She was married two years later, and died in 1673, at the age of twenty-two.

Footnote 267:

Memoirs of Lady Fanshawe.

Footnote 268:

It is related that when Philip was asked if the bodies of the saints should be brought into his room he said, ‘No, they can intercede in my favour just as well in the chapel as here.’

Footnote 269:

As soon as Philip breathed his last the Marquis of Malpica, who was on duty as principal gentleman-in-waiting and captain of the guard, went to the outer guardroom, and said to the assembled officers: ‘Companions, there is no more for us to do here. Go up and guard our King, Charles II.’ Philip had died in one of the lower ground-floor rooms of the palace. The above account is condensed from a contemporary unpublished MS. journal of a courtier in the ‘Biblioteca National,’ c. xxiv. 4. Lady Fanshawe also gives a very precise account of the lying-in-state, varying in some few details from the MS. narrative above referred to.

Footnote 270:

My diarist gives another instance of the heartless conduct of the nobles after the King’s death. When the body was to be transferred to the Escorial each of the chamberlains and officials insisted that it was not his duty to make the formal surrender, or to help to carry the corpse. The squabble was only ended by the Duke of Medina ordering his cousin Montealegre, to do it.

Footnote 271:

Fanshawe died in Spain soon after his recall, Lord Sandwich replacing him to conclude the treaty. See ‘Letters of Earl of Sandwich’ and ‘Fanshawe’s Letters.’ London.

Footnote 272:

An extremely detailed account of the events that accompanied the feud between Mariana and Don Juan will be found in a rare book called ‘Relation of the Differences that happened in the Court of Spain.’ London, 1678.

Footnote 273:

Montero de los Rios, ‘Historia de Madrid.’

Footnote 274:

‘Diario de los Sucesos de la Corte.’ MS. in the Royal Academy of History, Madrid.

Footnote 275:

A full description of the condition of Spain at the period, drawn from many contemporary sources, is given in ‘Spain, Its Greatness and Decay,’ by Martin Hume (Cambridge University Press).

Footnote 276:

The nobles and leaders were all excommunicated, and not even the King’s intercession could mollify the Pope until full reparation was made at tremendous cost, and penance done in most humiliating fashion.

Footnote 277:

The contemptible instability of the King is seen in a conversation he had with the prior of the Escorial the day after Valenzuela’s capture. The prior had been formerly urged most earnestly by Charles to shelter and defend the favourite, and a written warrant to that effect was given. As no written order for his capture was exhibited the Prior presented himself before the King to explain what had been done. Before he could speak Charles giggled and said, ‘So they caught him!’ ‘Yes, sire, they caught him,’ replied the prior. ‘And his wife too?’ asked the King. ‘His wife is now in Madrid, sire, and I come now to crave mercy and protection for both of them.’ ‘For his wife but not for him,’ said Charles. ‘But surely your Majesty will not abandon your unhappy minister in this sad strait.’ ‘You may take it from me,’ replied Charles, ‘that a holy woman has had a revelation from God that Valenzuela was to be captured at the Escorial.’ ‘A revelation of the devil more likely,’ blurted out the disgusted prior. ‘And pray do not think, sire, that I am interceding for Valenzuela for interests of my own: I never got anything from him in the world but this benzoin lozenge.’ With this Charles jumped back in a fright. ‘Put it away! put it away!’ he cried. ‘Perhaps it is witchcraft or poison.’

(The narrative is from an MS. relation written by one of the monks at the time, and now in the Escorial Library. Portions of it have been quoted by Don Modesto Lafuente, ‘Historia de Espana,’ vol. xii.)

Footnote 278:

‘Memoires touchans le mariage de Charles II. avec Marie Louise,’ from which many of details related in the text concerning the marriage in France and the journey to the frontier are taken.

Footnote 279:

On the return of the Duke of Pastrana to Spain after the marriage at Fontainebleau, Marie Louise sent by him her first letter to her husband. I have had the good fortune to come across this hitherto unpublished letter in the Biblioteca Nacional, Madrid. It is badly written, in a great smeared school hand, evidently copied from a draft. I transcribe it here in full: ‘Monseigneur. Je ne puis laisser partir le duc de Pastrana sans tesmoigner à votre Majesté l’impatience que j’ai d’avoir l’honneur de la voir. Je suplie en mesme temps votre Majesté d’estre bien persuadée du respect que j’ai pour elle et de l’attachement inviolable avec lequel je serai toute ma vie, Monseigneur, de votre Majesté la tres humble et tres observante, Marie Louise.’

Footnote 280:

They are described with the minuteness of a milliner’s bill in ‘Descripcion de las circunstancias esenciales ... en la funcion de los desposorios del Rey N. S. Don Carlos II.’ Madrid, 1679.

Footnote 281:

Mme. D’Aulnoy’s celebrated ‘Voyage D’Espagne’ is usually quoted largely for local colour in the histories and romances of this period. I am, however, of opinion that very little credit can be given to it, so far as the authoress’s own adventures are concerned. I have grave doubts indeed, whether Mme. D’Aulnoy went to Spain at all. Much of her information is easily traceable to other books, and the rest, apart from the love romances that occupy so many of her pages, may well have been gathered from her cousin, who was married to a Spanish nobleman. The cousin is represented as a friend of Don Juan, and the conversation very likely did take place with her, as Mme. D’Aulnoy represents, though perhaps the latter was not present.

Footnote 282:

‘Voyage d’Espagne.’ La Haye, 1692.

Footnote 283:

When he consented to the return of some of Mariana’s friends to Court he was told that Don Juan would object. ‘What does that matter?’ he replied. ‘I wish it, and that is enough.’

Footnote 284:

‘Recueil des Instructions aux Ambassadeurs de France (Espagne).’ Paris, 1894.

Footnote 285:

The leather or damask curtains of the coaches were usually kept closed except by confessedly immodest women; but on such occasions as these, they were sometimes opened to satisfy the crowd, who wished to welcome royal persons.

Footnote 286:

‘Descripcion de las circunstancias,’ etc. Madrid, 1679.

Footnote 287:

_Ibid._

Footnote 288:

‘Semanario Erudito,’ vol. ii., where a pamphlet of the period is reproduced accusing her of complicity in the murder of her cousin, Don Diego de Aragon.

Footnote 289:

The lively Mme. D’Aulnoy gives a description of a scene previous to the departure of the young Queen’s household from Madrid. The ladies had been privately mustered in the Retiro Gardens for the King to see how they would look mounted when they entered the capital in state with the Queen. ‘The young ladies of the palace were quite pretty, but, good God! what figures the Duchess of Terranova and Doña Maria de Aragon cut. They were both mounted on mules, all bristling and clanking with silver, and with a great saddle cloth of black velvet, like those used by physicians on their horses in Paris. They were both dressed in widows’ weeds, which I have already described to you, both very ugly and very old, with an air of severity and imperiousness, and they wore great hats tied on by strings under their chins. There were twenty gentlemen around them holding them up, for fear they should fall, though they would never have allowed one to touch them thus unless they had been in fear of breaking their necks.—‘Voyage d’Espagne.’ The same authority says that the Duchess of Terranova alone took with her on the journey, ‘six litters of different coloured embroidered velvet, and forty mules caparisoned as richly as ever I have seen.’

Footnote 290:

‘Letters de Mme. de Villars.’ Paris, 1823.

Footnote 291:

Biblioteca Nacional, Madrid, MSS. C., 1–5, transcribed by the present writer.

Footnote 292:

‘Mémoires de la Cour d’Espagne,’ par M. de Villars.

Footnote 293:

‘Mémoires.’ Villars.

Footnote 294:

Lettres de Mme. Villars.

Footnote 295:

Mme. D’Aulnoy thus describes the King’s appearance at this first interview with his bride: ‘I have heard that the Queen was extremely surprised at his appearance. He had a very short, wide jacket (_just au corps_) of grey barracan; his breeches were of velvet, and his stockings of very loose spun silk. He wore a very beautiful cravat which the Queen had sent him, but it was fastened rather too loosely. His hair was put behind his ears, and he wore a light grey hat.’—‘Voyage d’Espagne.’ La Haye, 1692.

Footnote 296:

A note on a previous page explains the reason why these small villages were chosen for the marriage ceremonies of the Kings of Spain.

Footnote 297:

‘Mémoires.’ Villars.

Footnote 298:

It will be seen that the sprightly letter-writer indulges here in an untranslatable pun. The carriage was without glass = glace, and she hoped the occupants would be without ice = glace.

Footnote 299:

Writing of this period, Mme. D’Aulnoy, who professes to have been in Madrid at the time, says that the Marchioness de la Fuente told her that: ‘the Queen had been much upset at the roughness of the Mistress of the Robes, who, seeing that her Majesty’s hair did not lie flat on the forehead, spat into her hand and approached for the purpose of sticking the straying lock down with saliva. The Queen resented this warmly, and rubbed hard with her pocket handkerchief upon the spot where this old woman had so dirtily wetted her forehead.... It is really quite pitiable the way this old Mistress of the Robes treats the Queen. I know for a fact that she will not allow her to have a single hair curled, and forbids her to go near a window or speak to a soul.’—‘Voyage d’Espagne.’

Footnote 300:

It was a hooped skirt of peculiar shape, fashionable in Spain, called a _guardainfante_, of which a specimen may be seen in the portrait of Mariana in the present volume.

Footnote 301:

‘Lettre de Mme. Villars à Mme. Coulange,’ 15th December 1679.

Footnote 302:

Nouvelle relation de la magnifique et royale entrée ... à Madrid par Marie Louise,’ etc. Paris, 1680.

Footnote 303:

‘Mémoires de la Cour d’Espagne.’ Villars.

Footnote 304:

Lettres de Mme. Villars à Mme. Coulange.

Footnote 305:

‘Voyage d’Espagne,’ Mme. D’Aulnoy. For the amount of credit to be given to Mme. D’Aulnoy, see note on a previous page.

Footnote 306:

_Gabacho_ is an opprobrious term applied to Frenchmen in Spain.

Footnote 307:

‘Mémoires de la Cour d’Espagne.’ Villars.

Footnote 308:

Mme. D’Aulnoy in her own Mémoires tells a curious though doubtful story of these perroquets of which Marie Louise was so fond. They had been brought from Paris, and the few sentences they had been taught were in French, so that the Duchess of Terranova thought herself justified in having them killed. When the Queen asked for them and learnt their fate she said nothing: but when next the Mistress of the Robes came to kiss her hand Marie Louise gave her two good sound slaps on the face instead. When the indignant Duchess with all her followers went in a rage to demand redress of the King, Marie Louise excused herself by saying that she gave the slaps overcome by the irresistible influence of a pregnant woman. This flattered the King and she was absolved.

Footnote 309:

‘Mémoires de la Cour d’Espagne.’ Villars.

Footnote 310:

‘Mémoires de la Cour d’Espagne.’ Villars. Even so, she was not allowed to mount her horses from the ground, but had to be driven in her coach to the place and mount the horse from the step of the carriage. One of her horses being very high spirited resented on one occasion this strange performance, and the Queen was thrown to the ground, much to her husband’s alarm. No one, it appears, dared to touch the Queen, even to raise her from the ground, until Charles had sufficiently recovered from the shock to do so himself. (Mme. D’Aulnoy.)

Footnote 311:

‘Mémoires.’ Villars.

Footnote 312:

‘Mémoires de la Cour d’Espagne.’ Villars.

Footnote 313:

‘Recueil des Instructions aux ambassadeurs de France.’ Paris, 1894.

Footnote 314:

In January 1685 the Duke of Montalto in Madrid wrote to Pedro Ronquillo, the ambassador in London. ‘The King attends to nothing but his hunting pastimes, and the Queen in tiring horses, as if she were a skilled horse-breaker. That is a pretty way to become pregnant! In short, my dear sir, it is quite clear that God determines to punish us on every side.’ Writing again, a month later (28th February), the same correspondent, after vilifying the Medina Celi government, says: ‘Neither the things in the palace or anywhere else here improve. It looks, on the contrary, as if the devil himself had taken them in hand. Medina Celi is very placid over it, and cares only for himself; the King has been wolf-hunting for a week thirty miles off, and there would be no harm in that if he would only despatch business. As for the Queen, Medina Celi positively encourages her in her pranks so as to be able to hold on to office by her. He does not care so long as others have to pay.’ Both the correspondents, it is needless to say, belonged to Mariana’s party. ‘Doc. Ined.,’ lxxix.

Footnote 315:

There was a document found in Marie Louise’s cabinet after her death, which purported to be a political guide, written to her at this period by Louis XIV. In this cynical document the Queen is advised how to gain advantage from the King’s weakness and ineptitude, and how to obtain control of him. She is to maintain an attitude between complaint and friendship with the Queen-Mother, but to be very wary with regard to her: she is advised to maintain Oropesa in the ministry, but not to trust him, or to allow him more power than he had. She is to continue to introduce French fashions, manners, etc., in the palace; and advice is given her as to how she should treat all the principal nobles. The manuscript concludes: ‘Withdraw this paper into your most secret keeping. Live for yourself and for your beloved France. In Spain they do not love you, as you know, and they do not fear you either, for faint hearts easily conceive suspicions, and strength is not needed to commit a cruelty.’ The original document is in the Bibliotéca Nacional, Madrid (H. II), and there is a Spanish translation of it in MSS. Add. 15,193, British Museum. The document has usually been assumed to be authentic, but I am rather inclined to regard it as one of the many means employed to blacken the French cause after Marie Louise’s death.

Footnote 316:

To the French ambassador who was in Spain in 1688, the Count de Rebenac, she gave the most intimate detailed reasons for her lack of issue connected with the constitution of the King. Rebenac repeated these confidences in his letters to Louis.

Footnote 317:

Mme. Quantin was a widow. It has been explained that all the ladies in the palace had to be maids or widows.

Footnote 318:

‘Doc. Ined.,’ lxxix.

Footnote 319:

‘Doc. Ined.,’ lxxix.

Footnote 320:

_Ibid._

Footnote 321:

MSS. of Father Léonard in the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris. Quoted by Morel Fatio in ‘Mémoires de la Cour d’Espagne.’

Footnote 322:

This was Susanne Duperroy, to whom Marie Louise left 3,000 doubloons in her will. Mme. Quantin herself received a legacy of 4,000 from the Queen.

Footnote 323:

‘Doc. Ined.,’ lxxix.

Footnote 324:

The letter is in the Archives of the Ministère des Affaires Étrangères, Paris, vol. 71. It has been transcribed by M. Morel Fatio.

Footnote 325:

‘Recueil des Instructions aux Ambassadeurs Français,’ Paris, 1894, and ‘Correspondance de Rebenac, Archives du Ministère des Affaires Etrangères.’

Footnote 326:

The tragic end of the Queen so distressed the French ambassador Rebenac that for a time he lost his reason after attending the funeral ceremony. In his subsequent correspondence with the King of France he made no secret of his belief that she had been murdered. The Duchess of Orleans, the Queen’s stepmother, thus refers to Rebenac’s statements in her correspondence: ‘Rebenac’s feelings have done no wrong to our young Queen of Spain. It is the sharp-nosed Count of Mansfeldt who poisoned her.’ De Torcy, in his ‘Mémoires,’ says: ‘The Count of Mansfeldt and Count Oropesa are both suspected of having been the authors of Marie Louise’s death, and take little care to exonerate themselves. The Marquis de Louville, in his ‘Mémoires,’ also distinctly states that the Queen was poisoned, and several other contemporary French authorities are no less certain.

Footnote 327:

The jewels taken by Count Benavente from Charles was valued at 180,000 crowns, and Mariana’s gift to her daughter-in-law 30,000.

Footnote 328:

Stanhope Correspondence in Lord Mahon’s ‘Spain under Charles II.‘

Footnote 329:

‘Reinas Catolicas,’ Father Florez.

Footnote 330:

Stanhope Correspondence.

Footnote 331:

‘Modesto Lafuente Historia de España.’

Footnote 332:

Stanhope Correspondence.

Footnote 333:

Stanhope says: ‘Our new junta, which raised so great expectations, at first, is now grown almost a jest; especially since, at the time they took away all pensions from poor widows and orphans, the Duke of Osuna, one of the richest men in Spain, procured himself a pension of 6000 crowns a year for life, by intercession of the confessor.’

Footnote 334:

‘Recueil des Instructions,’ etc.

Footnote 335:

Stanhope Correspondence, 3rd May 1696.

Footnote 336:

Stanhope reports, ‘There is now great noise of a miracle done by a piece of a waistcoat she died in, on an old lame nun, who, in great faith, earnestly desired it, and no sooner applied it to her lips, but she was perfectly well and threw away her crutches. This, with some other stories that will not be wanting, may in time grow up to a canonisation.’ Correspondence in ‘Spain under Charles II.‘

Footnote 337:

His recovery from this attack was attributed to the body of St. Diego, which was brought to his bed; and when the King got better, amidst the great rejoicings and bullfights to celebrate the miracle, Charles and his wife spent some days at Alcalá worshipping the grim relic.—_Stanhope._

Footnote 338:

Stanhope Correspondence.—_Mahon._

Footnote 339:

The Admiral of Castile, who was the Queen’s most ostentatious champion, though she often quarrelled with him, was really betraying her all the time (‘Recueil des Instructions’).

Footnote 340:

The account here given is taken mainly from a contemporary MS., written by an officer of the Inquisition and an adherent of Portocarrero, in the British Museum, Add. 10,241: and from another account printed in Madrid, 1787.

Footnote 341:

‘Stanhope Correspondence,’ _Mahon_, 11th June 1698.

Footnote 342:

Every detail of the correspondence will be found in the MSS. already referred to, and, in English, in ‘The Exorcism of Charles the Bewitched,’ in ‘The Year after the Armada,’ etc., by the present writer.

Footnote 343:

MSS. account already referred to. British Museum MSS., Add. 10,241.

Footnote 344:

This struggle, which cannot be described here, is fully narrated in ‘The Exorcism of Charles the Bewitched’ (‘Year After the Armada’), by Martin Hume.

Footnote 345:

Stanhope Correspondence.—_Mahon._

Footnote 346:

Stanhope Correspondence.—_Mahon._

Footnote 347:

There is no doubt whatever that the French claim through Maria Theresa and Anna of Austria, Queens of France, was the legitimate one, and that the Emperor had no valid right by Spanish law.

Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty at the Edinburgh University Press.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

1. P. 171, changed “1906” to “1506”. 2. P. 353, changed “1543” to “1643”. 3. P. 433, changed “amoreux” to “amoureux”. 4. P. 448, changed “1580” to “1680”. 5. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. 6. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. 7. Footnotes were re-indexed using numbers and collected together at the end of the last chapter. 8. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. 9. Superscripts are denoted by a caret before a single superscript character or a series of superscripted characters enclosed in curly braces, e.g. M^r. or M^{ister}.