CHAPTER VI

.

DON CARLOS.

His Education and Character.--Dangerous Illness.--Extravagant Behavior.--Opinions respecting him.--His Connection with the Flemings.--Project of Flight.--Insane Conduct.--Arrest.

1567, 1568.

We must now, after a long absence, return to the shores of Spain, where events were taking place of the highest importance to the future fortunes of the monarchy. At the time when the tragic incidents described in the preceding Book were passing in the Netherlands, others, not less tragic, if we may trust to popular rumor, were occurring in the very palace of the monarch. I allude to the death of Don Carlos, prince of Asturias, and that of Isabella of Valois, Philip's young and beautiful queen. The relations in which the two parties stood to each other, their untimely fate, and the mystery in which it was enveloped, have conspired with the sombre, unscrupulous character of Philip to suggest the most horrible suspicions of the cause of their death. The mystery which hung over them in their own time has not been dissipated by the researches of later chroniclers. For that very reason, it has proved an inexhaustible theme for fiction, until it might be thought to have passed from the domain of history into that of romance. It has been found especially suited to the purposes of the drama; and the dramatic literature of Europe contains more than one masterpiece from the hand of genius, which displays in sombre coloring the loves and the misfortunes of Carlos and Isabella.[1401]

[Sidenote: HIS EDUCATION AND CHARACTER.]

The time for discussing so dark and intricate a subject had not arrived while the Spanish archives were jealously locked up even from native scholars. But now that happily a more liberal system has prevailed, and access has been given to the dread repositories of the secrets of the Spanish sovereigns, the time seems to have come for investigating this mysterious story. And if I cannot boast that I have been able to dispel the doubts that have so long gathered around the subject, I may at least flatter myself that, with the materials at my command, I have the means of placing the reader in a better point of view than has yet been enjoyed, for surveying the whole ground, and forming his own conclusions.

Don Carlos was born on the eighth of July, 1545. His mother, Mary of Portugal, then only eighteen years of age, died a few days after giving birth to her ill-fated child. Thus deprived from the cradle of a mother's watchful care, he experienced almost as little of his father's; for, until Carlos was fourteen years old, Philip was absent most of the time, either in the Low Countries or in England. The care of the child was intrusted, during the greater part of this period, to Philip's sister, the Regent Joanna,--an excellent woman, but who, induced probably by the feeble constitution of Carlos, is said to have shown too much indulgence to the boy, being more solicitous to secure his bodily health than to form his character. In our easy faith in the miracles claimed for education, it sometimes happens that we charge on the parent, or the preceptor, the defects that may be more reasonably referred to the vicious constitution of the child.

As Carlos grew older, Philip committed the care of his instruction to Honorato Juan, a member of the emperor's household. He was a well-trained scholar, and a man of piety as well as learning; and soon after assuming the task of the prince's preceptor, he embraced the religious profession. The correspondence of Honorato Juan with Philip, then in Flanders, affords a view of the proficiency of Carlos when eleven or twelve years old. The contentment which the king evinces in the earlier letters diminishes as we advance; and anxious doubts are expressed, as he gathers the unwelcome information from his tutor of his pupil's indifference to his studies.[1402]

In the year 1556, Charles the Fifth stopped some time at Valladolid, on his way to his cloistered retreat at Yuste. He there saw his grandson, and took careful note of the boy, the heir to the vast dominions which he had himself so recently relinquished. He told over his campaigns to Carlos, and how he had fled at Innsbruck, where he barely escaped falling into the hands of the enemy. Carlos, who listened eagerly, interrupted his grandfather, exclaiming, "I never would have fled!" Charles endeavored to explain the necessity of the case; but the boy sturdily maintained, that he never would have fled,--amusing and indeed delighting the emperor, who saw in this the mettle of his own earlier days.[1403] Yet Charles was not blind to the defects of his grandson,--to the wayward, overbearing temper, which inferred too much indulgence on the part of his daughter the regent. He reprehended Carlos for his want of deference to his aunt; and he plainly told the latter, that, if she would administer more wholesome correction to the boy, the nation would have reason to thank her for it.[1404]

After the emperor had withdrawn to his retreat, his mind, which kept its hold, as we have seen, on all matters of public interest beyond the walls of the monastery, still reverted to his grandson, the heir of his name and of his sceptre. At Simancas the correspondence is still preserved which he carried on with Don Garcia de Toledo, a brother of the duke of Alva, who held the post of _ayo_, or governor of the prince. In one of that functionary's letters, written in 1557, when Carlos was twelve years old, we have a brief chronicle of the distribution of the prince's time, somewhat curious, as showing the outlines of a royal education in that day.

Before seven in the morning Carlos rose, and by half-past eight had breakfasted, and attended mass. He then went to his studies, where he continued till the hour of dinner. What his studies were we are not told. One writer of the time says, among other things, he read Cicero's Offices, in order the better to learn to control his passions.[1405] At eleven he dined. He then amused himself with his companions, by playing at quoits, or at _trucos_, a kind of billiards, or in fencing, and occasionally riding. At half-past three came a light repast, the _merienda_; after which he listened to reading, or, if the weather was fine, strolled in the fields. In the evening he supped; and at half-past nine, having gone through the prayers of his rosary, he went to bed, where, as his _ayo_ says, he usually made but one nap of it till the morning.--It was certainly a primitive way of life, in which more regard seems to have been had to the cravings of the body than of the mind, and as regular in its routine as the monastic life of his grandfather at Yuste. Yet Don Garcia does not fail to intimate his discontent with the want of interest shown by his pupil, not merely in his studies, but in fencing, cane-playing, and other manly exercises, so essential to the education of a cavalier of that day.[1406] He notices, at the same time, the first symptoms of those bilious attacks which already menaced the prince's constitution, and so effectually undermined it in later years.[1407]

In another epistle, Don Garcia suggests that it might be well for the emperor to allow Carlos to visit him at Yuste, trusting that his grandfather's authority would accomplish what his own had failed to do.[1408] But this suggestion found no favor, apparently, with the royal recluse, who probably was not disposed to do penance himself by receiving so troublesome an inmate in his family. The emperor's own death, which occurred shortly after this, spared him the misery of witnessing the disastrous career of his grandson.

[Sidenote: HIS EDUCATION AND CHARACTER.]

The reports of the Venetian ministers--those precious documents that contain so much instruction in respect to matters both of public and domestic interest--make occasional allusions to the prince, at this period. Their notices are by no means flattering. They describe Carlos as of a reckless, impatient temper, fierce, and even cruel, in his disposition,[1409] and so arrogant as to be unwilling to stand with his head uncovered, for any long time, in the presence of the emperor or his father.[1410] Yet this harsh picture is somewhat redeemed by other traits; for he was generous, though to a degree of prodigality,--giving away his trinkets and jewels, even his clothes, in default of money. He had a fearless heart, with a strong passion for a military life. He was far from frivolous in his tastes, despising buffoons, and saying himself so many good things that his tutor carefully made a collection of them.[1411] This portrait of a youth scarcely fourteen years old seems as highly overcharged, whether for good or for evil, as portraits of princes usually are.

Yet the state of the prince's health may be fairly mentioned in extenuation of his defects,--at least of his infirmity of temper. For his bilious temperament already began to show itself in the form of intermittent fever, with which he continued to be afflicted for the remainder of his life. Under this depressing disorder, his spirits sank, his body wasted away, and his strength failed to such a degree, that it was feared he might not reach the age of manhood.[1412]

In the beginning of 1560, Isabella of France came to Castile, and on the second of February was united to Philip. By the preliminaries of the treaty of Cateau-Cambresis, her hand had been assigned to Don Carlos; but Mary Tudor having died before the ratification of the treaty, the name of the father was substituted for that of the son, and the royal maiden was affianced to Philip.

The marriage ceremony was performed with great splendor, at Toledo. Carlos was present; and, as he gazed on the beautiful bride, it is not improbable that some feelings of resentment may have mingled with regret, when he thought of the unceremonious manner in which her hand had been transferred from him to his father. But we should be slow to believe that Isabella could have felt anything like the tender sentiment that romantic historians have attributed to her, for a boy of fourteen, who had so few personal attractions to recommend him.

On the twenty-second of the same month, Carlos was formally recognized by the cortes of Castile as heir to the crown. On this occasion, the different members of the royal family were present, together with the great nobles and the representatives of the commons. The prince rode in the procession on a white horse, superbly caparisoned while his dress, resplendent with jewels, formed a sad contrast to the sallow and sickly countenance of its wearer.[1413] He performed his part of the ceremony with dignity and feeling. When Joanna, his aunt, and his uncle, Don John of Austria, after taking the oath, would have knelt, according to custom, to kiss his hand, he would not allow it, but affectionately raised and embraced them. But when the duke of Alva inadvertently omitted the latter act of obeisance, the prince received him so coldly, that the haughty nobleman, rebuked by his manner, perceived his error, and humbly acknowledged it.[1414]

In the autumn of the following year, with the hope of mending his health by change of air, Carlos removed to Alcalá de Henares, famous for its university founded by the great Ximenes. He had for his companions two youths, both destined to a conspicuous part in the history of the times. One was Philip's illegitimate brother, Don John of Austria, the hero of Lepanto; the other was the prince's cousin, Alexander Farnese, son of Margaret of Parma, who was now in the course of training which was one day to make him the greatest captain of his time. The three boys were nearly of the same age; but in their accomplishments and personal appearance the uncle and the cousin afforded as strong a contrast to their royal kinsman, as in the brilliant fortunes that awaited them.[1415]

Carlos had not been at Alcalá many months, before he met with an accident, which was attended with most disastrous consequences. One evening in April, 1562, as he was descending a flight of stairs, he made a misstep, and fell headlong down five or six stairs against a door at the bottom of the passage. He was taken up senseless, and removed to his chamber, where his physicians were instantly summoned, and the necessary remedies applied.[1416] At first it seemed only a simple contusion on the head, and the applications of the doctors had the desired effect. But soon the symptoms became more alarming. Fever set in. He was attacked by erysipelas; his head swelled to an enormous size; he became totally blind; and this was followed by delirium. It now appeared that the skull was fractured. The royal physicians were called in; and after a stormy consultation, in which the doctors differed, as usual, as to the remedies to be applied, it was determined to trepan the patient. The operation was carefully performed; a part of the bone of the skull was removed; but relief was not obtained.[1417]

[Sidenote: DANGEROUS ILLNESS AND RECOVERY.]

Meanwhile the greatest alarm spread through the country, at the prospect of losing the heir apparent. Processions were everywhere made to the churches, prayers were put up, pilgrimages were vowed, and the discipline was unsparingly administered by the fanatical multitude, who hoped by selfinflicted penance to avert the wrath of Heaven from the land. Yet all did not avail.

We have a report of the case from the pen of Dr. Olivares, the prince's own physician. Some of the remedies were of a kind that would look strangely enough if reported by a medical journal of our own day. After all efforts of professional skill had failed, and the unguent of a Moorish doctor, famous among the people, had been rubbed on the body without success, it was resolved to make a direct appeal to Heaven. In the monastery of Jesus Maria lay the bones of a holy Franciscan, Fray Diego, who had died a hundred years before, in the reign of Henry the Fourth, in the odor of sanctity. King Philip and his court went in solemn procession to the church; and in their presence, the mouldering remains of the good father, still sweet to the nostrils, as we are told, were taken from their iron coffin, and transported to the prince's apartment. They were there laid on his bed; and the cloth that wrapped the skull of the dead man was placed on the forehead of Carlos.[1418] Fortunately the delirious state of the patient prevented the shock that might otherwise have been given to his senses. That very night the friar appeared to Carlos in his sleep. He was muffled in his Franciscan robe, with a green girdle about his waist, and a cross of reeds in his hand; and he mildly bade him "be of good cheer, for that he would certainly recover." From this time, as the physician who reports the case admits, the patient began speedily to mend. The fever subsided, his head returned to its natural dimensions, his eyes were restored to sight. At the end of something less than two months from the date of the accident, Carlos, who had shown a marvellous docility throughout his illness,[1419] was enabled to walk into the adjoining apartment, and embrace his father, who, during the critical period of his son's illness, had established his residence at Alcalá, showing the solicitude natural to a parent in such an extremity.

The merit of the cure was of course referred to Fray Diego.[1420] An account of the miracle, duly authenticated, was transmitted to Rome; and the holy man, on the application of Philip, received the honors of canonization from the pontiff. The claims of the new saint to the credit of achieving the cure were confidently asserted by the Castilian chroniclers of that and succeeding ages; nor have I met with any one hardy enough to contest them, unless it be Dr. Olivares himself, who, naturally jealous of his professional honor, intimated his conviction,--this was before the canonization,--that with some allowance for the good wrought by Fray Diego's intercession and the prayers of the righteous, the recovery of the prince was mainly to be referred to the skill of his physicians.[1421]

But the recovery of Carlos does not seem to have been so complete as was at first thought. There is good reason to suppose that the blow on his head did some permanent injury to the brain. At least this may be inferred from the absurd eccentricities of his subsequent conduct, and the reckless manner in which he abandoned himself to the gratification of his passions. In 1565, on his recovery from one of those attacks of quartan-fever which still beset him, Philip remarked, with a sigh, to the French minister, St. Sulpice, "that he hoped his repeated warnings might restrain the prince, for the future, from making such fatal inroads on his health."[1422] But the unfortunate young man profited as little by such warnings as by his own experience. Persons about the court at this period have left us many stories of his mad humors, which formed the current scandal at Madrid. Brantôme, who was there in 1564, says that Carlos would patrol the streets with a number of young nobles, of the same lawless habits with himself, assaulting the passengers with drawn swords, kissing the women, and insulting even ladies of the highest rank with the most opprobrious epithets.[1423]

It was the fashion for the young gallants of the court to wear very large boots. Carlos had his made even larger than usual, to accommodate a pair of small pistols. Philip, in order to prevent the mischievous practice, ordered his son's boots to be made of smaller dimensions. But when the bootmaker brought them to the palace, Carlos, in a rage, gave him a beating; and then, ordering the leather to be cut in pieces and stewed, he forced the unlucky mechanic to swallow this unsavory fricassee--as much as he could get down of it--on the spot.[1424]

On one occasion, he made a violent assault on his governor, Don Garcia de Toledo, for some slight cause of offence. On another, he would have thrown his chamberlain, Don Alonzo de Cordova, out of the window. These noblemen complained to Philip, and besought him to release them from a service where they were exposed to affronts which they could not resent. The king consented, transferring them to his own service, and appointed Ruy Gomez de Silva, prince of Eboli, his favorite minister, the governor of Carlos.[1425]

[Sidenote: HIS DISPOSITION.]

But the prince was no respecter of persons. Cardinal Espinosa, president of the Council of Castile, and afterwards grand-inquisitor, banished a player named Cisneros from the palace, where he was to have performed that night for the prince's diversion. It was probably by Philip's orders. But however that may be, Carlos, meeting the cardinal, seized him roughly by the collar, and, laying his hand on his poniard, exclaimed, "You scurvy priest, do you dare to prevent Cisneros from playing before me? By the life of my father, I will kill you!"[1426] The trembling prelate, throwing himself on his knees, was too happy to escape with his life from the hands of the infuriated prince. Whether the latter had his way in the end, in regard to the comedian, is not stated. But the stuff of which a grand-inquisitor is made is not apt to be of the yielding sort.

A more whimsical anecdote is told us by Nobili, the Tuscan ambassador, then resident at the court. Carlos, having need of money, requested a merchant, named Grimaldo, to advance him the sum of fifteen hundred ducats. The money-lender readily consented, thanking the prince for the favor done him, and adding, in the usual grandiloquent vein of the Castilian, that "all he had was at his disposal."[1427] Carlos took him at his word, and forthwith demanded a hundred thousand ducats. In vain poor Grimaldo, astounded by the request, protested that "it would ruin his credit; that what he had said was only words of compliment." Carlos replied, "he had no right to bandy compliments with princes; and if he did not in four and twenty hours pay the money to the last _real_, he and his family would have cause to rue it." It was not till after much negotiation that Ruy Gomez succeeded in prevailing on the prince to be content with the more modest sum of sixty thousand ducats, which was accordingly furnished by the unfortunate merchant.[1428] The money thus gained, according to Nobili, was squandered as suddenly as it was got.

There are happily some touches of light to relieve the shadows with which the portrait is charged. Tiepolo, who was ambassador from Venice at the court of Madrid in 1567, when Carlos was twenty-two years old, gives us some account of the prince. He admits his arrogant and fiery temper, but commends his love of truth, and, what we should hardly have expected, the earnestness with which he engaged in his devotions. He was exceedingly charitable, asking, "Who would give, if princes did not?"[1429] He was splendid in his way of living, making the most liberal recompense, not only to his own servants, but to the king's, who were greatly attached to him.[1430] He was ambitious of taking part in the conduct of public affairs, and was sorely discontented when excluded from them--as seems to have been usually the case--by his father.[1431]

It was certainly to the prince's credit, that he was able to inspire those who approached him most nearly with strong feelings of personal attachment. Among these were his aunt Joanna, the regent, and the queen, Isabella, who, regarding him with an interest justified by the connection, was desirous of seeing him married to her own sister. His aunt Mary and her husband, the Emperor Maximilian, also held Carlos, whom they had known in early days, in the kindest remembrance, and wished to secure his hand for their eldest daughter. A still more honorable testimony is borne by the relations in which he stood to his preceptor, Honorato Juan, who, at the prince's solicitation, had been raised to the bishopric of Osma. Carlos would willingly have kept this good man near his own person. But he was detained in his diocese; and the letters from time to time addressed to him by his former pupil, whatever may be thought of them as pieces of composition, do honor to the prince's heart. "My best friend in this life," he affectionately writes at the close of them, "I will do all that you desire."[1432] Unfortunately, this good friend and counsellor died in 1566. By his will, he requested Carlos to select for himself any article among his effects that he preferred. He even gave him authority to change the terms of the instrument, and make any other disposition of his property that he thought right![1433] It was a singular proof of confidence in the testator, unless we are to receive it merely as a Spanish compliment,--somewhat perilous, as the case of Grimaldo proves, with a person who interpreted compliments as literally as Carlos.

From all this, there would seem to have been the germs of generous qualities in the prince's nature, which, under a happier culture, might have been turned to some account. But he was placed in that lofty station which exposed him to the influence of parasites, who flattered his pride, and corrupted his heart, by ministering to his pleasures. From the eminence which he occupied, even the smallest errors and eccentricities became visible to the world, and the objects of unsparing criticism. Somewhat resembling his father in person, he was different from him both in his good qualities and his defects, so that a complete barrier was raised between them. Neither party could comprehend the other; and the father was thus destitute of the means which he might else have had of exerting an influence over the son. The prince's dissipated way of life, his perpetual lapses from decorum, or, to speak more properly, his reckless defiance of decency, outraged his father, so punctilious in his own observance of the outward decencies of life. He may well have dwelt on such excesses of Carlos with pain; but it may be doubted if the prince's more honorable desire to mingle in public affairs was to the taste of Philip, who was too tenacious of power willingly to delegate it, beyond what was absolutely necessary, to his own ministers. The conduct of his son, unhappily, furnished him with a plausible ground for distrusting his capacity for business.

[Sidenote: HIS CONNECTION WITH THE FLEMINGS.]

Thus distrusted, if not held in positive aversion, by his father; excluded from any share in the business of the state, as well as from a military life, which would seem to have been well suited to his disposition; surrounded by Philip's ministers, whom Carlos, with too much reason, regarded as spies on his actions,--the unhappy young man gave himself up to a reckless course of life, equally ruinous to his constitution and to his character; until the people, who had hailed with delight the prospect of a native-born prince, now felt a reasonable apprehension as to his capacity for government.[1434]

But while thus an object of distrust at home, abroad more than one sovereign coveted an alliance with the heir of the Spanish monarchy. Catharine de Medicis would gladly have secured his hand for a younger sister of Isabella, in which project she was entirely favored by the queen. This was in 1565; but Philip, in his usual procrastinating spirit, only replied, "They must reflect upon it."[1435] He looked with a more favorable eye on the proposals warmly pressed by the emperor and empress of Germany, who, as we have seen, still cherished a kindly remembrance of Carlos, and wished his union with their daughter Anne. That princess, who was a year younger than her cousin, claimed Spain as her native land, having been born there during the regency of Maximilian. But although the parties were of suitable age, and Philip acquiesced in the proposals for their marriage, his want of confidence in his son, if we may credit the historians, still moved him to defer the celebration of it.[1436] Anne did indeed live to mount the throne of Castile, but as the wife, not of Carlos, but of Philip, after the death of Isabella. Thus, by a singular fatality, the two princesses who had been destined for the son were each of them married to the father.

The revolutionary movement in the Netherlands was at this time the great subject that engaged the attention of the Spaniards; and Carlos is reported to have taken a lively interest in it. According to Antonio Perez, the Flemings then at the court made positive overtures to the prince to head the revolt.[1437] Strada speaks of Bergen and Montigny, then at Madrid, as the channel of communication through which Carlos engaged to settle the affairs of that distracted country.[1438] That a person of his ardent temper should have felt sympathy with a people thus bravely struggling for its liberties, is not improbable; nor would one with whom "to think and to speak was the same thing,"[1439] be at all unlikely to express himself on the subject with much more freedom than discretion. And it may have been in allusion to this that his almoner, Suarez, in a letter without date, implores the prince "to abandon his dangerous designs, the illusion of the Evil One, which cannot fail to bring mischief to himself and disquiet to the monarchy!"[1440] The letter concludes with a homily, in which the good doctor impresses on the prince the necessity of filial obedience, by numerous examples, from sacred and profane story, of the sad end of those who had impiously rejected the counsels of their parents.[1441]

But although it is true that this hypothesis would explain much that is enigmatical in the subsequent history of Carlos, I must confess I have met with no confirmation of it in the correspondence of those who had the direction of affairs in the Low Countries, nor in the charges alleged against Montigny himself,--where an attempt to suborn the heir-apparent, one might suppose, would have been paraded as the most heinous offence. Still, that Carlos regarded himself as the proper person to be intrusted with the mission to the Netherlands is evident from his treatment of Alva, when that nobleman was appointed to the command of the army.

On that occasion, as the duke came to pay his respects to him previous to his departure, the prince fiercely said, "You are not to go to Flanders; I will go there myself." Alva endeavored to pacify him, saying that it was too dangerous a mission for the heir to the throne; that he was going to quiet the troubles of the country, and prepare it for the coming of the king, when the prince could accompany his father, if his presence could be spared in Castile. But this explanation served only to irritate Carlos the more; and, drawing his dagger, he turned suddenly on the duke, exclaiming, "You shall not go; if you do, I will kill you." A struggle ensued,--an awkward one for Alva, as to have injured the heir-apparent might have been construed into treason. Fortunately, being much the stronger of the two, he grappled with Carlos, and held him tight, while the latter exhausted his strength in ineffectual struggles to escape. But no sooner was the prince released, than he turned again, with the fury of a madman, on the duke, who again closed with him, when the noise of the fray brought in one of the chamberlains from an adjoining room; and Carlos, extricating himself from the iron grasp of his adversary, withdrew to his own apartment.[1442]

Such an outrage on the person of his minister was regarded by Philip as an indignity to himself. It widened the breach, already too wide, between father and son; and so great was this estrangement, that, when living in the same palace, they seem to have had no communication with each other.[1443] Much of Philip's time, however, at this period, was passed at the Escorial, where he was watching over the progress of the magnificent pile which was to commemorate the victory of St. Quentin. But, while in his retreat, the ministers placed about his son furnished the king with faithful reports of his proceedings.

[Sidenote: PROJECT OF FLIGHT.]

Such was the deplorable state of things, when Carlos came to the fatal determination to escape from the annoyances of his present position by flying to some foreign land. To what country is not certainly known; some say to the Netherlands, others to Germany. The latter, on the whole, seems the most probable; as in the court of Vienna he would meet with his promised bride, and friends who would be sure to welcome him.

As he was destitute of funds for such a journey, he proposed to raise them through a confidential agent, one of his own household, by obtaining loans from different cities. Such a reckless mode of proceeding, which seemed at once to proclaim his purpose, intimated too plainly the heedlessness of his character, and his utter ignorance of affairs.

But while these negotiations were in progress, a circumstance occurred, exhibiting the conduct of Carlos in such a light that it may claim the shelter of insanity. The story is told by one of the prince's household, an _ayuda de camara_, or gentleman of the chamber, who was present at the scene, which he describes with much simplicity.

For some days his master, he tells us, had no rest, frequently repeating, that "he desired to kill a man with whom he had a quarrel!"[1444] The same thing he said--without, however, intimating who the man was--to his uncle, Don John of Austria, in whom he seems to have placed unbounded confidence. This was near Christmas, in 1567. It was customary on the twenty-eighth of December, the day of the Innocents, for the members of the royal family to appear together, and take the sacrament in public. Carlos, in order to prepare for this, on the preceding evening went to the church of St. Jerome, to confess and receive absolution. But the confessor, when he heard the strange avowal of his murderous appetite, refused to grant absolution. Carlos applied to another ecclesiastic, but with as little success. In vain he endeavored to argue the case. They recommended him to send for more learned divines, and take their opinion. He did so forthwith; and no less than fourteen monks from the convent of Our Lady of Atocha, and two from another quarter, were brought together to settle this strange point of casuistry. Greatly shocked, they were unanimous in their opinion, that, under the circumstances, absolution could not be granted. Carlos next inquired whether he might not be allowed to receive an unconsecrated wafer, which would obviate the scandal that his omitting to take the sacrament would infallibly occasion in the court. The reverend body were thrown into fresh consternation by this proposal. The prior of Atocha, who was among the number, wishing to draw from Carlos the name of his enemy, told him that this intelligence might possibly have some influence on the judgment of the divines. The prince replied, that "his father was the person, and that he wished to have his life!"[1445] The prior calmly inquired, if any one was to aid him in the designs against his father. But Carlos only repeated his former declaration; and two hours after midnight the conclave broke up in unspeakable dismay. A messenger was despatched to the Escorial, where the king then was, to acquaint him with the whole affair.[1446]

Such is the report of the _ayuda de camara_, who says he was in attendance on the prince that night. The authority is better for some parts of the story than for others. There is nothing very improbable in the supposition that Carlos--whose thoughts, as we have seen, lay very near the surface--should have talked, in the wild way reported of him, to his attendants. But that he should have repeated to others what had been drawn from him so cunningly by the prior, or that this appalling secret should have been whispered within earshot of the attendants, is difficult to believe. It matters little, however, since, whichever way we take the story, it savors so much of downright madness in the prince as in a manner to relieve him from moral responsibility.

By the middle of January, 1568, the prince's agent had returned, bringing with him a hundred and fifty thousand ducats. It was not more than a fourth of the amount he had demanded. But it answered for the present, and the remainder he proposed to have sent after him in bills of exchange.[1447] Having completed his preparations, he communicated his intentions to his uncle, Don John, and besought him to accompany him in his flight. But the latter, after fruitlessly expostulating with his kinsman on the folly of his proceeding, left Madrid for the Escorial, where he doubtless reported the affair to the king, his brother.

On the seventeenth, Carlos sent an order to Don Ramon de Tassis, the director-general of the posts, to have eight horses in readiness for him, that evening. Tassis, suspecting all was not right, returned an answer that the horses were out. On the prince repeating his orders in a more peremptory manner, the postmaster sent all the horses out, and proceeded himself in all haste to the Escorial.[1448]

[Sidenote: HIS ARREST.]

The king was not long in taking his measures. Some days previous, "this very religious prince," says the papal nuncio, "according to his wont, had caused prayers to be put up, in the different monasteries, for the guidance of Heaven in an affair of great moment."[1449] Such prayers might have served as a warning to Carlos. But it was too late for warnings. Philip now proceeded, without loss of time, to Madrid, where those who beheld him in the audience-chamber, on the morning of the eighteenth, saw no sign of the coming storm in the serenity of his countenance.[1450] That morning, he attended mass in public, with the members of the royal family. After the services, Don John visited Carlos in his apartment, when the prince, shutting the doors, demanded of his uncle the subject of his conversation with the king at the Escorial. Don John evaded the questions as well as he could, till Carlos, heated by his suspicions, drew his sword, and attacked his uncle, who, retreating, with his back to the door, called loudly on the prince to desist, and threw himself into a posture of defence. The noise made by the skirmish fortunately drew the notice of the attendants, who, rushing in, enabled Don John to retreat, and Carlos withdrew in sullen silence to his chamber.[1451]

The prince, it seems, had for some time felt himself insecure in his father's palace. He slept with as many precautions as a highwayman, with his sword and dagger by his side, and a loaded musket within reach, ready at any moment for action.[1452] For further security, he had caused an ingenious artisan to construct a bolt, in such a way that by means of pulleys he could fasten or unfasten the door of his chamber while in bed. With such precautions, it would be a perilous thing to invade the slumbers of a desperate man like Carlos. But Philip was aware of the difficulties; and he ordered the mechanic to derange the machinery so that it should not work: and thus the door was left without the usual means for securing it.[1453] The rest is told by the _ayuda de camara_ above mentioned, who was on duty that night, and supped in the palace.

It was about eleven o'clock, on the evening of the eighteenth, when he observed the king coming down stairs, wearing armor over his clothes, and his head protected by a helmet. He was accompanied by the duke of Feria, captain of the guard, with four or five other lords, and twelve privates of the guard. The king ordered the valet to shut the door, and allow no one to enter. The nobles and the guard then passed into the prince's chamber; and the duke of Feria, stealing softly to the head of the bed, secured a sword and dagger which lay there, as well as a musket loaded with two balls. Carlos, roused by the noise, started up, and demanded who was there. The duke, having got possession of the weapons, replied, "It is the council of state." Carlos, on hearing this, leaped from his bed, and, uttering loud cries and menaces, endeavored to seize his arms. At this moment, Philip, who had prudently deferred his entrance till the weapons were mastered, came forward, and bade his son return to bed and remain quiet. The prince exclaimed, "What does your majesty want of me?" "You will soon learn," said his father, and at the same time ordered the windows and doors to be strongly secured, and the keys of the latter to be delivered to him. All the furniture of the room, with which Carlos could commit any violence, even the andirons, were removed.[1454] The king, then turning to Feria, told him that "he committed the prince to his especial charge, and that he must guard him well." Addressing next the other nobles, he directed them "to serve the prince with all proper respect, but to execute none of his orders without first reporting them to himself; finally, to guard him faithfully, under penalty of being held as traitors."

At these words Carlos exclaimed, "Your majesty had better kill me than keep me a prisoner. It will be a great scandal to the kingdom. If you do not kill me, I will make away with myself." "You will do no such thing," said the king; "for that would be the act of a madman." "Your majesty," replied Carlos, "treats me so ill that you force me to this extremity. I am not mad, but you drive me to despair!"[1455] Other words passed between the monarch and his son, whose voice was so broken with sobs as to be scarcely audible.[1456]

Having completed his arrangements, Philip, after securing a coffer which contained the prince's papers, withdrew from the apartment. That night, the duke of Feria, the count of Lerma, and Don Rodrigo de Mendoza, eldest son of Ruy Gomez, remained in the prince's chamber. Two lords, out of six named for the purpose, performed the same duty in rotation each succeeding night. From respect to the prince, none of them were allowed to wear their swords in his presence. His meat was cut up before it was brought into his chamber, as he was allowed no knife at his meals. The prince's attendants were all dismissed, and most of them afterwards provided for in the service of the king. A guard of twelve halberdiers were stationed in the passages leading to the tower in which the apartment of Carlos was situated. Thus all communication from without was cut off; and, as he was unable to look from his strongly barricaded windows, the unhappy prisoner from that time remained as dead to the world as if he had been buried in the deepest dungeon of Simancas.

The following day, the king called the members of his different councils together, and informed them of the arrest of his son, declaring that nothing but his duty to God, and the welfare of the monarchy, could have moved him to such an act. The tears, according to one present, filled his eyes, as he made this avowal.[1457]

He then summoned his council of state, and commenced a process against the prisoner. His affliction did not prevent him from being present all the while, and listening to the testimony, which, when reduced to writing, formed a heap of paper half a foot in thickness.--Such is the account given of this extraordinary proceeding by the _ayuda de camara_.[1458]

[Sidenote: CAUSES OF HIS IMPRISONMENT.]

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