Philip II. of Spain 6

Philip II. of Spain 6

But tongues began to wag in London, and by September 6, Noailles, the French

ambassador, knew what was in the wind. Henceforth it was a duel to the

death between him and Renard. The emperor was still at war with France,

burning to avenge the disaster of Metz; and if this marriage were

effected it would be revenge indeed. From the French embassy accordingly

flowed money in plenty to subsidise disaffection, hints that those who

held Church property would be forced to disgorge it, and panic-striking

rumours of what would happen if Spain got the upper hand in England. The

hatred and prejudice aroused against Philip by Noailles for purely

political reasons in 1553 have left an abundant crop of prejudice, even

to our own times. Philip was a politician and a patriot before all

things. However distasteful to him the marriage may have been, his own

personal pleasure was never his aim, and he saw the increment of

strength which the union with England would bring to his father’s cause

and his own; so, like a dutiful son, he wrote, “I have no other will

than that of your Majesty, and whatever you desire, that I will do.” On

receipt of this news Renard opened the attack, and pressed Philip’s

suit. Mary was coy and doubtful at first, mainly, it would seem, on

personal grounds, but Renard’s persuasions prevailed even over the

powerful Gardiner, and the Queen of England formally accepted the hand

of the Spanish prince when Egmont came with his splendid embassy to

offer it in January 1554. London was in a perfect whirlwind of panic,

thanks mainly to Noailles, and the gallant Egmont himself and his

followers were attacked in the streets by London prentices. Carews,

Wyatts, and Greys struggled, rebelled, and fell, but the queen knew her

own mind now, and in her sight the Spanish marriage meant the

resurrection of her country and the salvation of her people. Philip and

his father doubtless thought so too, in a general way; but that was not

their first object. What they wanted was to humble France for good and

for all, and make Spain henceforward the dictatress of Europe. It was a

disappointment to Philip when, at Valladolid in the early spring, he

learnt the conditions by which he was to be bound for life. They were

very hard, for Mary’s council were determined that the marriage should

not mean the political subjugation of England by Spain, and all Renard’s

cunning and the emperor’s bribes failed to move them.

 

Philip was a gallant suitor withal, and determined to do the thing

handsomely if it were to be done at all. First he sent a special envoy,

the Marquis de las Navas, to England, sumptuously attended, with “a

great table diamond mounted as a rose in a superb gold setting, valued

at 50,000 ducats; a necklace of eighteen brilliants, worth 32,000

ducats; a great diamond with a fine pearl pendant from it, worth 25,000

ducats; and other jewels, pearls, diamonds, emeralds, and rubies of

inestimable value for the queen and her ladies.” Never before had so

much magnificence been witnessed in Spain as in the preparations for

Philip’s voyage to England. He left Valladolid on May 14, with nearly

1000 horsemen and half the nobility of Spain, all glittering and

flashing with splendour. Puling little Carlos, with his big head and

frail limbs, was by his side for a day on the way to Corunna, and when

Philip left him he was to see him no more as a child. Passionate

devotion and loyalty followed Philip on his progress through

North-western Spain. He was a true national monarch, and his people knew

it. Charles had always been a Fleming before all things, and his

wide-spreading dominions had kept him mostly away from Spain; but the

Spaniards knew well that, no matter what other nations fell under his

sway, Philip would remain a true Spaniard to the end, and rule them all

from the country he loved. It has been said that Philip was naturally

grave and unexpansive, and in his previous voyage in Germany and

Flanders his demeanour had made him extremely unpopular. Charles,

indeed, had to remonstrate with him, when it was already too late, for

his want of geniality. The emperor was determined that his son should

not again fall into a similar error for want of timely warning, and sent

him--as also did Renard--urgent exhortations to bear himself affably,

and to conciliate the stubborn English by respecting all their

prejudices and adopting their customs. It was against his very nature,

but he had schooled himself to self-control and sacrifice, and his most

intimate friends were astonished at the change in his manner from the

day he set foot on English soil at Southampton on July 20, 1554. He was

no longer the grave and moody prince they had known, but smiling,

courteous, and frank. Gifts and favours were lavished on all sides, and

although he came heavily handicapped by the prejudice against him, and

London especially bitterly hated the Spaniards, and did not hesitate to

show it, Philip himself became personally not unpopular during his stay

in England. He brought with him in his fine fleet of 100 sail 6000 or

8000 soldiers to reinforce the emperor in his war with the French, and

not a man of them was allowed to land in England; they and many of

Philip’s courtiers proceeding to Flanders as soon as might be. The

nobles and gentlemen who accompanied the prince were warned that they

must in all respects make way for the English and take a secondary

place. This was gall and wormwood to them, and their scorn and hatred

grew as they became convinced of the fruitlessness of their sacrifice

and that of their master.

 

The queen’s first interview with her husband was at night on July 23 in

the bishop’s palace at Winchester. He was dressed in a suit of white kid

covered with gold embroidery, and wore a French grey satin surcoat, “and

very gallant he looked.” He was surrounded by ten of the highest nobles

in Spain, and from the first moment the queen saw him she seems to have

fallen in love with him. She had fervently invoked divine guidance in

her choice, and had managed to work herself into a condition of

religious exaltation, which rendered her peculiarly open to hysterical

influences--for she too was a granddaughter of Isabel the Catholic. All

that pomp and expenditure could do to render the marriage ceremony at

Winchester for ever memorable was done. Philip himself and his friends

had no illusions about the matter. They all confess with depressing

unanimity that the bride was a faded little woman with red hair, and no

eyebrows, and that the Spanish objects in the marriage were purely

political. But Mary looked upon it in quite a different light. She was

taking part in a holy sacrament which was to bring salvation to

thousands of souls, and make her for ever memorable as the saviour of

her country and her race. Philip acted like a gentleman, under very

difficult circumstances. He treated his wife with gentle courtesy,

returning her somewhat embarrassingly frequent endearments with apparent

alacrity, and never by word or deed hinting that her charms were on the

wane. On the day of the marriage Charles had equalised his son’s rank

with that of Mary by making him King of Naples, but still English

suspicion and jealousy resented the idea of his coronation, or even his

aspiring to equal place with the queen. “He had only come,” said the

Londoners, “to beget an heir to the crown, and then he might go--the

sooner the better.” So by the time when the king and queen entered the

city in state on August 27 it was clear that, come what might, Philip

would never be allowed to govern England. “The real rulers of this

country,” wrote one of Philip’s courtiers, “are not the monarchs, but

the council,” and the councillors, though ready enough to accept Spanish

gold, were Englishmen above all things, and would never submit to

Spanish government. The hard terms of the marriage contract had been

accepted by Charles and Philip in the belief that they could be

nullified after the marriage by the influence of the husband over the

wife. It was now seen that however great this influence might be, the

queen herself was almost powerless in the hands of the council and the

nobles who had raised her to the throne.

 

Philip whilst in England showed his usual diplomacy. He carefully

abstained from publicly interfering in the government, but he had not

failed to draw to his side some of the principal members of the council,

and his influence certainly made itself felt, if it was unseen. His

efforts were at first entirely directed to the conversion of England to

the faith by preaching and persuasion, the subsequent object, of course,

being the complete return of the country to the papal fold, which would

be but a stepping-stone to the political domination by Spain. But

Charles and Philip were statesmen first, and religious zealots

afterwards. On this occasion, as on several subsequent ones in Philip’s

career, the zeal of the churchmen outran the discretion of the

politicians, and the king-consort’s influence, such as it was, had to be

exercised mainly in the direction of moderation and temporisation.

 

Immediately after Mary’s accession the pope had appointed Cardinal Pole

to negotiate for the submission of England to the Holy See, and the

cardinal was eager to set his hand to the work at once. He was an

Englishman of royal blood, a firm Catholic, who had no other end in view

than to bring back his country to what he considered the true faith.

Mary at first was just as eager as Pole, but Charles saw from afar that,

if affairs were to be directed into the course he wished, they must be

managed gently. The new pope, Julius III., was a docile and vicious

pontiff, and was soon brought round to the emperor’s views. He was

induced to alter Pole’s appointment to that of legate, with instructions

first to go to Brussels and endeavour to mediate in the pope’s name

between the emperor and the King of France, and then await a favourable

opportunity for proceeding to England.

 

The great difficulty in the English question was the restitution of the

property taken from the Church during the previous reigns. It was

evident to the emperor that, if an uncompromising stand were taken up on

that point, the whole edifice would collapse. Pole was all for complete

and unconditional restitution, and his powers, indeed, gave him little

or no discretion to compromise or abandon the claim of the Church. The

first point therefore agreed upon by Charles and Philip was to delay

Pole’s voyage to England until the pope had been induced to confer large

discretionary powers on Pole, and the latter had been made to promise

that he would do nothing except in accord with Philip. When this had

been effected, and Renard, at Philip’s instance, had seen Pole and

obtained a promise that he would not insist upon restitution of the

property that had passed into private hands, he was allowed to proceed

to England. Forty years afterwards, one of Philip’s English adherents,

Father Persons, told him that all the ill-fortune that had attended his

efforts in England was due to the impious omission at this juncture of

insisting upon some sort of restitution of the ecclesiastical property

in private hands.

 

In November 1554 England returned to the bosom of the Church, and Pole

to this extent was satisfied; but he was no politician, and could never

be brought round to the purely Spanish view of English politics, which

may be said indeed of most of Mary’s advisers.

 

On the very day of Pole’s arrival it was officially announced that the

queen was with child, and the new legate and the rest of the churchmen

fell into what would now be looked upon as blasphemous comparisons, the

people at large being suddenly caught up by the wave of rejoicing at the

promise of an heir to the throne. The opportunity was discreetly taken

by Philip to cause his instruments to propose in Parliament the sending

by England of armed aid to the emperor against France, and the