The next morning the humble parish church of St. Sebastian was transformed, by the "richest hangings and adornments necessary for the greatest wedding that ever was seen in the world, whilst their Majesties and the Court were a blaze of magnificence." Advancing with his daughter, Philip took his seat upon the curtained throne by the side of the high altar, whilst Maria Teresa stood beneath the canopy, and Don Luis Haro, who was honoured by holding the proxy of King Louis to marry her, stood a step below her. The church was crowded with French princes, princesses, and nobles in disguise intermingled with the Spaniards, and, as the pontifical mass was sung with its beautiful ceremonial, appealing to all the senses before that gorgeous assembly, St. Sebastian reached the apogee of its glory, never to be surpassed. When the sacrament was ended the Bishop descended to the canopy, where the Infanta and Haro were standing before the King. In answer to the ritual question whether she would take his Majesty the most Christian King for a husband, the Infanta with streaming eyes turned and sank upon her knees before her father. Philip, himself overcome with emotion, bowed his head and gave his blessing to the daughter who was to be the pledge of future peace between Spain and France; and the Bishop had to repeat his question three times before the weeping Princess could summon composure enough to reply in the affirmative. Then she and Haro together placed their hands in a great gold dish that stood upon a side table, whilst Haro in the name of King Louis XIV. accepted Maria Teresa of Austria as his legitimate wife. Taking a gold ring from the centre of the salver upon which their hands rested, the Spanish minister placed it upon the rim near the fingers of the Infanta, but without touching them; and then with a sweeping flood of melody the Te Deum burst out, whilst the great guns of the fortress upon the crag overhanging the church thundered their message to the two realms that another Spanish Princess was Queen of France.[[34]] In the midst of the uproar King Philip led his daughter from the church, followed by all the glittering crowd.
Marriage of Maria Teresa
That afternoon the royal party rode to the neighbouring land-locked Port of Pasages three miles away, and so to Renteria for dinner, and by Oyarzun to the ancient fortress village of Fuentarrabia on its jutting peninsula, from which you may cast a stone to France on the other side of the river mouth. The roads were so narrow and bad that the maids of honour were upset on the way; and Don Luis de Haro, anxious as he was to do honour to the Sovereign who had made him little less than a King, he was unable to meet him on the narrow rocky causeway, but perforce had to stand, surrounded by the King's Guards in their new yellow uniforms, at the gate of the ancient palace fortress upon its cliff, that twenty-two years before had so stoutly withstood the siege of the French by land and sea.
The following day, whilst preparations for the public interviews upon the Isle of Pheasants were being made, Philip embarked with his daughter, Haro, and a very few attendants, amongst whom was Diego Velazquez, and landed privately upon the little island in mid stream. The buildings, which had been specially erected for the peace conference of the previous autumn, were constructed with the jealous punctiliousness which always characterised the intercourse between France and Spain. The eyot was divided into a Spanish and a French half, and the houses, each in its respective territory, were connected by a corridor, the conference hall, which stood upon the dividing line, being half upon Spanish and half on French soil. Even in Philip's private meeting with the sister from whom he had been separated and at war so long, the utmost precision of etiquette was preserved. Landing on the Spanish part of the island, and entering the Spanish house, he bade all his attendants stay behind, except Haro, Velazquez, and one or two more, who alone accompanied him to the hall, where, on the French side of the dividing line across the hall, stood Anna of Austria.
The meeting was a painful one, for when they had last met Philip and his sister had been in the flower of youth, full of hope and bright ambition; and now both were old and broken, with lives of bitterness behind them. Both brother and sister had been slaves of their passions, and had surrendered their regal power to other hands. They had been but figureheads of State; and though, as was the case with all their house, their family affection had been strong, national aspirations had been too powerful for them, and victor and vanquished, brother and sister, must have felt themselves, for all their grandeur, the helpless victims of forces beyond their control or understanding. Anna of Austria broke down into piteous tears when she saw the unhappy face of her brother; and, after a few low-spoken words of comfort had passed between them, there came tiptoeing silently behind the Cardinal and Don Luis, who stood behind Queen Anna, a handsome young man with aquiline features and a nascent black down upon his upper lip. He wore, in the French fashion of the time, high red heels to his shoes; and a flowing black curled periwig fell upon the wide Walloon collar of fine lawn that covered the shoulders of his satin skirted-coat. Peeping over the shoulders of those before him,[[35]] himself supposed to be unseen, thus Louis XIV. first looked upon his bride, and upon the King the ruin of whose realm and dynasty was to make way for the supremacy of France and the Roi Soleil.
The wedding
At length, on Sunday, 6th June, all was ready for the ceremonial meeting and delivery of the bride to her new country. At a signal both monarchs stepped into their boats at the same time, Philip in Fuenterrabia and Louis in St. Jean de Luz, followed soon by crowds of other boats filled with courtiers as fine as silks and satins and bullion tissues could make them, for sumptuary decrees were all thrown to the winds now; whilst strong armed forces, 12,000 troops in all, with loaded arms and new uniforms, stood upon each side of the tiny stream, as many as 4000 cavalry being arrayed on the French bank, with numbers of pikemen and guards; "all smart looking troops, but both men and horses small," said a Spanish expert, who thought Philip's fine array of red and yellow guards "better troops, smarter and with better horses."[[36]] As far as the eye reached on either side, crowds of people stood upon the banks, and far away upon the hills overlooking the scene, which for most of them promised peace and renewed prosperity; whilst the ante-rooms of the conference hall which was to be the scene of the interview were packed to suffocation by a privileged crowd of nobles and courtiers of both nations.
At the same moment the two Kings landed upon their respective ends of the island, and at the same moment they and their suites entered the conference hall by opposite doors, Philip leading his daughter, followed by Haro and a great household, and Louis his mother with Mazarin, and forty ladies-in-waiting behind. Advancing to the line that divided the room, Louis made as if to kneel to Philip, who prevented him from doing so by clasping him in his arms. "My son," said Philip, "I welcome you. For me this has been the happiest day I have ever known or shall know; for I see your Majesty is as well as I can wish"; and then, pointing to the Infanta, he continued: "the only person after your Majesty who could have brought me on this journey is this piece of my own heart, that I have brought to give you for your wife; and I trust that your Majesty will hold her in the esteem she deserves, not only as Queen of France and my daughter, but also in consideration of the goodwill with which I give her to you."[[37]] Anna of Austria was weeping copiously the while; but Louis himself, not to be outdone in courtesy, was fully equal to the occasion. "My father," he said, "only the favours I am receiving from the generous and potent hands of your Majesty could force me to confess myself not only unworthy to be the son of so powerful a monarch, but also your humble vassal," and with that he warmly returned his uncle's embrace.
Much more flattering talk there was about Philip's potency and strength, and the obligation of France to him. It pleased the Spaniards vastly; for words with them ever took the place of deeds when their pride was touched, and every courteous word of the Frenchmen was as balm in Gilead to men who, in their heart of hearts, knew that poverty, humiliation and defeat had befallen them and their country. Many tears there were, too, when Philip formally handed his daughter to her new husband, and the four sovereigns took their seats side by side on thrones arranged for them across the line. Then Mazarin came forward with a missal in his hand, upon which Philip on his knees swore to keep the terms of the peace, and the Patriarch of the Indies administered a similar oath to Louis. The public act being thus ended, the hall was cleared of the crowds of nobles that encumbered it, and for four hours the royal party gave themselves up to familiar intercourse; after which Louis with his Court, "the most enchanting sight ever seen in the world," says the Spanish chronicler, rode off to St. Jean de Luz, and Philip returned by Irun to Fuenterrabia.
Of the costly presents on both sides, of the overwhelming magnificence of the subsequent ceremonies in St. Jean de Luz, where the personal marriage took place,[[38]] and of the delight of the gallant Spanish courtiers at the nice French fashion of kissing all the ladies, it boots not here to tell; but as Philip and his cumbrous Court slowly wended their way home again to Madrid, the younger courtiers of both sexes, at all events, took back with them something like a contempt for the old Spanish fashions which had persisted so long.[[39]] The golilla was voted stiff and ungraceful when compared with the fine lace cravats of the French; black-framed goggles looked frumpish; the ropilla and close doublet were not half so modish as the full skirted long tunics, open in the front and showing a smart vest, that Louis and his gentlemen had worn; and who would care to wear thin lank hair, even when a topknot on the brow and guedejas before the ears adorned it, when he could buy a splendid flowing curly periwig such as made the French look so stately? It is true that the change of fashion that began on the banks of the Bidasoa did not go very deep or far away from Court; for the common people clung to the old modes still, and the wars that divided Spain forty years afterwards caused French fashions, or anything but Spanish, to be loathed by all ranks as unpatriotic. But, nevertheless, this great transmigration of Spanish courtiers to the French frontier in 1660 was the first opening of the door by which some glimpses of light from a new Europe entered Spain, the first inkling to Spaniards that anything outside their own frontiers could be estimable and worth imitating.