CHAPTER III.
OF THE AFFRONT OFFERED TO THE SPANIARDS BY THE LORD HIGH ADMIRAL; AND OF THE PRINCE’S ARRIVAL AT SOUTHAMPTON.
Charles V. has been described as more of a Fleming than a Spaniard, and his son Philip as more of a Spaniard than a Fleming. But the Prince bore a strong resemblance to his sire, though he was not so tall as the Emperor, and more slightly and elegantly formed than that martial monarch. Apparently, Philip must have looked like a Scotsman, since he was compared by a Highlander, John Elder, “the Redshank,” who saw him on his entrance into London, to “John Hume, my Lord of Jedward’s kinsman.” The Redshank seems to have been greatly struck by the royal Spaniard’s personal appearance and deportment, for he says, “his pace is princely, and gait so straight and upright as he loses no inch of height;” adding, “he is so well-proportioned of body, arm, and leg, as nature cannot work a more perfect pattern.”
But we have Philip actually brought before us as he lived and moved at the period in question in the portraits of Titian and Sir Antonio More. There we see his slight and singularly elegant figure, and admire his striking costume. There we may peruse his remarkable lineaments, every trait of which has been preserved by the great painters with extraordinary fidelity. Philip’s face was a perfect oval, and all the features good, except the mouth, the lower lip of which was too full, and projected beyond the upper—a defect inherited by the Prince from his father, who was considerably under-jawed. Philip’s complexion was fair, of almost feminine delicacy and clearness, his eyes large and blue, and shaded by thick brows meeting over the nose. His hair, worn short, according to the Spanish mode, was of a golden yellow—a circumstance which, no doubt, caused the Redshank to liken him to “my Lord of Jedward’s kinsman;”—and his pointed beard of the same hue. His forehead was lofty, and white as marble, and his nose long, straight, and perfectly proportioned. In regard to his attire, he was extremely particular, affecting dark colours, as they best suited him; and he had the good taste to dispense with embroidery and ornament. On the present occasion he had in no wise departed from his rule. Black velvet haut-de-chausses, black taffetas hose, velvet buskins, doublet of black satin, all fitting to perfection, constituted his habiliments. Over all, he wore a short black damask mantle furred with sable. His neck was encircled by the collar of the Golden Fleece, and on his head sat a black velvet cap, having a small chain of gold as its sole ornament.
This costume, chosen with great judgment, was admirably calculated to display the graces of his person, and set off the extreme fairness of his complexion. Moreover, the Prince’s demeanour was marked by extraordinary loftiness, and an ineffable air of the highest breeding pervaded his every look and gesture.
Philip was only nineteen when he was first married. Doña Maria of Portugal, the Princess to whom he was then united, died in giving birth to a son, the half-crazed and savage-natured Don Carlos, whose fate is involved in mystery, though it is supposed he was poisoned by his father’s orders. It will be seen, as we proceed, how Philip treated his second consort; but we may mention that to neither of those who succeeded her—he was twice again married—did he manifest much affection. To his third wife, the young and beautiful Elizabeth de Valois, eldest daughter of Henri II. and Catherine de Medicis, he was unaccountably indifferent, repaying her tenderness and devotion by constant neglect and infidelities. At all times, he seems to have preferred any other female society to that of the one entitled to his regard. His fourth wife, Anne of Austria, was but little better treated than her predecessors. Philip long survived her, and would have married again if he could have found among the royal families of Europe an alliance sufficiently tempting. The sole being he entirely loved was the Infanta Isabella, his daughter by his third wife. She served him as his secretary, during his retirement in the Escurial in his latter days, and when dying, he commended her to his son and successor in these terms: “Philip, I charge you to have always the greatest care of the Infanta, your sister. She has been the light of my eyes.”