All the while, Philip had been in the presence of the infanta, unknown to herself. Impatient to see his destined bride, the young prince had sallied out, with a few attendants, to the distance of five or six miles from the city, all in the disguise of huntsmen. He wore a slouched velvet hat on his head, and his face was effectually concealed under a gauze mask, so that he could mingle in the crowd by the side of the infanta, and make his own scrutiny, unmarked by any one. In this way he accompanied the procession during the five hours which it lasted, until the darkness had set in; "if darkness could be spoken of," says the chronicler, "where the blaze of ten thousand torches shed a light stronger than day."
The following evening, November the twelfth, was appointed for the marriage. The duke and duchess of Alva stood as sponsors, and the nuptial ceremony was performed by Tavera, archbishop of Toledo. The festivities were prolonged through another week. The saloons were filled with the beauty of Castile. The proudest aristocracy in Europe vied with each other in the display of magnificence at the banquet and the tourney: and sounds of merriment succeeded to the tranquillity which had so long reigned in the cloistered shades of Salamanca.
On the nineteenth of the month the new-married pair transferred their residence to Valladolid,—a city at once fortunate and fatal to the princess. Well might the chronicler call it "fatal;" for, in less than two years, July 8th,[{18}] 1545, she there gave birth to a son, the celebrated Don Carlos, whose mysterious fate has furnished so fruitful a theme for speculation. Mary survived the birth of her child but a few days. Had her life been spared, a mother's care might perhaps have given a different direction to his character, and, through this, to his fortunes. The remains of the infanta, first deposited in the cathedral of Granada, were afterwards removed to the Escorial, that magnificent mausoleum prepared by her husband for the royalty of Spain.[24]
In the following year died Tavera, archbishop of Toledo. He was an excellent man, and greatly valued by the emperor; who may be thought to have passed a sufficient encomium on his worth when he declared, that "by his death Philip had suffered a greater loss than by that of Mary; for he could get another wife, but not another Tavera." His place was filled by Siliceo, Philip's early preceptor, who, after having been raised to the archiepiscopal see of Toledo, received a cardinal's hat from Rome. The accommodating spirit of the good ecclesiastic had doubtless some influence in his rapid advancement from the condition of a poor teacher in Salamanca to the highest post,—as the see of Toledo, with its immense revenues and authority, might be considered,—next to the papacy, in the Christian Church.
For some years, no event of importance occurred to disturb the repose of the Peninsula. But the emperor was engaged in a stormy career abroad, in which his arms were at length crowned with success by the decisive battle of Muhlberg.
This victory, which secured him the person of his greatest enemy, placed him in a position for dictating terms to the Protestant princes of Germany. He had subsequently withdrawn to Brussels, where he received an embassy from Philip, congratulating him on the success of his arms. Charles was desirous to see his son, from whom he had now been separated nearly six years. He wished, moreover, to introduce him to the Netherlands, and make him personally acquainted with the people over whom he was one day to rule. He sent instructions, accordingly, to Philip, to repair to Flanders, so soon as the person appointed to relieve him in the government should arrive in Castile.
The individual selected by the emperor for this office was Maximilian, the son of his brother Ferdinand. He was a young man of good parts, correct judgment, and popular manners,—well qualified, notwithstanding his youth, for the post assigned to him. He was betrothed, as already mentioned, to the emperor's eldest daughter, his cousin Mary; and the regency was to be delivered into his hands on the marriage of the parties.
Philip received his father's commands while presiding at the cortes of Monzon. He found the Aragonese legislature by no means so tractable as the Castilian. The deputies from the mountains of Aragon and from the sea-coast of Catalonia were alike sturdy in their refusal to furnish further supplies for those ambitious enterprises, which, whatever glory they might bring to their sovereign, were of little benefit to them. The independent people of these provinces urged their own claims with a pertinacity, and criticized the conduct of their rulers with a bluntness, that was little grateful to the ear of majesty. The convocation of the Aragonese cortes was, in the view of the[{19}] king of Spain, what the convocation of a general council was in that of the pope,—a measure not to be resorted to but from absolute necessity.
On the arrival of Maximilian in Castile, his marriage with the Infanta Mary was immediately celebrated. The ceremony took place, with all the customary pomp, in the courtly city of Valladolid. Among the festivities that followed may be noticed the performance of a comedy of Ariosto,—a proof that the beautiful Italian literature, which had exercised a visible influence on the compositions of the great Castilian poets of the time, had now commended itself, in some degree, to the popular taste.
Before leaving the country, Philip, by his father's orders, made a change in his domestic establishment, which he formed on the Burgundian model. This was more ceremonious, and far more costly, than the primitive usage of Castile. A multitude of new offices was created, and the most important were filled by grandees of the highest class. The duke of Alva was made mayor-domo mayor; Antonio de Toledo, his kinsman, master of the horse; Figueroa, count of Feria, captain of the body-guard. Among the chamberlains was Ruy Gomez de Silva, prince of Eboli, one of the most important members of the cabinet under Philip. Even the menial offices connected with the person and table of the prince were held by men of rank. A guard was lodged in the palace. Philip dined in public in great state, attended by his kings-at-arms, and by a host of minstrels and musicians. One is reminded of the pompous etiquette of the court of Louis the Fourteenth. All this, however, was distasteful to the Spaniards, who did not comprehend why the prince should relinquish the simple usages of his own land for the fashions of Burgundy. Neither was it to the taste of Philip himself; but it suited that of his father, who was desirous that his son should flatter the Flemings by the assumption of a state to which they had been accustomed in their Burgundian princes.[25]