The arrest of Don Carlos caused a great sensation throughout the country, much increased by the mysterious circumstances which had attended it. The wildest rumors were afloat as to the cause. Some said the prince had meditated a design against his father's life; others, that he had conspired against that of Ruy Gomez. Some said that he was plotting rebellion, and had taken part with the Flemings; others suspected him of heresy. Many took still a different view of the matter,—censuring the father rather than the son. "His dagger followed close upon his smile," says the historian of Philip; "hence some called him wise, others severe."[1459] Carlos, they said, never a favorite, might have been rash in his thoughts and words; but he had done no act which should have led a father to deal with his son so harshly. But princes are too apt to be jealous of their successors. They distrusted the bold and generous spirit of their offspring, whom it would be wiser to win over by admitting them to some reasonable share in the government.—"But others there were," concludes the wise chronicler of the times, "who, more prudent than their neighbors, laid their finger on their lips, and were silent."[1460]
For some days, Philip would allow no post to leave Madrid, that he might be the first to send intelligence of this event to foreign courts.[1461] On the twenty-fourth, he despatched circular letters to the great ecclesiastics, the grandees, and the municipalities of the chief cities of the kingdom. They were vague in their import, stating the fact of the arrest, and assigning much the same general grounds with those he had stated to the councils. On the same day he sent despatches to the principal courts of Europe. These, though singularly vague and mysterious in their language, were more pregnant with suggestions, at least, than the letters to his subjects. The most curious, on the whole, and the one that gives the best insight into his motives, is the letter he addressed to his aunt, the queen of Portugal. She was sister to the emperor, his father,—an estimable lady, whom Philip had always held in great respect.
"Although," he writes, "it has long been obvious that it was necessary to take some order in regard to the prince, yet the feelings of a father have led me to resort to all other means before proceeding to extremity. But affairs have at length come to such a pass, that, to fulfil the duty which, as a Christian prince, I owe both to God and to my realm, I have been compelled[{472}] to place my son in strict confinement. Thus have I been willing to sacrifice to God my own flesh and blood, preferring his service and the welfare of my people to all human considerations.[1462] I will only add, that this determination has not been brought about by any misconduct on the part of my son, or by any want of respect to me; nor is this treatment of him intended by way of chastisement,—for that, however just the grounds of it, would have its time and its limit.[1463] Neither have I resorted to it as an expedient for reforming his disorderly life. The proceeding rests altogether on another foundation; and the remedy I propose is not one either of time or expedients, but is of the greatest moment, as I have already remarked, to satisfy my obligations to God and my people."[1464]
In the same obscure strain, Philip addressed Zuñiga, his ambassador at the papal court,—saying, that, "although the disobedience which Carlos had shown through life was sufficient to justify any demonstration of severity, yet it was not this, but the stern pressure of necessity, that could alone have driven him to deal in this way with his first-born, his only son."[1465]
This ambiguous language—implying that the imprisonment of Carlos was not occasioned by his own misconduct, and yet that both the interests of religion and the safety of the state demanded his perpetual imprisonment—may be thought to intimate that the cause referred to could be no other than insanity. This was plainly stated by the prince of Eboli, in a communication which, by the king's order, he made to the French minister, Fourquevaulx. The king, Gomez said, had for three years past perceived that the prince's head was the weakest part of him, and that he was, at no time, in complete possession of his understanding. He had been silent on the matter, trusting that time would bring some amendment. But it had only made things worse; and he saw, with sorrow, that to commit the sceptre to his son's hands would be to bring inevitable misery on his subjects and ruin on the state. With unspeakable anguish, he had therefore resolved, after long deliberation, to place his son under constraint.[1466]
CAUSES OF HIS IMPRISONMENT.
This at least is intelligible, and very different from Philip's own despatches,—where it strikes us as strange, if insanity were the true ground of the arrest, that it should be covered up under such vague and equivocal language, with the declaration, moreover, usually made in his letters, that, "at some[{473}] future time, he would explain the matter more fully to the parties." One might have thought that the simple plea of insanity would have been directly given, as furnishing the best apology for the son, and at the same time vindicating the father for imposing a wholesome restraint upon his person. But, in point of fact, the excessive rigor of the confinement, as we shall have occasion to see, savored much more of the punishment dealt out to some high offender, than of the treatment of an unfortunate lunatic. Neither is it probable that a criminal process would have been instituted against one who, by his very infirmity, was absolved from all moral responsibility.
There are two documents, either of which, should it ever be brought to light, would probably unfold the true reasons of the arrest of Carlos. The Spanish ambassador, Zuñiga, informed Philip that the pope, dissatisfied with the account which he had given of the transaction, desired a further explanation of it from his majesty.[1467] This, from such a source, was nearly equivalent to a command. For Philip had a peculiar reverence for Pius the Fifth, the pope of the Inquisition, who was a pontiff after his own heart. The king is said never to have passed by the portrait of his holiness, which hung on the walls of the palace, without taking off his hat.[1468] He at once wrote a letter to the pope containing a full account of the transaction. It was written in cipher, with the recommendation that it should be submitted to Granvelle, then in Rome, if his holiness could not interpret it. This letter is doubtless in the Vatican.[1469]
The other document is the process. The king, immediately after the arrest of his son, appointed a special commission to try him. It consisted of Cardinal Espinosa, the prince of Eboli, and a royal councillor, Bribiesca de Muñatones, who was appointed to prepare the indictment. The writings containing the memorable process instituted by Philip's ancestor, John the Second of Aragon, against his amiable and unfortunate son, who also bore the name of Carlos, had been obtained from the Archives of Barcelona. They were translated from the Catalan into Castilian, and served for the ominous model for the present proceedings, which took the form of a trial for high treason. In conducting this singular prosecution, it does not appear that any counsel or evidence appeared on behalf of the prisoner, although a formidable amount of testimony, it would seem, was collected on the other side. But, in truth, we know little of the proceedings. There is no proof that any but the monarch, and the secret tribunal that presided over the trial,—if so it can be called,—ever saw the papers. In 1592, according to the historian Cabrera, they were deposited, by Philip's orders, in a green box, strongly secured, in the Archives of Simancas,[1470]—where, as we have no later information, they may still remain, to reward the labors of some future antiquary.[1471][{474}]
In default of these documents, we must resort to conjecture for the solution of this difficult problem; and there are several circumstances which may assist us in arriving at a conclusion. Among the foreign ministers at that time at the court of Madrid, none took more pains to come at the truth of this affair,—as his letters abundantly prove,—than the papal nuncio, Castaneo, archbishop of Rossano. He was a shrewd, sagacious prelate, whose position and credit at the court gave him the best opportunities for information. By Philip's command, Cardinal Espinosa gave the nuncio the usual explanation of the grounds on which Carlos had been arrested. "It is a strange story," said the nuncio, "that which we everywhere hear, of the prince's plot against his father's life." "It would be of little moment," replied the cardinal, "if the danger to the king were all; as it would be easy to protect his person. But the present case is worse,—if worse can be; and the king, who has seen the bad course which his son has taken for these two years past, has vainly tried to remedy it; till, finding himself unable to exercise any control over the hair-brained young man, he has been forced to this expedient."[1472]