Nor is there the least evidence that the admiration excited by the queen, whether in Carlos or in the courtiers, gave any uneasiness to Philip, who seems to have reposed entire confidence in her discretion. And while we find Isabella speaking of Philip to her mother as "so good a husband, and rendering her so happy by his attentions, that it made the dullest spot in the world agreeable to her,"[1548] we meet with a letter from the French minister, Guibert, saying that "the king goes on loving the queen more and more, and that her influence has increased threefold within the last few months."[1549] A few years later, in 1565, St. Sulpice, then ambassador in Madrid, writes to the queen-mother in emphatic terms of the affectionate intercourse that subsisted between Philip and his consort. "I can assure you, madam," he says, "that the queen, your daughter, lives in the greatest content in the world, by reason of the perfect friendship which ever draws her more closely to her husband. He shows her the most unreserved confidence, and is so cordial in his treatment of her as to leave nothing to be desired."[1550] The writer quotes a declaration made to him by Philip, that "the loss of his consort would be a heavier misfortune than had ever yet befallen him."[1551]
Nor was this an empty profession in the king, as he evinced by his indulgence of Isabella's tastes,—even those national tastes which were not always in accordance with the more rigid rules of Castilian etiquette. To show the freedom[{494}] with which she lived, I may perhaps be excused for touching on a few particulars, already noticed in a previous chapter. On her coming into the country, she was greeted with balls and other festivities, to which she had been accustomed in the gay capital of France. Her domestic establishment was on a scale of magnificence suited to her station; and the old courtier, Brantôme, dwells with delight on the splendid profusion of her wardrobe, and the costly jewels with which it was adorned. When she went abroad, she dispensed with her veil, after the fashion of her own country, though so much at variance with the habits of the Spanish ladies. Yet it made her a greater favorite with the people, who crowded around her wherever she appeared, eager to catch a glimpse of her beautiful features. She brought into the country a troop of French ladies and waiting-women, some of whom remained, and married in Castile. Such as returned home, she provided with liberal dowries. To persons of her own nation she was ever accessible,—receiving the humblest as well as the highest, says her biographer, with her wonted benignity. With them she conversed in her native tongue. But, in the course of three months, her ready wit had so far mastered the Castilian, that she could make herself understood in that language, and in a short time spoke it with elegance, though with a slight foreign accent, not unpleasing. Born and bred among a people so different from that with whom her lot was now cast, Isabella seemed to unite in her own person the good qualities of each. The easy vivacity of the French character was so happily tempered by the gravity of the Spanish, as to give an inexpressible charm to her manners.[1552] Thus richly endowed with the best gifts of nature and of fortune, it is no wonder that Elizabeth of France should have been the delight of the courtly circle over which she presided, and of which she was the greatest ornament.
Her gentle nature must have been much disturbed, by witnessing the wild, capricious temper of Carlos, and the daily increasing estrangement of his father. Yet she did not despair of reclaiming him. At least, we may infer so from the eagerness with which she seconded her mother in pressing the union of her sister, Catherine de Medicis' younger daughter, with the prince. "My sister is of so excellent a disposition," the queen said to Ruy Gomez, "that no princess in Christendom would be more apt to moderate and accommodate herself to my step-son's humors, or be better suited to the father, as well as the son, in their relations with each other."[1553] But although the minister readily adopted the queen's views in the matter, they met with little encouragement from Philip, who, at that time, seemed more inclined to a connection with the house of Austria.
HER ILLNESS.
In the preceding chapter, we have seen the pain occasioned to Isabella by the arrest of Carlos. Although so far a gainer by it as it opened to her own posterity the way to the succession, she wept, as the ambassador Fourquevaulx tells us, for two days, over the misfortune of her step-son, until forbidden by Philip to weep any longer.[1554] During his confinement, as we have seen, she was not permitted to visit him,—not even to soften the bitterness of his dying hour. And how much her presence would have soothed him, at such a time, may be inferred from the simple memorandum found among his papers, in which he assigns her the first place among his friends, as having[{495}] been ever the most loving to him.[1555] The same affection, however we may define it, which he had borne her from the first, he retained to the last hour of his life. All that was now granted to Isabella was the sad consolation of joining with the Princess Joanna, and the few friends who still cherished the memory of Carlos, in celebrating his funeral obsequies.
Not long after that event, it was announced that the queen was pregnant; and the nation fondly hoped that it would find a compensation for the loss of its rightful prince, in the birth of a new heir to the throne. But this hope was destined soon to be destroyed. Owing to some mismanagement on the part of the physicians, who, at an early period, misunderstood the queen's situation, the medicines they gave her had an injurious effect on her constitution.[1556] It is certain that Isabella placed little confidence in the Spanish doctors, or in their prescriptions.[1557] There may have been good ground for her distrust; for their vigorous applications savor not a little of the Sangrado school of practice, directed quite as much against the constitution of the patient as against his disease. About the middle of September a fever set in, which, though not violent, was so obstinate as to defy all the efforts of the physicians to reduce it. More alarming symptoms soon followed. The queen frequently swooned. Her extremities became torpid. Medicines were of no avail, for her stomach refused to retain them.[1558] Processions were everywhere made to the churches, and young and old joined in prayers for her recovery. But these prayers were not heard. The strength of Isabella continued rapidly to decline, and by the last of September her life was despaired of. The physicians declared that science could go no further, and that the queen's only hope must be in Heaven.[1559]—In Heaven she had always trusted; nor was she so wedded to the pomps and glories of the world, that she could not now willingly resign them.
As her ladies, many of them her countrywomen, stood weeping around her bed, she endeavored to console them under their affliction, kindly expressing the interest she took in their future welfare, and her regret that she had not made them a bitter mistress;—"as if," says a contemporary, who has left a minute record of her last moments, "she had not been always more of a mother than a mistress to them all!"[1560]
On the evening of the second of October, as Isabella felt herself drawing[{496}] near her end, she made her will. She then confessed, partook of the sacrament, and, at her desire, extreme unction was administered to her. Cardinal Espinosa and the king's confessor, the bishop of Cuenca, who were present, while they offered her spiritual counsel and consolation, were greatly edified by her deportment; and, giving her their parting benediction, they went away deeply affected by the spirit of Christian resignation which she displayed.[1561]
Before daybreak, on the following morning, she had her last interview with Philip. We have the account of it from Fourquevaulx. "The queen spoke to her husband very naturally," says the ambassador, "and like a Christian. She took leave of him for ever, and never did princess show more goodness and piety. She commended to him her two daughters, and her principal attendants, beseeching him to live in amity with the king of France, her brother, and to maintain peace,—with other discourse, which could not fail to touch the heart of a good husband, which the king was to her. He showed, in his replies, the same composure as she did, and promised to obey all her requests, but added, he did not think her end so near. He then withdrew,—as I was told,—in great anguish, to his own chamber."[1562] Philip sent a fragment of the true cross, to comfort his wife in her last moments. It was the most precious of his relics, and was richly studded with pearls and diamonds.[1563] Isabella fervently kissed the sacred relic, and held it, with the crucifix, in her hand, while she yet lived.
Not long after the interview with her husband, the ambassador was summoned to her bedside. He was the representative of her native land, and of the dear friends there she was never more to see. "She knew me," writes Fourquevaulx, "and said, 'You see me in the act of quitting this vain world, to pass to a more pleasant kingdom; there, as I hope, to be for ever with my God. Tell my mother, the queen, and the king, my brother, to bear my death with patience, and to comfort themselves with the reflection, that no happiness on earth has ever made me so content, as the prospect now does of approaching my Creator. I shall soon be in a better situation to do them service, and to implore God to take them and my brothers under his holy protection. Beseech them, in my name, to watch over their kingdom, that an end may be put to the heresies which have spread there. And I will pray Heaven, in its mercy, to grant that they may take my death with patience, and hold me for happy.'"[1564]