MARY'S BETROTHAL.
After the marriage articles had been ratified, Philip sent a present of a magnificent jewel to the English queen, by a Spanish noble of high rank, the Marquis de las Nayas.[91] The marquis, who crossed from Biscay with a squadron of four ships, landed at Plymouth, and, as he journeyed towards London, was met by the young Lord Herbert, son of the earl of Pembroke, who conducted him, with an escort of four hundred mounted gentlemen, to his family seat in Wiltshire. "And as they rode together to Wilton," says Lord Edmund Dudley, one of the party, "there were certain courses at the hare, which was so pleasant that the marquis much delighted in finding the course so readily appointed. As for the marquis's great cheer, as well that night at supper as otherwise at his breakfast the next day, surely it was so abundant, that it was not a little marvel to consider that so great a preparation could be made in so small a warning.... Surely it was not a little[{45}] comfort to my heart to see all things so honorably used for the honor and service of the queen's majesty."[92]
Meanwhile, Philip was making his arrangements for leaving Spain, and providing a government for the country during his absence. It was decided by the emperor to intrust the regency to his daughter, the Princess Joanna. She was eight years younger than Philip. About eighteen months before, she had gone to Portugal as the bride of the heir of that kingdom. But the fair promise afforded by this union was blasted by the untimely death of her consort, which took place on the second of January, 1554. Three weeks afterwards, the unhappy widow gave birth to a son, the famous Don Sebastian, whose Quixotic adventures have given him a wider celebrity than is enjoyed by many a wiser sovereign. After the cruel calamity which had befallen her, it was not without an effort that Joanna resigned herself to her father's wishes, and consented to enter on the duties of public life. In July, she quitted Lisbon,—the scene of early joys, and of hopes for ever blighted,—and, amidst the regrets of the whole court, returned, under a princely escort, to Castile. She was received on the borders by the king, her brother, who conducted her to Valladolid. Here she was installed, with due solemnity, in her office of regent. A council of state was associated with her in the government. It consisted of persons of the highest consideration, with the archbishop of Seville at their head. By this body Joanna was to be advised, and indeed to be guided in all matters of moment. Philip, on his departure, left his sister an ample letter of instructions as to the policy to be pursued by the administration, especially in affairs of religion.[93]
Joanna seems to have been a woman of discretion and virtue,—qualities which belonged to the females of her line. She was liberal in her benefactions to convents and colleges; and their cloistered inmates showed their gratitude by the most lavish testimony to her deserts. She had one rather singular practice. She was in the habit of dropping her veil, when giving audience to foreign ambassadors. To prevent all doubts as to her personal identity, she began the audience by raising her veil, saying, "Am I not the princess?" She then again covered her face, and the conference was continued without her further exposing her features. "It was not necessary," says her biographer, in an accommodating spirit, "to have the face uncovered in order to hear."[94] Perhaps Joanna considered this reserve as suited to the season of her mourning, intending it as a mark of respect to the memory of her deceased lord. In any other view, we might suspect that there entered into her constitution a[{46}] vein of the same madness which darkened so large a part of the life of her grandmother and namesake, Joanna of Castile.
Before leaving Valladolid, Philip formed a separate establishment for his son, Don Carlos, and placed his education under the care of a preceptor, Luis de Vives, a scholar not to be confounded with his namesake, the learned tutor of Mary of England. Having completed his arrangements, Philip set out for the place of his embarkation in the north. At Compostella he passed some days, offering up his devotions to the tutelar saint of Spain, whose shrine, throughout the Middle Ages, had been the most popular resort of pilgrims from the western parts of Christendom.
While at Compostella, Philip subscribed the marriage treaty, which had been brought over from England by the earl of Bedford. He then proceeded to Corunna, where a fleet of more than a hundred sail was riding at anchor, in readiness to receive him. It was commanded by the admiral of Castile, and had on board, besides its complement of seamen, four thousand of the best troops of Spain. On the eleventh of July, Philip embarked, with his numerous retinue, in which, together with the Flemish Counts Egmont and Hoorne, were to be seen the dukes of Alva and Medina Cœli, the prince of Eboli,—in short, the flower of the Castilian nobility. They came attended by their wives and vassals, minstrels and mummers, and a host of idle followers, to add to the splendor of the pageant and do honor to their royal master. Yet the Spanish ambassador at London had expressly recommended to Philip that his courtiers should leave their ladies at home, and should come in as simple guise as possible, so as not to arouse the jealousy of the English.[95]
After a pleasant run of a few days, the Spanish squadron came in sight of the combined fleets of England and Flanders, under the command of the Lord Admiral Howard, who was cruising in the channel in order to meet the prince and convoy him to the English shore. The admiral seems to have been a blunt sort of man, who spoke his mind with more candor than courtesy. He greatly offended the Flemings by comparing their ships to muscle-shells.[96] He is even said to have fired a gun as he approached Philip's squadron, in order to compel it to lower its topsails in acknowledgment of the supremacy of the English in the "narrow seas." But this is probably the patriotic vaunt of an English writer, since it is scarcely possible that the haughty Spaniard of that day would have made such a concession, and still less so that the British commander would have been so discourteous as to exact it on this occasion.
On the nineteenth of July, the fleets came to anchor in the port of Southampton. A number of barges were soon seen pushing off from the shore; one of which, protected by a rich awning and superbly lined with cloth of gold, was manned by sailors, whose dress of white and green intimated the royal livery. It was the queen's barge, intended for Philip; while the other boats, all gaily ornamented, received his nobles and their retinues.
PHILIP'S SPLENDID RECEPTION.
The Spanish prince was welcomed, on landing, by a goodly company of English lords, assembled to pay him their obeisance. The earl of Arundel presented him, in the queen's name, with the splendid insignia of the order of the Garter.[97] Philip's dress, as usual, was of plain black velvet, with a[{47}] berret cap, ornamented, after the fashion of the time, with gold chains. By Mary's orders, a spirited Andalusian jennet had been provided for him, which the prince instantly mounted. He was a good rider, and pleased the people by his courteous bearing, and the graceful manner in which he managed his horse.