Philip and Mary passed a few days in this merry way of life, at Winchester, whence they removed, with their court, to Windsor. Here a chapter of the order of the Garter was held, for the purpose of installing King Philip. The herald, on this occasion, ventured to take down the arms of England, and substitute those of Spain, in honor of the new sovereign,—an act of deference which roused the indignation of the English lords, who straightway compelled the functionary to restore the national escutcheon to its proper place.[109]
On the twenty-eighth of August, Philip and Mary made their public entry into London. They rode in on horseback, passing through the borough of Southwark, across London Bridge. Every preparation was made by the loyal citizens to give them a suitable reception. The columns of the buildings were festooned with flowers, triumphal arches spanned the streets, the walls were hung with pictures or emblazoned with legends in commemoration of the illustrious pair, and a genealogy was traced for Philip, setting forth his descent from John of Gaunt,—making him out, in short, as much of an Englishman as possible.
Among the paintings was one in which Henry the Eighth was seen holding in his hand a Bible. This device gave great scandal to the chancellor, Gardiner, who called the painter sundry hard names, rating him roundly for putting into King Harry's hand the sacred volume, which should rather have been given to his daughter, Queen Mary, for her zeal to restore the primitive worship of the Church. The unlucky artist lost no time in repairing his error by brushing out the offending volume, and did it so effectually, that he brushed out the royal fingers with it, leaving the old monarch's mutilated stump held up, like some poor mendicant's, to excite the compassion of the spectators.[110]
But the sight which, more than all these pageants, gave joy to the hearts of the Londoners, was an immense quantity of bullion, which Philip caused to be paraded through the city on its way to the Tower, where it was deposited[{52}] in the royal treasury. The quantity was said to be so great, that, on one occasion, the chests containing it filled twenty carts. On another, two wagons were so heavily laden with the precious metal as to require to be drawn by nearly a hundred horses.[111] The good people, who had looked to the coming of the Spaniards as that of a swarm of locusts which was to consume their substance, were greatly pleased to see their exhausted coffers so well replenished from the American mines.
From London the royal pair proceeded to the shady solitudes of Hampton Court, and Philip, weary of the mummeries in which he had been compelled to take part, availed himself of the indisposition of his wife to indulge in that retirement and repose which were more congenial to his taste. This way of life in his pleasant retreat, however, does not appear to have been so well suited to the taste of his English subjects. At least, an old chronicler peevishly complains that "the hall-door within the court was continually shut, so that no man might enter unless his errand were first known; which seemed strange to Englishmen that had not been used thereto."[112]
Yet Philip, although his apprehensions for his safety had doubtless subsided, was wise enough to affect the same conciliatory manners as on his first landing,—and not altogether in vain. "He discovered," says the Venetian ambassador, in his report to the senate, "none of that sosiego—the haughty indifference of the Spaniards—which distinguished him when he first left home for Italy and Flanders.[113] He was, indeed, as accessible as any one could desire, and gave patient audience to all who asked it. He was solicitous," continues Micheli, "to instruct himself in affairs, and showed a taste for application to business,"—which, it may be added, grew stronger with years. "He spoke little. But his remarks, though brief, were pertinent. In short," he concludes, "he is a prince of an excellent genius, a lively apprehension, and a judgment ripe beyond his age."
Philip's love of business, however, was not such as to lead him to take part prematurely in the management of affairs. He discreetly left this to the queen and her ministers, to whose judgment he affected to pay the greatest deference. He particularly avoided all appearance of an attempt to interfere with the administration of justice, unless it were to obtain some act of grace. Such interference only served to gain him the more credit with the people.[114][{53}]
PHILIP'S INFLUENCE.
That he gained largely on their good-will may be inferred from the casual remarks of more than one contemporary writer. They bear emphatic testimony to the affability of his manners, so little to have been expected from the popular reports of his character. "Among other things," writes Wotton, the English minister at the French court, "one I have been right glad to hear of is, that the king's highness useth himself so gently and lovingly to all men. For, to tell you the truth, I have heard some say, that, when he came out of Spain into Italy, it was by some men wished that he had showed a somewhat more benign countenance to the people than it was said he then did."[115] Another contemporary, in a private letter, written soon after the king's entrance into London, after describing his person as "so well proportioned that Nature cannot work a more perfect pattern," concludes with commending him for his "pregnant wit and most gentle nature."[116]
Philip, from the hour of his landing, had been constant in all his religious observances. "He was as punctual," says Micheli, "in his attendance at mass, and his observance of all the forms of devotion, as any monk;—more so, as some people thought, than became his age and station. The ecclesiastics," he adds, "with whom Philip had constant intercourse, talked loudly of his piety."[117]