While the occurrences related in the preceding chapter were passing, an event took place which, had it happened earlier, would have had an important influence on the politics of Europe, and the news of which, when it did happen, was everywhere received with the greatest interest. This event was the death of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, in his monastic retreat at Yuste. In the earlier pages of our narrative, we have seen how that monarch, after his abdication of the throne, withdrew to the Jeronymite convent among the hills of Estremadura. The reader may now feel some interest in following him thither, and in observing in what manner he accommodated himself to the change, and passed the closing days of his eventful life. The picture I am enabled to give of it will differ in some respects from those of former historians, who wrote when the Archives of Simancas, which afford the most authentic records for the narrative, were inaccessible to the scholar, native as well as foreign.[280]
CHARLES AT YUSTE.
Charles, as we have seen, had early formed the determination to relinquish[{121}] at some future time the cares of royalty, and devote himself, in some lonely retreat to the good work of his salvation. His consort, the Empress Isabella, as appears from his own statement at Yuste, had avowed the same pious purpose.[281] She died, however, too early to execute her plan; and Charles was too much occupied with his ambitious enterprises to accomplish his object until the autumn of 1555, when, broken in health and spirits, and disgusted with the world, he resigned the sceptre he had held for forty years, and withdrew to a life of obscurity and repose.
The spot he had selected for his residence was situated about seven leagues from the city of Plasencia, on the slopes of the mountain chain that traverses the province of Estremadura. There, nestling among the rugged hills, clothed with thick woods of chestnut and oak, the Jeronymite convent was sheltered from the rude breezes of the north. Towards the south, the land sloped by a gradual declivity, till it terminated in a broad expanse, the Vera of Plasencia, as it was called, which, fertilized by the streams of the sierra, contrasted strongly in its glowing vegetation with the wild character of the mountain scenery. It was a spot well fitted for such as would withdraw themselves from commerce with the world, and consecrate their days to prayer and holy meditation. The Jeronymite fraternity had prospered in this peaceful abode. Many of the monks had acquired reputation for sanctity, and some of them for learning, the fruits of which might be seen in a large collection of manuscripts preserved in the library of the monastery. Benefactions were heaped on the brotherhood. They became proprietors of considerable tracts of land in the neighborhood, and they liberally employed their means in dispensing alms to the poor who sought it at the gate of the convent. Not long before Charles took up his residence among them, they had enlarged their building by an extensive quadrangle, which displayed some architectural elegance in the construction of its cloisters.
Three years before the emperor repaired thither, he sent a skilful architect to provide such accommodations as he had designed for himself. These were very simple. A small building, containing eight rooms, four on each floor, was raised against the southern wall of the monastery. The rooms were low, and of a moderate size. They were protected by porticos, which sheltered them on two sides from the rays of the sun, while an open gallery, which passed through the centre of the house, afforded means for its perfect ventilation. But Charles, with his gouty constitution, was more afraid of the cold damps than of heat; and he took care to have the apartments provided with fire-places, a luxury little known in this temperate region.
A window opened from his chamber directly into the chapel of the monastery; and through this, when confined to his bed, and too ill to attend mass, he could see the elevation of the host. The furniture of the dwelling—according to an authority usually followed—was of the simplest kind; and Charles, we are told, took no better care of his gouty limbs than to provide himself with an arm-chair, or rather half a chair, which would not have brought four reals at auction.[282] The inventory of the furniture of Yuste tells[{122}] a very different story. Instead of "half an arm-chair," we find, besides other chairs lined with velvet, two arm-chairs especially destined to the emperor's service. One of these was of a peculiar construction, and was accommodated with no less than six cushions and a footstool, for the repose of his gouty limbs. His wardrobe showed a similar attention to his personal comfort. For one item we find no less than sixteen robes of silk and velvet, lined with ermine or eider-down, or the soft hair of the Barbary goat. The decorations of his apartment were on not merely a comfortable, but a luxurious scale;—canopies of velvet; carpets from Turkey and Alcaraz; suits of tapestry, of which twenty-five pieces are specified, richly wrought with figures of flowers and animals. Twelve hangings, of the finest black cloth, were for the emperor's bed-chamber, which, since his mother's death, had been always dressed in mourning. Among the ornaments of his rooms were four large clocks of elaborate workmanship. He had besides a number of pocket-watches, then a greater rarity than at present. He was curious in regard to his timepieces, and took care to provide for their regularity by bringing the manufacturer of them in his train to Yuste. Charles was served on silver. Even the meanest utensils for his kitchen and his sleeping apartment were of the same costly material, amounting to nearly fourteen thousand ounces in weight.[283]
The inventory contains rather a meagre show of books, which were for the most part of a devotional character. But Charles's love of art was visible in a small but choice collection of paintings, which he brought with him to adorn the walls of his retreat. Nine of these were from the pencil of Titian. Charles held the works of the great Venetian in the highest honor, and was desirous that by his hand his likeness should be transmitted to posterity. The emperor had brought with him to Yuste four portraits of himself and the empress by Titian; and among the other pieces by the same master were some of his best pictures. One of these was the famous "Gloria," in which Charles and the empress appear, in the midst of the celestial throng, supported by angels, and in an attitude of humble adoration.[284] He had the painting hung at the foot of his bed, or according to another account, over the great altar in the chapel. It is said, he would gaze long and fondly on this picture, which filled him with the most tender recollections; and as he dwelt on the image of one who had been so dear to him on earth, he may have looked forward to his reunion with her in the heavenly mansions, as the artist had here depicted him.[285][{123}]
CHARLES AT YUSTE.
A stairway, or rather an inclined plane, suited to the weakness of Charles's limbs, led from the gallery of his house to the gardens below. These were surrounded by a high wall, which completely secluded him from observation from without. The garden was filled with orange, citron, and fig trees, and various aromatic plants that grew luxuriantly in the genial soil. The emperor had a taste for horticulture, and took much pleasure in tending the young plants and pruning his trees. His garden afforded him also the best means for taking exercise; and in fine weather he would walk along an avenue of lofty chestnut-trees, that led to a pretty chapel in the neighboring woods, the ruins of which may be seen at this day. Among the trees, one is pointed out,—an overgrown walnut, still throwing its shade far and wide over the ground,—under whose branches the pensive monarch would sit and meditate on the dim future, or perhaps on the faded glories of the past.
Charles had once been the most accomplished horseman of his time. He had brought with him to Yuste a pony and a mule, in the hope of being able to get some exercise in the saddle. But the limbs that had bestrode day after day, without fatigue, the heavy war-horse of Flanders and the wildest genet of Andalusia, were unable now to endure the motion of a poor palfrey; and, after a solitary experiment in the saddle on his arrival at Yuste, when he nearly fainted, he abandoned it for ever.[286]