This king William was a little Cæsar. For twenty years he had carried on a war against one Martin, who had dared to attempt to become his equal. At length, after a famous and decisive general engagement, wherein William lost three men, and his rival five, Martin made overtures for a cessation of hostilities, which was agreed to, on the following conditions:
1. That Martin should renounce the title of king, and assume that of captain.
2. That captain Martin should never more put on stockings or slippers when he went on board European ships, but that this brilliant distinction should thenceforth solely belong to king William.
3. That captain Martin should give the conqueror his most handsome daughter in marriage.
In pursuance of this glorious treaty, the nuptials were solemnized, and king William went on board a Danish ship in stockings and slippers, where he bought silk to make a robe for his queen, and a grenadier’s cap for her majesty’s headdress. Captain Martin paid a visit of ceremony to his royal daughter on occasion of her finery, and declared she never appeared so handsome before. This wedding ended a feud, which had divided the sable tribe into combatants as sanguinary and ferocious as the partisans of the white and red rose in England.
Titles.
Until the reign of Constantine, the title of “Illustrious” was never given but to those whose reputation was splendid in arms or in letters. Suetonius wrote an account of those who had possessed this title. As it was then bestowed, a moderate book was sufficient to contain their names; nor was it continued to the descendants of those on whom it had been conferred. From the time of Constantine it became very common, and every son of a prince was “illustrious.”
Towards the decline of the Roman empire the emperors styled themselves “divinities!” In 404, Arcadius and Honorius issued the following decree:—
“Let the officers of the palace be warned to abstain from frequenting tumultuous meetings; and those who, instigated by a sacrilegious temerity, dare to oppose the authority of our divinity, shall be deprived of their employments, and their estates confiscated.” The letters of these emperors were called “holy.” When their sons spoke of them, they called them—“Their father of divine memory;” or “Their divine father.” They called their own laws “oracles,” and “celestial oracles.” Their subjects addressed them by the titles of “Your Perpetuity, Your Eternity.” A law of Theodore the Great ordains thus—“If any magistrate, after having concluded a public work, put his name rather than that of Our Perpetuity, let him be judged guilty of high treason.”
De Meunier observes, that the titles which some chiefs assume are not always honourable in themselves, but it is sufficient if the people respect them. The king of Quiterva calls himself the “Great Lion;” and for this reason lions are there so much respected, that it is not permitted to kill them, except at royal huntings.