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 Cornell University Library 
 DA 355.H92Y3 
 Year after the Armada, aMpther.histon 
 
 3 1924 027 982 648 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tiiis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924027982648 
 
THE YEAR AFTER THE ARMADA 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER HISTORICAL STUDIES 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR, 
 And iiiiifonii in size and style with this Volume. 
 
 THE COURTSHIPS OF QUEEN ELIZABETH: 
 
 A HISTORY OF THE VARIOUS NEGOTIATIONS FOR 
 HER MARRIAGE. 
 
 Third Edition, with portraits. Cloth, 12s. 
 
 " A clear and verj' interesting account. An excellent book." — The Times. 
 
 "We would counsel a perusal of that very remarkable volume, 'The Courtships 
 of Queen Elizabeth,' which, besides being in the highest degree entertaining, 
 furnishes utterly new views of the spacious times of great Elizabeth."— TAc Daily 
 Tcleiirctph (Leading Article). 
 
 "A delightful book."— TAc Daily Telegraph (Review). 
 
 "Without a perusal of Mr. Hume's most researchful and interesting volume, no 
 one, no student even of Froude can claim to have thoroughly grasped the character 
 and aims of our good Queen Bess." — The Daily Chronicle. 
 
 "Mr. Hume, who is the learned editor of the Calendar of Spanish State Papers 
 issued by the Record Office, has gone to the fountain-head. A connected and 
 consistent — though assuredly a most extraordinary story. A fascinating picture." — 
 Standard (Leader). 
 
 " Mr. Hume has performed his task admirably. In his hands the story of a unique 
 series of farcical courtships becomes a luminous study in sixteenth century inter- 
 national diplomacy."— r// (J Daily JVctcs. 
 
 "A luminous and fascinating narrative. Mr. Hume's masterly and impartial 
 narrative. It is undeniably an important addition to the history' of the EIizal5ethan 
 period, and it will rank as the foremost authority on the most Interesting aspect of 
 the character of tlie Tudor Queen." — Pall Mali Gazette. 
 
 " Among the historians of the later Victorian era Mr. Hume will take high rank. 
 His contributions to our knowledge of Elizabethan times are the result of attain- 
 ments which no other writer can claim to possess. He is to be congratulated on 
 producing a work with which no student can afford to dispense if desirous of under- 
 standing the character of Elizabeth, and which no other living Englishman could 
 have produced." — The Obsdn'er. 
 
 " Mr. Hume is a serious authority with far too great a keenness for facts to be a 
 partisan. One might make dozens of pointed extracts, but the book is distinctly one 
 to be read by those who care for past manners." — Daily Courier. 
 
 " Mr. Hume tells an interesting tale with enviable clearness and felicity of 
 language. He may claim to have made a valuable addition to our knowledge of 
 one of the greatest of our national benefactors." — The Echo. 
 
 " Eminently thorough and lucid, and throws fresh light on what has long been 
 one of the most perplexing as it will ever be the most amusing chapter in the 
 English annals." — The Glasgow Herald. 
 
 "The volume is based on authentic State papers . . . explored with great pains 
 and marvellous industry." — Dublin Daily Telegraph. - 
 
 " A careful and learned piece of work.^' — Manchester Guardian. 
 
 " A serious and able work." — Spectator. 
 
 " This volume is a splendid contribution to English history." — The Binninghani 
 Gazette. 
 
 " The story is altogether a very remarkable one, and is now told for the first time 
 with fulness and accuracy. Students of English and European history during the 
 critical sixteenth centurj- period cannot afford to overlook this strikingly interesting 
 vohmie."— The Freeman. 
 
 " A very curious and important chapter in EngUsh history . . . throws a flood of 
 light on the character and methods of the Queen." — The Tablet 
 
 " Written in a charmingly clear literary style, and the solid character of its 
 contents should recommend it to serious readers." — Aberdeen Free Press. 
 
 " Extremely interesting. The author is to be congratulated on having written a 
 most entertaining record." — The Daily Graphic. 
 
 " It has the interest of a novel. This engrossing history of the various negotiations 
 for the Queen's marriage." — The Sketch. 
 
 London: T. FISHER UN'Wix, Paternoster Square. E.g. 
 
ROBERT DEVEREUX. SECOND EARL OF ESSEX. 
 (After a contemporary portrait in tlie eoUiction of tlic Earl of Vernlam.) 
 
"THE YEAR AFTER 
 THE ARMADA 
 
 s}^ :^ AND OTHER HISTORICAL STUDIES 
 BY MARTIN A. S. HUME, f.r.hist.s. 
 
 EDITOR OF THE CALENDAR OF SPANISH STATE 
 PAPERS OF ELIZABETH (pUBLIC RECORD OFFICE) 
 AUTHOR OF "the COURTSHIPS OF yUEEN ELIZABETH," ETC. 
 
 " 'There is no book so bad,' said the bachelor, ' but that some- 
 thing good may be found in it.' 'There is no doubt of that,' 
 replied Don Quixote." — Don Quixote, pt. ii. 
 
 NEW YORK : THE MACMILLAN CO. 
 
 MDCCCXCVI 
 
 s 
 
 ^. y. 
 
A-177^ 
 
 [All tights n-scn'cil.'] 
 
MY MOTHER. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Circumstances have led me to follow the course 
 of modern history into somewhat unfrequented 
 channels, and in the pursuit of my main object it 
 is occasionally my good fortune to come across a 
 piece of unused or unfamiliar contemporary infor- 
 mation — some faded manuscript or forgotten news- 
 letter — which seems to throw fresh light upon an 
 important period or an interesting personality of the 
 past. It is true that in some cases the matters 
 recounted are not of any great historical significance, 
 but even then there is generally some quaint glimpse 
 to be caught of bygone manners or events which 
 redeems the document from worthlessness. From 
 such treasure-trove as this, and from other sources 
 which have generally been overlooked or neglected 
 by English historians, the studies contained in the 
 present book have been drawn; and it is hoped that 
 some fresh knowledge as well as amusement may be 
 gained from them. 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 If the reader is only half as much interested in 
 perusing as I have been in writing them, I shall 
 consider myself very fortunate. 
 
 Some of the studies have already appeared in 
 Magazines, but the principal portion of the book 
 is now printed for the first time. 
 
 MARTIN A. S. HUME. 
 
 London, September, 1896. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 THE YEAR AFTER THE ARMADA 
 
 JULIAN ROMERO — SWASHBUCKLER 
 
 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT 
 THE EVOLUTION OF THE SPANISH ARMADA 
 
 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY 
 
 A PALACE IN THE STRAND 
 
 THE EXORCISM OF CHARLES THE BEWITCHED 
 
 A SPRIG OF THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA 
 
 THE JOURNAL OF RICHARD BERE 
 
 I 
 
 73 
 123 
 
 205 
 261 
 289 
 321 
 
 343 
 
•^i^m^i 
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 THE EARL OF ESSEX Frontispiece 
 
 (^Aftcr a contemporary portrait in the collection of tlie Earl ofVcrulam.') 
 
 PHILIP AND MARY ... To face p. 125 
 
 (After the painting by Antonio Mor.') 
 
 QUEVEDO To face p, 256 
 
 (After the portrait by Velasquez, at Apslcy House.) 
 
 CHARLES n. OF SPAIN To face p. 291 
 
 (After the portrait by Claudio Coello, at the Madrid Mnseo.) 
 
 PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN To face p. 323 
 
 {After the portrait by Velasquez, in the National Gallery.) 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
THE YEAR AFTER THE 
 ARMADA. 
 
 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589.' 
 
 On the night of Sunday, the 28th of July, 1588, the 
 great Armada was huddled, all demoralised and 
 perplexed, in Calais roads. Only a week before 
 the proudest fleet that ever rode the seas laughed 
 in derision at the puny vessels that alone stood 
 between it and victory over the heretic Queen and 
 her pirate countrymen, who for years had plundered 
 and insulted with impunity the most powerful 
 sovereign in Europe. Gilded prows and fluttering 
 pennons, great towering hulls which seemed to 
 defy destruction, the fervid approbation of all Latin 
 Christendom, and the assurance of Divine protection, 
 combined to produce in the men of the Armada 
 absolute confidence in an easy conquest. But six 
 
 ' For the sake of uniformity, throughout this narrative the 
 dates are given in the " old style," then used in England, ten 
 days earlier than the dates cited by the Spanish and Portu- 
 guese authorities. 
 
4 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 days of desultory fighting in the Channel had opened 
 their eyes to facts thitherto undreamed of. Handy 
 ships, that could sail several points closer to the 
 wind than their unwieldy galleons, could harass and 
 distress them without coming to close quarters. At 
 first they shouted that the English were afraid of 
 them, but as the sense of their own impotence 
 gradually grew upon them their spirits sank. Brave 
 they were, but, said they, of what use is bravery 
 against foes who will not fight with us hand to 
 hand in the only way we wot of? And so from 
 day to day, whilst they straggled up the Channel, 
 their boasting gave place to dismay and disorgani- 
 sation. They saw their ships were being sunk 
 and disabled one after the other, whilst the 
 English vessels were suffering little damage and 
 had safe ports of refuge behind them. Thus at 
 the end of the week they found themselves with 
 a dangerous shoally coast to leeward, in an 
 exposed roadstead surrounded by the reinforced 
 English fleet. They were ripe for panic, for their 
 commander was a fool and a craven in whom they 
 had no confidence ; and when the English fireships 
 drifted down upon them with the wind, flaring in 
 the darkness of the summer night, abject paralysing 
 terror turned the huge fleet into a hustling mob of 
 ships, in which the sole thought was that of flight. 
 From that moment the Armada was beaten. The 
 storms on the northern and Irish coasts, the cold, 
 the rotten food and putrid water, pestilence and 
 panic, added dramatic completeness to their dis- 
 comfiture ; but superior ships, commanders, and 
 seamanship had practically defeated them when 
 they slipped their cables and anchors and crowded 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 5 
 
 through the narrow sea with the English fleet to 
 windward and sandbanks on their lee. 
 
 But the Armada had represented the labour, the 
 thought, and the sacrifice of years. Every nerve 
 had been strained to render it irresistible. Spain 
 and the Indies had been squeezed to the last 
 doubloon, careful Sixtus V. had been cajoled into 
 partnership in the enterprise, and the Church 
 throughout Christendom had emptied its coffers to 
 crush heresy for once and for ever. All along the 
 coast of Ireland from the Giant's Causeway to 
 Dingle Bay the wreckage of the splendid galleons 
 was awash, and many of the best and bravest of 
 Spain's hidalgos, dead and mutilated, scattered th« 
 frowning shore ; or, alive, starved, naked, and plun- 
 dered, were slowly done to death with every circum- 
 stance of inhumanity by the Irish kerns or their 
 English conquerors. It could hardly be expected, 
 therefore, that on the receipt of the dreadful news 
 Spain should calmly resign itself to defeat. Such 
 lessons as this are only slowly and gradually brought 
 home to the heart of a nation ; and after Mendoza's 
 lying stories of victory had been contradicted, and 
 the fell truth ran through Spain as the battered, 
 plague-stricken wrecks of what was left of the 
 Armada crept into Santander, the first heart-cry 
 was for vengeance and a re-vindication of the 
 national honour. 
 
 Medina Sidonia was the scapegoat (perhaps 
 not undeservedly, though Parma should bear 
 his share of blame), and as he went in state and 
 comfort through Spain to his home in the south, 
 the very children and old women in the streets 
 jeered and spat upon him for the chicken-hearted 
 
6 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 coward who had disgraced their country in the eyes 
 of the world. Only the over-burdened recluse in 
 the Escorial was patient and resigned under the 
 blow. He had, as he thought, done his best for the 
 cause of God ; and if for some inscrutable reason 
 all his labour, his sacrifice, and his prayers were to 
 be in vain, he could only suffer dumbly and bend 
 his head to the Divine decree. One after the other 
 the provinces and municipalities came to him with 
 offers of money to repair the disaster. In November 
 the national Cortes secretly sent him word, "that 
 they would vote four or five millions of gold, their 
 sons and all they possess, so that he may chastise 
 that woman, and wipe out the stain which this year 
 has fallen on the Spanish nation." ' But the Cortes 
 and the Town Councils always tacked upon their 
 offers two conditions, born of their knowledg-e that 
 peculation and mismanagement were largely respon- 
 sible for the disaster of the Armada. " First that 
 his Majesty will act in earnest ; and secondly that 
 their own agents may have the spending of the 
 money which they shall vote, for in this way his 
 Majesty will not be so robbed and all affairs will 
 go far better." 2 But the last condition was one that 
 Philip could never brook : the secret of his failure 
 through life was that he wished to do everybody's 
 work himself and he was smothered in details. 
 Besides this there were difficulties, diplomatic and 
 others, in the way, of which the people at large 
 were unaware. The star of Henry of Navarre was 
 rising, and all France was now alive to Philip's real 
 object in the invasion of England. Philip knew 
 that in any repetition of the attempt he would prob- 
 ' Venetian Calendar of State Papers. » Ibid. 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 7 
 
 ably not have to confront England alone. So the 
 cries for vengeance grew fainter, and national feeling 
 was gradually turned purposely in other directions. 
 
 But these cries had been loud enough to reach 
 England. Exaggerated rumours of the intention 
 to renew the Armada were industriously sent from 
 all quarters by zealous spies and agents, and an 
 uneasy feeling grew that perhaps, after all, 
 England had not finished her foe ; for Elizabeth's 
 advisers had no means of exactly gauging the depth 
 of Philip's purse, and they knew the papal coffers 
 were overflowing. It is true that immediate danger 
 was over. The hasty English levies had been sent 
 home again, bragging of the prowess they would 
 have shown if the hated Spaniard had dared to land, 
 and the panic and fright had given place to perfectly 
 natural congratulations on the special protection 
 vouchsafed by the Almighty to the Virgin Queen 
 and her people. The heroics were over, and Eng- 
 land was free, for the present at all events, to don 
 its work-a-day garb again. 
 
 But the easy victory had inflamed men's minds. 
 There had been very little fighting even on the 
 fleet, and none at all on shore ; and it is not 
 pleasant to be balked of a set-to when all is ready, 
 and to turn swords to bill-hooks without once 
 fleshing them in an enemy's carcase. So the 
 idlers in England who were loath to go to 
 work again, the turbulent youngsters who were 
 burning for an excuse to have a go at somebody, 
 and the lavish gentlemen who were thirsting for 
 loot, began on their side to talk about vengeance 
 and retaliation. It mattered little to them that for 
 a long course of years England had been the 
 
8 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 aggressor, and that Philip had exhausted all diplo- 
 matic and conciliatory means, including even secret 
 murder, and the subornation of treason, in England, 
 to arrive at a peaceful modus vivendi. For thirty 
 years he had suffered, more or less patiently, 
 robbery, insult, and aggression in his own dominions 
 at the hands of Elizabeth. The commerce of his 
 country was well-nigh swept from the sea by 
 marauders sallying from English ports or flying the 
 English flag. His own towns, both in the Spanish 
 colonies and in old Spain, had been sacked and 
 burnt by English seamen without any declaration 
 of war ; and rebellion in the ancient patrimony of 
 his house had been, and was still, kept alive by 
 English money and English troops. 
 
 Englishmen, then as now, had the comfortable 
 and highly commendable faculty of believing their 
 own side always to be in the right, and they knew 
 in this particular case that it was much more 
 profitable to plunder than to be plundered, to 
 attack rather than defend. Elizabeth's caution 
 and dread of being forced into a costly national 
 war had over and over again caused her to dis- 
 countenance this tendency on the part of some 
 of her advisers, though she was ready enough 
 to share the profits when her official orders were 
 disregarded and her own responsibility evaded. 
 Only the year before the Armada she had per- 
 emptorily ordered Drake, when he was ready to 
 sail for Cadiz, not to imperil peace by molesting 
 any of the territories or subjects of his Catholic 
 Majesty. But when he came into Dartmouth, after 
 "singeing the King of Spain's beard," towing behind 
 him the great galleon San Felipe, with its 600,000 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 9 
 
 ducats in money, the Queen smiled upon him as if 
 he had never disobeyed her. But for her positive 
 orders of recall indeed, Drake on this very voyage 
 would have made the Armada impossible by 
 destroying", as he was able and ready to do, all the 
 ships preparing for it in Lisbon harbour. 
 
 Only just before the Armada, in June, 1588, the 
 idea of diverting and dividing Philip's forces by 
 attacking him in his own country, ostensibly in the 
 interest of Dom Antonio, the Portuguese pretender, 
 was broached by Lord Admiral Howard in a 
 letter to Walsingham, now in the Record Office. 
 The scheme assumed definite form soon after the 
 flight of the Armada, when, in September, Sir John 
 Norris presented to the Queen a complete plan for 
 fitting out an expedition with this object by means 
 of a joint-stock company, which might be made both 
 patriotic and profitable at the same time. Such a 
 proposal was one eminently likely to suit the Queen, 
 frugal and evasive of responsibility as she was. 
 Norris and his associates suggested that the capital 
 of the company should be ^40,000 at least, out of 
 which the Queen was to subscribe ^5,000, and to 
 appoint a treasurer, who was to supervise the ex- 
 penditure of the whole. The Queen's contribution 
 was only to be spent by permission of this treasurer, 
 and if the enterprise fell through for want of sub- 
 scribers she was to have her money returned to her 
 or the munitions of war which had been purchased 
 with it. The Queen, as was her wont, discreetly 
 hesitated about it ; and it was not until addresses 
 had been presented from Parliament begging her 
 to adopt some such action that she consented to 
 take shares in the enterprise. But her treasury was 
 
lo THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 well-nigh empty ; and willing as she was that any- 
 thing should be done to weaken her enemy, her 
 poverty and Tudor frugality forbade her from 
 undertaking to defray any very large portion of the 
 cost herself So she answered her petitioners that 
 although she would sanction the enterprise and 
 subscribe something to it, the main cost must be 
 borne by others. 
 
 The story of this ill-starred expedition is usually 
 disposed of in a few lines by English historians, 
 although its success would have completely changed 
 the status of Eno-land on the Continent. What is 
 known of it hitherto is practically confined to the 
 official documents and letters in the Record Office, 
 which have only become accessible of late years, a 
 few letters in the Bacon and Naunton Papers, and 
 a curious tract printed in Hackluyt and ascribed to 
 Captain Anthony Wingfield, minutely describing 
 and apologising for the proceedings. The account 
 was written in the same year, 1589, as the expedition 
 took place ; and the writer, whoever he was.^ 
 evidently witnessed the events he relates. His 
 
 » In a subscription reprint of sixty copies of this tract 
 published in 1881 under the editorship of the Rev. Alexander 
 Grosart, the authorship appeai-s to be ascribed, I know not 
 on what grounds, to a certain Robert Pricket, who served 
 probably as a gentleman volunteer and follower of the Earl 
 of Essex. He had seen previous service in the Netherlands, 
 and was the author of several poetical works, one being a 
 panegyric on the Earl of Essex. The tract is entitled " A 
 True Coppie of a Discourse, written by a gentleman employed 
 in the late voiage of Spaine and Portingale. Sent to his 
 particular friend and by him published for the better satis- 
 faction of all such as having been seduced by particular report 
 have entered into conceipts tending to the discredit of the 
 enterprise and Actors of the same. At London. Printed for 
 Thomas Woodcock, dwelling in Paules Churchyard, at the 
 sign of the blacke Beare 1589." 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 11 
 
 description is most graphic and interesting, and 
 presents the EngHsh view of the enterprise in its 
 best possible light, although all his explanations 
 and palliations cannot succeed in conjuring away 
 the utter failure of the expedition, or the bad 
 conduct of the men who took part in it. The 
 English account, however, all indulgendy unflattering 
 as it is, is not the only one extant. The publication 
 of the latest volume of the Calendar of Venetian 
 State Papers puts us into possession of the version 
 of the affair current in the Spanish Court and con- 
 veyed to the King from his officers in Portugal ; and 
 in addition to this I possess the transcript of an 
 unpublished contemporary manuscript which exists 
 in the library of Don Pascual de Gayangos at 
 Madrid, written by a Castilian resident in Lisbon 
 at the time of the invasion, containing a detailed 
 diary of the event. ^ This manuscript, I believe, 
 has never yet received the attention it deserves 
 from historians, but it is nevertheless valuable as 
 confirming in the main the English accounts, but 
 relating the incidents from an entirely different 
 point of view. I have also recently discovered 
 in the Pombalina Library in Lisbon still another 
 contemporary manuscript diary of the English 
 invasion, written by a Portuguese gentleman in 
 Lisbon who was present at the scenes he describes, 
 and whose standpoint is widely different from those 
 of the Castilian and the Englishman. 2 The Spaniard 
 
 ' It is called " Relacion delo subcedido del armada enemiga 
 del reyno de Inglaterra a este de Portugal 9011 la retiradaa su 
 tierra, este ano de 1589." MS. Gayangos Library. Tran- 
 script in possession of the author. 
 
 = " Memoria do successo da vinda dos Ingreses ao reino de 
 
12 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 is full of scorn and contempt for the chicken-hearted 
 Portuguese in Lisbon who, though sympathising 
 with the native pretender, slunk into hiding at 
 his approach ; whilst the Portuguese diarist insists 
 vehemently upon the loyalty of the Portuguese 
 nobles to Philip, and ascribes the instability of the 
 common people to their weakness and incredulity, 
 to their fear of the anger of Saint Antonio if they 
 opposed his namesake the pretender, to their desire 
 to protect their wives and families, to any other 
 reason but the obvious one that high and low, 
 rich and poor, in the city were in a state of 
 trembling panic, from first to last, utterly cowed 
 and appalled by the few Spaniards whom they 
 hated as much as they feared. 
 
 In 1578, ten years before the Armada, the rash 
 young King Sebastian of Portugal had disappeared 
 for ever from the ken of men on the Moorish battle- 
 field which had seen the opening and closing of his 
 mad crusade. For centuries afterwards the Portu- 
 guese peasants dreamt of his triumphant return to 
 lead to victory the hosts of Christendom. But he 
 came not, unless indeed one of the many claimants 
 who long afterwards assumed his name was indeed 
 he; and in the meanwhile, when his uncle, the child- 
 less Cardinal King Henry, died, Portugal wanted a 
 monarch. 
 
 It had a large choice of descendants of Dom 
 Manoel, grandfather of the lost Sebastian, but the 
 Magna Charta of the Portuguese, the laws of Lamego 
 (apocryphal as we now believe them to have been), 
 were then universally accepted, and strictly excluded 
 
 Portugal." Biblioteca Nacional, Lisbon. Pombalina, 196, fol. 
 271. Transcribed by the author. 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 13 
 
 foreigners from the throne ; and all the claimants 
 were aliens but two, the Duchess of Braganza, 
 daughter of the elder son of Dom Manoet and 
 doubdess the rightful heiress; and Dom Antonio, 
 a churchman, prior of Ocrato, the questionably 
 legitimate offspring of Manoel's second son. 
 
 When the Cardinal King died in 1580, Philip II., 
 who for two years had been intriguing, suborning, 
 and threatening the leading Portuguese to acknow- 
 ledge his right to the succession, stretched out his 
 hand to grasp the coveted crown. Of the two native 
 claimants one, the Duchess of Braganza, was timid 
 and unready ; the other, Dom Antonio, was ambitious, 
 bold, and eager. Around him all that was patriotic 
 grouped itself The poorer classes bitterly hated the 
 foreigner, and particularly the Spaniard, whose King 
 was really the only other serious claimant to the 
 throne. The churchmen were devotedly attached 
 to the ecclesiastical claimant, the nobles were 
 Portuguese before all, and Antonio was acclaimed 
 the national sovereign. But not for long ; the terrible 
 Alba swept down upon Lisbon, as years before he 
 had come down upon the Netherlands, and crushed 
 the life out of Portuguese patriotism. There was 
 no religious question to stiffen men's backs, and no 
 William of Orange to command them here. The 
 Portuguese were made of different stuff from the 
 stubborn Dutchmen, and Alba rode roughshod 
 over them with but little resistance. Antonio was 
 soon a fugitive, hunted from town to town, holding 
 out for weeks in one fortress, only to be starved into 
 another ; proclaimed a bastard and a rebel, with a 
 great price set upon his head ; and yet for eight 
 long months he wandered amongst the mountain 
 
14 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 peasantry, as safe from betrayal as was Charles 
 Edward amongst the Scots Highlanders. At last 
 Antonio gave up the game and fled to France, 
 and thence to England. He came in July, 1581, 
 and was immediately made much of by the Queen 
 and Leicester. In vain did Mendoza, Philip's 
 ambassador, demand his surrender as a rebel. 
 The Queen said she had not quite made up her 
 mind to help him, but she had quite decided that 
 she would not surrender him to be killed. He was 
 too valuable a card in her hand for her to let him go, 
 and she made the most of him. He was treated with 
 royal honours, and covert aid was given to him to 
 strengthen the Azores, which were faithful to him. 
 He had taken the precaution to bring away the crown 
 jewels of Portugal with him, the spoils of the two 
 Indies, but he had no money. The greedy crew that 
 surrounded the Queen soon scented plunder, and 
 money for warlike preparations, the purchase of 
 ships, and the like, was speedily forthcoming on 
 security of diamonds and pearls such as had rarely 
 been seen in England. Elizabeth and Leicester, in 
 presents and by a quibble, managed to grab some of 
 the best ; and most of those pledged to the London 
 merchants ultimately fell into the Queen's hands.' 
 
 I Mendoza, writing to Philip from London, August 8, 1582, 
 gives one instance of this amongst several. He says : "The 
 Queen lent Dom Antonio ;^3,ooo when he was here, and I 
 understand she peremptorily demands payment of the sum, 
 taking possession of the diamond which was pledged here for 
 a sum of ^5,000 lent by merchants, who offer to rehnquish 
 their claim to the Queen, if she will lend them ;^"30,ooo free of 
 interest for six years out of the bars brought by Drake, which 
 they will repay in five yearly instalments of ;^6,ooo each. So 
 far as I can learn, this talk of the loan is a mere fiction and a 
 cloak under which the Queen may keep the diamond for the 
 ;^8,ooo on the ground that the merchants advanced the ^5,000 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 15 
 
 Some were left with Walsingham for safety, but 
 when they were demanded Walsingham alleged 
 that he was personally responsible for some pro- 
 visions Antonio had ordered, and made difficulties 
 about giving them up. So long as the money lasted 
 Antonio might spend it in England and leave his 
 diamonds, but some specious excuse was always 
 invented to prevent any openly hostile expedition 
 to attack Philip leaving an English port under 
 Antonio's banner. The rascally Dr. Lopez, who 
 was afterwards hanged at Tyburn for attempting 
 to poison the Queen, was Dom Antonio's go- 
 between and interpreter at Court, and he, greedy 
 scamp as he was, made a good thing out of it 
 until the money began to run short, when, in his 
 usual way, he sold his knowledge to Philip, and 
 attempted more than once to poison the unhappy 
 Pretender. Antonio, indeed, was surrounded by 
 spies though he knew it not,i but he found he 
 was being frustrated, betrayed, and defrauded in 
 every way in England, and his precious jewels 
 the meanwhile were slipping away. So, in dudgeon 
 with the greedy English, he fled to France and took 
 
 by her express order, without which they would not have done 
 so. This plan was invented by Cecil in order to prevent Dom 
 Antonio from getting his diamond back again." 
 
 This diamond is probably identical with the celebrated 
 stone given by Charles I. when Prince of Wales to the 
 Count-Duke of Olivares, favourite of Philip IV., when 
 Charles and Buckingham went on their foolish visit to 
 Madrid. A contemporary account (Soto's MS. in the 
 Academy of History, Madrid) describes the diamond as 
 being of the purest water, weighing eight carats and called 
 " the Portuguese," from its having been one of the crown 
 jewels of Portugal. It had a great pearl pendent from it. 
 
 ' See Calendar of Spanish State Papers of Elizabeth, vol. 3, 
 for particulars of them. 
 
i6 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 such of his vessels as he could gain possession of 
 with him. Catharine de Medici, the Queen-mother, 
 was, for form's sake, a claimant to the Portuguese 
 throne herself, but her shadowy claim was soon 
 abandoned when she had an opportunity of cherish- 
 ing such a thorn as Antonio promised to be in the 
 side of her powerful late son-in-law Philip. Antonio 
 still had jewels, and whilst they lasted he was treated 
 with consideration and regal splendour in that gay 
 and dissolute Court. He certainly got more return 
 for them there than he got in England. Many were 
 scattered in bribes amongst the easy-going ladies and 
 painted mignons of the Court, and most of the rest 
 went to pay for two costly naval expeditions fitted 
 out in France in the Queen-mother's name, to enable 
 Antonio to hold the islands faithful to him.' But 
 Santa Cruz swooped down upon Terceira as Alba 
 had pounced upon Lisbon, and the merry-making 
 crew of revellers was soon disposed of. Then 
 poor Antonio fell upon evil days. The emissaries 
 of Philip, false friends of Antonio, tried time after 
 time to put him out of the way by poison and the 
 dagger, but he was ever on the watch ; and for help 
 and safety, still sanguine and hopeful, drifted from 
 France to England and from England to France, 
 
 ' The first of these, in 1582, commanded by Strozzi, con- 
 sisted of 55 ships and 5,000 men. Terceira, which was held 
 for Dom Antonio, welcomed it at once, and in the midst of 
 the rejoicings to celebrate the event the Spanish fleet mider 
 Santa Cruz appeared and scattered the French like chaff, 
 Strozzi being killed, Antonio barely escaping, and the fleet 
 almost entirely destroyed. The second expedition in the 
 following year under Aymar de Chastes with 6,000 men was, 
 curiously enough, beaten by Santa Cruz in the same place and 
 under exactly similar circumstances (" Un pretendant portu- 
 gais du xvi. siecle "). 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 17 
 
 the plaything in the game alternately of Elizabeth 
 and Catharine, to be taken up or cast aside as 
 the interests of the players dictated. 
 
 Philip's open attempt to invade England in 1588, 
 seemed once more to offer him a chance of success, 
 and his hopes rose again. One gem, and one only, 
 of all the rich store he brought from Portugal was 
 left to him ; but that was the most precious of them 
 all, the eighth greatest diamond in the world, the 
 chief ornament in the Russian imperial crown to- 
 day.' It was his last stake, and he decided to risk 
 it on his chance. It was pledged to Monsieur de 
 Sancy, whose name it ever afterwards bore, and 
 with the money so raised Antonio started for 
 England to tempt Elizabeth to link his desperate 
 cause with her hopes of revenge upon Spain. 
 
 This was in the autumn of the Armada year, 1588, 
 and, all unconscious of his vile treachery to him, 
 Antonio once more evoked Lopez's influence at 
 Court to gain the ear of the Queen and the support 
 of his close friend Walsingham. The venal Jew, 
 who was for ever craving rewards and favours, 
 persuaded the Queen, no doubt for a weighty 
 consideration, to listen anew to the pretender's 
 proposals. 2 
 
 ' It is a curious co-incidence that this gem was long after- 
 wards carried away from England by another fugitive King, 
 James II., who sold it, as Antonio had done, to provide for 
 his needs. It had formerly belonged to Charles the Bold of 
 Burgundy, the great-grandfather of Philip II. 
 
 ^^ After the return of the expedition Lopez writes (July 12, 
 1589) to Walsingham, deeply regretting that the Queen had 
 been induced by his advice to spend so much money to no 
 purpose, and hinting that he had intimated to Dom Antonio 
 that he and his Portuguese were not wanted in England. On 
 the same day he himself craves for help in his need and again 
 asks for a thirty years' monopoly of the import of aniseed and 
 
 3 
 
i8 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 The adventurer-king was confident that if he 
 could once set foot again in his own country with 
 an armed force the whole population would flock to 
 his standard, and he was ready to promise anything, 
 and everything, for the help he wanted. Already 
 in 1582, when Catharine de Medici had aided him 
 to fit out the fleet under Strozzi at Bordeaux which 
 was to hold Terceira and restore Antonio to the 
 throne, the desperate gamester had promised her 
 the great empire of Brazil as a reward for her help ; 
 and now, if my Spanish diarist is to be believed, he 
 offered to make himself a mere vassal of Elizabeth 
 if he were successful. 
 
 In the Record Office there is a bond by which 
 Antonio undertakes, in February, 1589, to re- 
 imburse to the adventurers all the cost of the 
 enterprise and the pay of the soldiers, but the 
 Spanish manuscript gives the substance of an agree- 
 ment between Dom Antonio and the Queen which 
 promises much more than mere repayment. The 
 diarist I quote says : — 
 
 " The Queen, cautious and astute as she was, 
 caught at the fine promises that Dom Antonio held 
 out and insisted that an agreement should be 
 entered into ; which was done, in substance as set 
 forth in the following clauses. This agreement was 
 brought, written in the English language, by a 
 certain Portuguese named Diego Rodriguez who 
 
 sumach into England. He was executed in 1592, and was 
 in high favour ahnost up to the day of his arrest. In the 
 Mendoza Papers in the National Archives in Paris, to which I 
 have had access, are documents proving that he made a 
 regular trade of poisoning — or attempting to poison, as he 
 does not seem to have been very successful in the cases 
 recorded. 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 19 
 
 came hither as treasurer to this expedition and 
 passed over to the service of our lord the King on 
 the eleventh of June. The clauses, translated into 
 Castilian, say as follows : — 
 
 " First her Majesty the Queen of England under- 
 takes to provide a fleet of one hundred and twenty 
 vessels and twenty thousand men — 15,000 soldiers 
 and 5,000 sailors — with captains for both services, 
 to go and restore Dom Antonio to the throne of 
 Portugal. 
 
 " Dom Antonio undertakes that within eight days 
 from the arrival of the said fleet in Portugfal the 
 whole country will submit to him in accordance with 
 the letters he has received from the principal people 
 in the said kingdom. 
 
 " Item, That on arriving in Lisbon the city will 
 be reduced at once without any defence and all 
 Castilians in it killed and destroyed, and, for the 
 friendship and aid thus shown him in recovering his 
 kingdom, he undertakes to fulfil the following things 
 — namely : — 
 
 " First that within two months of his arrival in 
 Lisbon he will hand to her Majesty the Queen as 
 an aid to the costs of the fleet five millions in gold. 
 
 " Item, In testimony of the help she has given 
 him he will pay every year to the Queen for ever 
 three hundred thousand ducats in gold, placed and 
 paid in London at his cost. 
 
 " Item, that the English should have full liberty 
 to trade and travel in Portugal and the Portuguese 
 Indies and the Portuguese equal freedom in Eng- 
 land. 
 
 " Item, That if the Queen should not desire to fit 
 out a fleet against the King of Spain in England 
 
20 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 she shall be at liberty to do so in Lisbon and shall 
 be helped in all that may be necessary. 
 
 " Item, That the castles of Sao Gian, Torre de 
 Belem, Capariza, Oton, Sao Felipe, Oporto, 
 Coimbra and the other Portuguese fortresses shall 
 be perpetually occupied by English soldiers paid at 
 the cost of Dom Antonio. 
 
 " Item, That there shall be perpetual peace 
 between her Majesty the Queen and Dom Antonio 
 and they shall mutually help each other on all 
 occasions without excuse of any sort. 
 
 " Item, That all the Bishoprics and Archbishoprics 
 in Portugal shall be filled by English Catholics and 
 the Archbishopric of Lisbon shall be at once filled 
 by the appointment of Monsieur de la Torques 
 
 " Item, On arriving at Lisbon every infantry man 
 shall receive twelve months pay, and three extra, as 
 a present from Dom Antonio and they shall be 
 allowed to sack the city for twelve days, on condition 
 that no man of any rank shall presume to harm any 
 Portuguese or molest the churches or houses 
 wherein maidens are dwelling ; and also that they 
 pay in money for whatever they may need in the 
 country. Which agreement her Majesty ordered to 
 be duly executed under date of last day of Decem- 
 ber 1588."! 
 
 The Spanish scribe waxes very indignant at this 
 document, showing, as he says it does, the sagacity of 
 the Queen and the blind infatuation of Dom Antonio, 
 
 ' It is certain from letters of Dom Antonio's friends in 
 London, now in the Archives Nationales (K 1567), that it was 
 not until the end of December that Antonio was coniident 
 that the fleet was really intended to aid him. 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 21 
 
 " who gives up the substance for the shadow of king- 
 ship, and is content to make the Portuguese subjects 
 slaves so that he shall be called King." But he is 
 most shocked at the sacrifice to this "pestilent sect" 
 of the two instincts dearest to the Portuguese heart, 
 namely, devotion to their Church and their greed of 
 gain ; the first of which, he says, will be destroyed 
 by relationship with the accursed heretics, and the 
 second attacked by the substitution for " our lord 
 the king who does not spend a maravedi of Portu- 
 guese money, but brings Castilian money into 
 Portugal," of a King who has promised to pay 
 away more than the Portuguese can ever give him. 
 " And besides," he says, plaintively, "we Castilians 
 and Portuguese are not so estranged in blood of 
 boundaries after all, for only a line divides us, and 
 if it be hard for the Portuguese to endure connec- 
 tion with their Castilian kinsmen who bring riches 
 into the country and take nothing from it how much 
 worse will it be to put up with a nation so greedy 
 and insolent as the English, separated from them 
 by land and sea, and foreign to them in customs, 
 language, faith and laws ? " 
 
 He ridicules the idea of five millions (of ducats) 
 in gold being paid, and says he supposes that a mis- 
 take of a nought has been made, which probably 
 was the case ; but even then, he asks, where is 
 such a sum as 500,000 ducats to come from, "let 
 alone the 15 months' pay"? However correct or 
 otherwise in detail this agreement may be, it is 
 certain that some such terms were made, and it may 
 be safely assumed that Elizabeth, with her keen eye 
 to the main chance, would take care to make the 
 best bargain she could out of the sanguine eagerness 
 
22 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 of Dom Antonio, who would be ready to promise 
 " mounts and marvels " for ready aid.' My Portu- 
 guese diarist also ridicules the impossible terms 
 promised by the Pretender, but adds the false finish- 
 ing-touch, evidently spread by the Castilians for the 
 purpose of arousing the indignation and resistance 
 of the Portuguese, that the churches were to be 
 plundered and the Portuguese inhabitants of Lisbon 
 despoiled. 
 
 It would appear strange at first sight that Eliza- 
 beth should have made any proviso for the benefit 
 of English Catholics whom she had sometimes 
 treated so unmercifully, but on other occasions she 
 had favoured the idea of English Catholic settle- 
 ments being established across the seas under her 
 sway ; and the great body of Catholic sympathisers 
 resident in England had not acted altogether un- 
 patriotically in the hour of panic and terror on the 
 threat of invasion. It would, therefore, not have 
 been an impolitic move to earn their gratitude 
 and further loyalty by opening a new field for them 
 outside of her own country but, in a manner, under 
 her control. 
 
 On the 23rd of February, 1589,2 the Queen issued 
 a warrant of her instructions for the expedition, ap- 
 
 ' There is a rough memorandum in Burleigh's writing, 
 September jo, 1588, in the Record Office, setting down the 
 details of the proposed expedition, in which he mentions that 
 four thousand men are to be sent for from Holland, as well 
 as two thousand horsemen volunteers. At the foot of the 
 memorandum Burleigh sets down the "Articles of offers 
 from King Antonio. 
 
 " I. To attempt to burn ye shippes in Lysbon and Civill." 
 
 " 2. To tak Lvsbon." 
 
 " 3. To tak the Hands," 
 
 '' Calendar of State Pajicrs (Domestic). Record Office. 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 23 
 
 pointing Sir John Norris ' and Sir Francis Drake to 
 the chief command thereof, and in it lays down pre- 
 cise rules for their guidance. She says that the 
 objects of the expedition are two :• namely, first to 
 distress the King of Spain's ships, and second to get 
 possession of some of the Azores, in order to inter- 
 cept treasure passing to and from the East and 
 West Indies. Also to assist the King Dom 
 Antonio to recover the kingdom of Portugal, 
 ' ' if it shall be found the public voice in the king- 
 dom be favoiirable to him." 
 
 On the same date authority was given to Norris 
 and Drake to issue warrants to the adventurers for 
 their shares in the enterprise ; and the Queen her- 
 self undertook to repay them if the expedition were 
 stopped at her instance. Courtiers and swash- 
 bucklers touted their hardest for subscriptions to 
 this joint-stock warfare, and pressure was put upon 
 country gentlemen to subscribe liberally as a proof 
 of their patriotism — a pressure not to be disregarded 
 in those doubtful times. ^ The Queen's subscription 
 ultimately reached ^20,000, besides seven ships of 
 the Royal Navy. Promises of money and arms 
 were forthcoming in abundance, and flocks of idlers, 
 high and low, offered their valuable services. The 
 scum of the towns, the sweepings of the jails, were 
 pressed for the voyage, and Pricket (or Wingfield), 
 
 ' Norris had greatly distinguished himself in Ireland and 
 the Netherlands, notwithstanding Leicester's persistent 
 attempts to ruin him ; and, from his conduct there and 
 during this expedition, he would appear to have been brave, 
 but turbulent and of doubtful discretion. 
 
 2 Philip was informed late in December by his spies in 
 England that Drake was to contribute 13,000 crowns, the 
 Earl of Essex 10,000, Norris 8,000, and London Merchants 
 24,000, and that the Queen had advanced ^^20,000. 
 
24 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 in his apology for the expedition, lays most of the 
 blame of failure on the kind of men they had, and 
 complains bitterly of the justices and mayors send- 
 ing them " base disordered persons sent unto us as 
 living at home without rule." He says many idle 
 young men, having seen their fellows come back 
 after a few months in the Netherlands full of their 
 brave deeds and tales of the wars, " thought to 
 follow so good an example and to spend like time 
 amongst us," and finding soldiering a harder trade 
 than they had bargained for, were not likely to 
 make good troops. 
 
 The misfortunes of the enterprise began before it 
 was fairly launched. As may be supposed, promises 
 of support, given under such circumstances as those 
 which I have described, were hardly likely to be 
 strictly kept, and the performance in this case fell 
 far short. Pricket (or Wingfield) bemoans this as 
 follows : " For hath not the want of 8 out of the 1 2 
 pieces of Artillerie which was promised unto the 
 adventure lost her Majestic the possession of the 
 Groyne and many other places as hereafter shall 
 appeare whose defensible rampiers were greater 
 than our batterie (such as it was) could force and 
 therefore were lost unattempted. It was also re- 
 solved to send 600 English horse out of the Low 
 Countries whereof we had not one, notwithstanding 
 the great charge expended in their transportation 
 hither. . . . Did wee not want seaven of the thir- 
 teene old Companies we should have had from 
 thence ? foure of the ten Dutch Companies and 
 sixe of their men-of-warre for the sea from the 
 Hollanders ? which I may justly say we wanted in 
 that we might have had so many good souldiers, 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 25 
 
 so many good shippes, and so many able bodies 
 more than we had. 
 
 " Did there not, upon the first thinking of the 
 journey, divers gallant courtiers put in their names 
 for adventurers to the summe of ^10,000, who seeing 
 it went not forward in good earnest, advised them- 
 selves better and laid the want of so much money 
 on the journey ? " 
 
 But the expedition was got together somehow. 
 Men were cajoled into the belief that they were 
 going on a great plundering excursion, and would 
 soon return home again loaded, as Wingfield says, 
 with " Portogues " and " Milrayes " which should 
 make them independent for life. There were no 
 surgeons, no carriages for the hurt and sick, and 
 from the first the discipline was of the loosest. 
 Provisions were said to be shipped for two months, 
 but in some of the ships the men declared they were 
 starved from the first day. 
 
 Even amongst contemporaries much difference of 
 statement exists as to the number of ships and men 
 that composed the expedition, although this differ- 
 ence is partly accounted for by a fact which will 
 presently be mentioned, and which has hitherto 
 escaped notice. We should probably not be far out 
 when we put the number of soldiers who left Ply- 
 mouth at about 16,000 and the sailors at 2,500.' 
 
 ' On the eve of departure Norris and Drake officially told 
 the Council that the total number of all sorts was 23,375. 
 Captain Fenner, Drake's vice-admiral, gives the number as 
 21,000 (Bacon Papers). Captain Baillie, of the Mary German, 
 in a letter to Lord Shrewsbury says the landsmen alone were 
 20,000 ; whilst Drake himself, in one of his many letters begging 
 for supplies, says, " 20,000 men cannot be kept for a trifle." 
 
 Camden, the historian, speaks of 12,500 soldiers, and Speed, 
 following Pricket's tract, puts the number of landsmen at 
 
26 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 Of the men-at-arms all but the three or four thousand 
 old soldiers, mostly from the Netherland wars, were 
 idle vagabonds whose first idea was loot and 
 whose last was fighting. In addition to these there 
 were 1,200 gentlemen or more, the flotsam and 
 jetsam of the Court, younger sons of slender for- 
 tunes, and gallants whose hearts were aflame to do 
 good service to their country. Seven ' of the 
 bravest of the Queen's ships, of three hundred tons 
 burden each, twenty other armed ships, and a large 
 number of transports and galleys of light draft, 
 would have completed the fleet, but sixty German 
 smacks and sloops, which had been wintering in 
 Holland on their way to Spain, were pressed into 
 the service and added to the number, which finally 
 reached nearly two hundred sail. The ist of 
 February was the date originally fixed for starting, 
 but when that date arrived nothing was ready but 
 the army of idlers, who wanted feeding, so that 
 when the fleet could have sailed it was found that 
 most of the stores had been consumed, and in some 
 ships not a week's provision remained. Money ran 
 short, and Drake and N orris wrote, day after day, 
 
 11,000 and mariners at 2,500. There is a letter in the 
 British Museum from one of the Portuguese nobles (Count 
 de Portalegre) to Philip II., in which the army before Lisbon 
 is spoken of as 12,000 men ; and the Spanish diarist whose 
 MS. I have mentioned says 16,000 men-at-arms left England 
 and very few sailors. The terrible mortality from sickness, 
 &c., and the comparatively small number that came back 
 made EngHsh writers of the time anxious to minimise the 
 disaster by underrating the numbers of the expedition. 
 
 ' English accounts usually say six, but I am incHned to 
 believe the Spanish account is correct, as Drake writes to the 
 Council (Record Office, Domestic Calendar), after the six 
 ships had been appointed, asking for a larger vessel, the 
 Victory, " in respect of the King Dom Antonio." 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 27 
 
 during all the month of March and first two weeks 
 in April, heartrending letters to the Council and to 
 Walsingham. The provisions were run out, they 
 said ; the enterprise must fall through if help be not 
 sent at once. They point out the dishonour and 
 disgrace of such a lame ending, and again and 
 again beg for more provisions. 
 
 The innkeepers and victuallers of Canterbury, 
 Southampton, Winchester, Plymouth, and else- 
 where wrote dunning letters to the Queen for money 
 due for stores supplied. The Dutch shipmasters 
 commanding the flyboat transports contributed by 
 the States formally protested and refused to put to 
 sea with such insufficient provender as they had ; 
 and, just as it looked as if the expedition would 
 break down for good, there came providentially 
 into the harbour a Flemish ship with a cargo of 
 dried herrings, another with five hundred pipes 
 of wine, and above all a sloop loaded with barley. 
 These provisions were promptly transferred to 
 the fleet to the dismay of the masters, who pro- 
 tested for many a day afterwards, fruitlessly, against 
 the confiscation of their cargoes. The expedition 
 was declared ready for sea, but then came tales 
 of contrary winds that kept them in and out 
 of harbour for several days more ; and one day, 
 whilst they were thus detained, the Queen's kins- 
 man, Knollys, comes post haste from London. Had 
 anybody seen or heard anything of the young Earl 
 of Essex, the Queen's last new pet ? Curiously 
 enough nobody had, although only the day before a 
 party of young gallants had dashed into Plymouth 
 from London all dusty and travel-stained, and had 
 been received with open arms by the courtiers and 
 
28 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 officers on the fleet. Hot-blooded Essex, with all 
 the thoughtlessness of his twenty-two years, tired of 
 sickly dallying with an old lady and of squabbling 
 with Raleigh, tired of his debts, his duns and duties 
 as prime favourite, had made up his mind to see 
 some fun, and had fled against the Queen's orders. 
 No one had seen him of course, but the Swiftsure, 
 with Sir Roger Williams, the general second in 
 command of the army, mysteriously left the har- 
 bour as soon as Knollys had told his tale. But 
 a few hours later the Earl of Huntingdon came 
 with warrants of arrest and all manner of peremp- 
 tory papers, and Drake saw the matter was serious. 
 Boats were sent scouring after the Swiftstire, but 
 could get no news of the missing earl. The other 
 ships stayed in Plymouth ten days longer for a fair 
 wind, but the Swiftsure came back no more until the 
 expedition was at an end. Drake and Norris wrote 
 nearly every day until they sailed disclaiming any 
 knowledge of Essex or his intention to join the 
 force, and expressing their deep sorrow ; but the 
 Queen did not believe them, and from that time 
 had nothing but hard words and sour looks for an 
 adventure that had robbed her of her favourite. 
 At length, on the 13th of April 1589, (O.S.), the 
 expedition finally left Plymouth, but even then it 
 was only a feint in order that the men might be 
 kept together and not stray on shore and get out 
 of hand. " The crosse windes held us two dales 
 after our going out, the Generalls being wearie 
 thrust to sea in the same wisely chosing rather to 
 attend a change out there than to lose it when it 
 came by having their men on shoare." 
 
 Knocking about in the Channel in bad weather 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 29 
 
 was, however, not to the taste of some of the 
 ruffians who thought they were bound over summer 
 seas to a paradise of plunder ; and three thousand 
 men in twenty-five ships, probably most of them 
 owned by the recalcitrant Dutchmen, deserted and 
 were heard of no more — at least so far as the expe- 
 dition was concerned. This desertion to some 
 extent explains the divergence between the accounts 
 given of the numbers of the expedition. 
 
 The rest of the fleet on the third day caught a 
 fair wind and stretched across the Bay of Biscay in 
 fine spring weather. They were four days before 
 their eyes were gladdened by the sight of Cape 
 Finisterra, but in the week they had been at sea 
 their provisions were running out. Murmurs at the 
 short commons were heard on all the ships, and it 
 was seen that the only way to keep the scratch 
 crews from open mutiny was to give them a chance 
 of plunder. 
 
 So, instead of obeying the Queen's strict injunc- 
 tions — for Drake was a far better hand at command- 
 ing than obeying — and landing poor Dom Antonio 
 on the country he assured them was yearning for 
 him, they bore down upon Corunna, on the north- 
 west coast of Spain. For months before this, as the 
 difficulties attending the fitting out of a new 
 Armada became more evident, terror-stricken 
 rumours had pervaded Spain that the dreaded 
 Drake, who had now become a sort of supernatural 
 bogey to the Spanish people, was about to descend 
 upon this or the other place on the coast and wreak 
 a terrible vengeance for the Armada. Early in 
 January even false news came to Madrid that an 
 English fleet had appeared outside Santander, and 
 
30 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 at the end of the month the Venetian ambassador 
 in Madrid writes to his Doge that news had just 
 arrived from Lisbon that forty sail of English ships 
 were out, divided into squadrons of eight or ten 
 ships each, and were doing much damage. It was 
 feared, he said, that they would all unite under 
 Drake and make an attempt first upon Portugal 
 and then will go to the Azores, and finally to the 
 Indies. The fitting out in Spain of fifty ships to 
 protect the seas was hurried on ; but, says the 
 Venetian, "it is thought that two months must 
 elapse before they can be ready, and then one 
 does not see what they can do against such light 
 ships as the enemy's." 
 
 Philip was dangerously ill and sick at heart. Fear 
 reigned supreme in his councils — fear that Drake 
 the terrible would ravage the coasts whilst Henry 
 of Navarre crossed the Pyrenees. The Portuguese 
 nobles were known to be disaffected, and a rising in 
 favour of Dom Antonio was feared. Philip, with 
 the energy of despair, did what he could, ill as he 
 was, immersed in mountains of papers dealing with 
 trivial detail. But he could do little. The Portuo-uese 
 nobles who were at all doubtful were ordered to come 
 to Madrid, the Spanish grandees were enjoined to 
 raise and arm their followers and hold themselves in 
 readiness to march either towards the Pyrenees or to 
 Lisbon. Then rumours came that the Moorish Kincr 
 
 o 
 
 of Fez was to act in concert with the English, and 
 seize the Spanish possessions on the African coast 
 opposite Gibraltar. 
 
 It will thus be seen in the distracted condition 
 of affairs that Spain was practically defenceless 
 against a sudden descent on the coast, but most 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 31 
 
 defenceless of all at the extremely remote north- 
 west corner of Spain, where Drake decided to land. 
 The fear was mostly for Portugal, where, we are 
 told, " the population is so impatient of the present 
 rule that neither the severity of penalties or garri- 
 sons of soldiers, nor the ability of o-overnors have 
 succeeded in quieting the contumacious spirits. This 
 causes a dread lest Drake who is acquainted with 
 those waters may furnish pretexts for fresh risings 
 and they (the Spaniards) wish to be ready to crush 
 them." I The troops they raised, says the Venetian 
 ambassador, were inferior in quality of horses and 
 men : raw levies pressed unwillingly into the service, 
 whilst Portugal was in violent and open commotion 
 awaiting the arrival of Drake the deliverer. 
 
 But whilst all panic-stricken regards were directed 
 upon Portugal, Drake and his joint-stock Armada sud- 
 denly appeared where they were least expected, be- 
 fore Corunna, and cast anchor ; and the men, nothing 
 loath, were put on shore in a little bay within a mile 
 of the town. There was no one to stay their land- 
 ing, and they had come nearly to the gates before 
 a hasty muster of townsfolk met them. These, all 
 unprepared and surprised as they were, soon re- 
 treated when they saw the force that was coming 
 against them, and shut themselves up behind the 
 gates and walls of the town. The place was weak 
 and ill-garrisoned, commanded by the Marquis de 
 Cerralba, and could not hope to hold out against a 
 regular siege, but there were three galleons loaded 
 with arms in the harbour, which the new com- 
 mander-in-chief in Madrid, Alba's son Fernando, 
 said would be a much greater loss than the town 
 ' Venetian Calendar. 
 
32 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 itself. The English slept the first night in the 
 cottages and mills belonging to a hamlet on the 
 bank of one of the small streams discharging into 
 the bay, and out of gunshot of the walls. They 
 were, however, quite unmolested by the terrified 
 townsfolk, although the galleon San Juan and her 
 consorts in the harbour kept up a fire upon them 
 as they passed to and fro. 
 
 The place indeed was utterly taken by surprise. 
 The Cortes of Galicia were in session at the time, 
 the people peacefully pursuing their ordinary avoca- 
 tions ; the soldiers of the garrison were nearly all on 
 furlough, scattered over the province ; " and, in 
 short, every one was so far from expecting an attack 
 that they had no time to turn the useless out of the 
 town nor put their dearest possessions in safety." 
 The wife and daughter, indeed, of the Governor 
 Cerralba at the first alarm fled in their terror two 
 leagues on foot, through the night, to a place of 
 safety, but after that none dared to move. The 
 lower part of the town fronting the harbour was 
 protected on the land side only by weak walls, and 
 was unfit for protracted defence. The townspeople 
 therefore agreed that if the place were attacked on 
 the water side it would be untenable, and arranged 
 that as soon as those in the higher town on the hill 
 should espy the English boats approaching they 
 were to signal the low town by a fire, so that the 
 people below might make their escape to the better 
 defensible upper portion of the town. Some artillery 
 was landed by the English to stop the fire of the 
 Spanish ships, and on the morning of the second day 
 the town was attacked simultaneously by i , 200 men in 
 long boats and pinnaces under Captain Fenner and 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 33 
 
 Colonel Huntly; and by Colonels Brett and Umpton 
 on one side, and Captains Richard Wingfield and 
 Sampson on the other by escalade. The people in 
 the upper town, either from panic or oversight, 
 neglected to give the signal, and those below, think- 
 ing they had only to deal with an escalade on their 
 walls by Captain Wingfield, fought desperately until 
 they found two other forces had entered at other 
 points, and then panic seized them, and, as Pricket 
 (or Wingfield) describes it, " The towne was entered 
 in three severall places ; with an huge crie, the 
 inhabitants betooke them to the high towne which 
 they might with less perrill doo for that ours being 
 strangers knew not the way to cut them off The 
 rest that were not put to the sword in furie fled to 
 the rockes in the iland and hid themselves in 
 chambers and sellers which were everie day found 
 out in great numbers." A perfect saturnalia seems 
 to have been thereupon indulged in by the English 
 troops. Here was the fruition of all their golden 
 dreams — a flying, panic-stricken foe, ample pro- 
 visions to loot and to waste, and, above all, wine 
 without limit. "Some others {i.e., Spaniards) also 
 found favour to bee taken prisoners but the rest 
 falling into the hands of the common soldiers had 
 their throates cut to the number of 500. . . . Everie 
 seller was found full of wine whereupon our men by 
 inordinate drinking both grewe senseless of the 
 danger of the shot of the towne which hurt many 
 of them, being druncke, and took the first ground 
 of their sickness, for of such was our first and 
 chiefest mortalitie." 
 
 Great stores of provisions were found in the lower 
 town, and many were also captured as they were 
 
 4 
 
34 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 brought in by Spanish ships. These provisions 
 were alleged by the English to have been collected 
 for the purpose of a new attack on England, and it 
 is quite probable that such was the case, although 
 the evidence on the point is insufficient. At all 
 events, the destruction of these stores is the only act 
 which in any sense justified the expedition sent out 
 by the adventurers. ^ 
 
 The next few days were spent by the invaders 
 in desultory attacks on the upper town, burning 
 a monastery and scouring the country round by 
 Colonel Huntly, who " brought home verie great 
 store of cowes and sheep to our great reliefe." A 
 great crowd of country people, two thousand strong, 
 came down with a run one day, armed with rough 
 weapons, to see what manner of men were these who 
 raided their cattle and burned their poor huts, but a 
 discharge of musketry killed eighteen of them and 
 sent the rest scampering away. 2 On " our side " we 
 hear of an improvised gabion battery being shaken 
 down by the first fire, and Master Spenser, the 
 lieutenant of the ordnance, and many others killed 
 by the enemy's guns as they stood all exposed. But 
 brave Sir Edward N orris held his ground manfully 
 
 ' The Venetian ambassador at Madrid, in his account to the 
 Doge of the events at Corunna, says that Drake's booty from 
 that place consisted of " 6,000 salted oxen, fifteen thousand 
 jars of biscuit, 6,000 barrels of powder and 3,000 hogsheads 
 of wine ; all of it provision for the Armada which went so un- 
 successfully last year, or else to furnish a new Armada accord- 
 ing to the design which they entertain. This plunder will 
 prove of the greatest service to the English . . . and here the 
 news has caused much chagrin ; and it is hidden or minimised 
 as much as possible." 
 
 " It was said in Madrid that these two thousand peasants had 
 only six muskets amongst them. — Venetian Calendar of Stale 
 Papers. 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 35 
 
 until his orders came to cease firing and retire. 
 Captain Goodwin makes a mistake of a signal and 
 prematurely attacks the upper town, getting shot 
 through the mouth as a reward, and the "common 
 sort " drop off by drink, pestilence, and bullet plen- 
 tifully enough, but unrecorded. Norris and Drake 
 sent home by Knollys flaming accounts of their 
 success, and still asked for more provisions from 
 England and more money ; but Queen Bess was in 
 a towering rage, and was not to be appeased. She 
 could not forget or forgive the loss of her favourite. 
 Raleigh and Blount were very well in their way, but 
 she wanted Essex, and suspected Drake and Norris 
 of being parties to his escape. On the 4th of May 
 (O.S.) she wrote to them a remarkable letter, show- 
 ing that she had tidings of Essex's being on board 
 the Swiftsure, and demanding dire vengeance on 
 Sir Roger Williams, who helped to hide him.' 
 
 ' " She dowteth not but they have thoroughly weighed the 
 heinousness of the offence lately committed by Sir Roger 
 Williams in forsaking the army with one of her principal 
 ships. If they have not already inflicted punishment of death 
 upon him he is to be deprived of all command and kept in 
 safe custody at their perils. If the Earl of Essex has joined 
 the fleet they are to send him home instantly. If they do not 
 they shall truly answer for the same at their smart, for as we 
 have authority to rule so we look to be obeyed and these be 
 no childish actions." — State Papers {Domestic), May 4, 1589. 
 
 The draft of this letter, deeply scored by the Queen's own 
 hand, was submitted to Walsingham by Windebanke, the 
 Secretary of the Signet, and the minister said that although 
 the letter was as mild as could be expected " under the cir- 
 cumstances," he much feared that any proceedings against one 
 so beloved as Sir Roger Williams would breed mutiny. And 
 so apparently thought the generals, for they took no notice 
 of the Queen's commands. 
 
 The Queen wrote another outspoken letter to the generals 
 on the 20th of May, in which she says they were perverting 
 the object of their expedition ; which was to burn the King of 
 
36 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 After four days of fruitless pottering the troops 
 were presumably sober enough to attempt an attack 
 upon the upper town, and the guns being pointed 
 against it, the general sent a drummer to summon it 
 to surrender before he opened fire. The summons 
 was answered by a musket-shot that laid the poor 
 drummer low, but immediately afterwards a pole 
 was projected over the town wall, and from it there 
 dangled a man hanged by the neck. This was the 
 man who had fired the dastard shot. And then 
 the Spaniards called a parley, and begged that the 
 war might be fair on both sides, as it certainly 
 should be on theirs. Considering that five 
 hundred of their brethren had their throats cut 
 ruthlessly, after they had submitted, this was mag- 
 nanimous at least ; " but as for surrendering the 
 towne, they listened not greatly thereunto." 
 
 So Norris banged away with his cannon for three 
 days to make a breach in the wall of the high town, 
 and at the same time set men to work to bore a 
 mine in the rock beneath the gate, and at the end 
 of the time, all being in readiness, and his men, 
 under the gallant brothers Wingfield, with Philpot, 
 Sampson, and York, waiting to storm the two 
 breaches, the mine turned out a dismal failure, and 
 
 Spain's navy and restore Dom Antonio, and then proceed to 
 the Azores. Corunna, she says, is of little importance and the 
 risk great, and she commands them to fulfil her orders at once. 
 Do not, she says, suffer yourselves to be transported with an 
 haviour of vainglory which will obfuscate the eyes of your 
 judgment. 
 
 Secretary Windebanke, wi-iting to Heneage at the same time, 
 says the Queen is strangely set against the expedition, and is 
 intensely incensed at the fruitless attack on Corunna. " She 
 thinks they went to places for their own profit rather than for 
 her service." — Staic Papers {Domestic). 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 37 
 
 nothing was done. The next day they tried again, 
 and this time with such success that one half of the 
 gate tower was blown up, and the other half left 
 tottering. On rushed the assailants. Some few 
 got into the town, but as the officers and their 
 immediate followers set foot on the breach and 
 waved their men onward, down came the other half 
 of the tower upon them, and crushed them beneath 
 the ruins. Two standards were lost, but captured 
 again, and scores of men were killed. In the dust 
 and terror the unpractised soldiery thought they 
 were the victims of some stratagem of the enemy 
 and fled, leaving the officers and gentlemen volun- 
 teers to extricate themselves as best they could. 
 Poor Captain Sydenham " was pitifully lost, who 
 having three or foure great stones on his lower 
 parts was held so fast, as neither himself could 
 stirre, nor anie reasonable companie recover him. 
 Notwithstanding the next day being found to be 
 alive there was 10 or 12 lost in attempting to 
 relieve him." 
 
 On the other side of the town the breach made 
 in the walls by the culverins was too small, and 
 when brave Yorke had led his men to push of pike 
 with those who stood in the breach, the slope of 
 rubbish on which they mounted suddenly slipped 
 down, and left them six feet below the opening, and 
 so they had to retreat too, through a narrow lane 
 exposed to the full fire of the enemy, and thus the 
 attack failed at both points. 
 
 In the meanwhile all Galicia was arming, and 
 a prisoner brought in by the cattle raiders gave 
 news that the Count de Andrada, with 8,000 men, 
 was at Puente de Burgos, six miles off, which was 
 
38 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 said to be only the beginning of a great army being 
 got together by the Count de Altamira. On the 
 next day, May 6th, it was determined to attack them, 
 and nine regiments of English marched out to the 
 fray. The vanguard, under Sir Edward Norris, 
 was divided into three bodies under Captains 
 Middleton, Antony Wingfield, and Ethrington, 
 respectively, and attacked the enemy in the centre 
 and both flanks simultaneously, routing them at the 
 first charge. They only stopped running when 
 they came to a fortified bridge over a creek of the 
 sea, on the other side of which was their entrenched 
 camp. Sir Edward Norris, with Colonel Sidney, 
 and Captains Fulford, Hinder and others, always in 
 front, fought hand to hand over the bridge and into 
 the trenches, under "an incredible volie of shot for 
 that the shot of their armie flanked upon both sides 
 of the bridge." But the earthworks were soon aban- 
 doned, and Sir Edward Norris, in his very eager- 
 ness to be first, tumbled over his pike and hurt his 
 head grievously. The officers of the vanguard 
 were nearly all more or less hurt, but when the 
 enemy had fled the usual amusement of the 
 "common sort" commenced. All round for miles 
 the country was burnt and spoiled, and the flyino- 
 countrymen were slaughtered without mercy or 
 quarter. " So many as 2,000 men might kill in 
 pursuit, so many fell before us that day " ; and after 
 that was over and the men were returning, hundreds 
 of cowering peasants were found hidden in hedo-es 
 and vineyards, and their " throates " were cut. 
 Two hundred poor creatures took refuge in a 
 " cloyster," which was burned and the men put to 
 the sword as they tried to escape. "You might 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 39 
 
 have seene the countrie more than three miles 
 of compasse on fyre," says the EngHsh eye-witness, 
 and he grows quite hysterical in his laudation of the 
 English valour ; but the Spanish accounts tell how 
 the Netherlands wars, and the fears for Portugal 
 and the French frontier, had denuded all north- 
 western Spain of soldiers, Count de Andrada's force 
 only being a hasty levy of undrilled and practically 
 unarmed countrymen, who were easily routed. 
 
 The next day the English began to ship their 
 artillery and baggage and made ready to depart, 
 after again unsuccessfully trying to fire the upper 
 town. They managed indeed to burn down every 
 house in the lower town, and they set sail on 
 May 9 (O.S.), 1589. 
 
 In the meanwhile utter dismay reigned at Madrid. 
 What was left of the fleet was acknowledged to be 
 powerless for defence, and none knew for certain 
 where the blow was to fall. The accounts from 
 Corunna were intercepted by the Government, and 
 were surmised to be worse than they really were ; 
 but still the general opinion was not far out in 
 supposing that Drake could not do much permanent 
 harm on the open places on the coast, but would 
 eventually attack either Lisbon or Cadiz. Fernando 
 de Toledo was appointed commander-in-chief, but 
 soldiers could not be got together, i Pietro de 
 Medici was hastily ordered to raise 6,000 mer- 
 cenaries in Italy ; and Contarini writes from 
 Madrid to the Doge : "It is true that for want 
 
 ' The bitter jest in Madrid at the time was that, whereas 
 with the Armada the year before there went an army 
 with no commander, there was now a commander with no 
 army. 
 
40 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 of soldiers they have adopted a plan which may 
 prove more hurtful than helpful ; they have enrolled 
 Portuguese, and so have armed the very people 
 whom they have cause to fear, but perhaps they 
 think that as they have destroyed the leaders they 
 have made themselves safe." 
 
 N orris was almost as much dreaded as Drake 
 himself, and his skill and daring suggested to the 
 terrified Court that he might intend to cut through 
 the neck of land upon which Corunna stands, and 
 entirely isolate the town, which he might then make 
 into a great depot for an English fleet. Philip, we 
 are told, was in great anxiety, "not so much on 
 account of the loss he suffers as for the insult 
 which he feels that he has received in the fact that 
 a woman, mistress of only half an island, with the 
 help of a corsair and a common soldier, should have 
 ventured on so arduous an enterprise, and dared to 
 molest so powerful a sovereign." 
 
 The bitterest blow of all to Philip was the know- 
 ledge that Spain's impotence was now patent to the 
 world, and that the mere presence of Drake was suffi- 
 cient to paralyse all resistance. When the English 
 force re-embarked at Corunna, says Contarini, they 
 were not even molested, so glad were the besieged 
 to be rid of him at any cost. "Whilst Drake was 
 at Corunna he was so strongly entrenched that he 
 suffered no loss at all. If he had remained a few 
 days longer the place would have fallen for the 
 reliefs were not as ready as was rumoured. Drake 
 occupied the place called the fishmarket. He 
 knocked down houses, seized cattle, killed soldiers, 
 released officers on ransom, and by pillage of the 
 suburbs and the burning of monasteries seemed to 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 41 
 
 care more for plunder than for glory." i As we 
 have seen, in fact, Drake's sole reason for going to 
 Corunna at all against his mistress' orders was to 
 satisfy with loot the mutinous rabble on board his 
 ships, but of this the Spaniards were naturally 
 ignorant. 
 
 The fleet sailed out of Corunna on the 9th of May, 
 leaving smoking ruins behind them for many miles 
 around ; but contrary winds drove the ships back 
 again and again. At last, on the 13th of May, the 
 truant Swiftsure hove in sight, " to the great delight 
 of us all," bringing the Earl of Essex, Sir Roger 
 Williams, Master Walter Devereux ("the Earl's 
 brother, a gentleman of wonderful great hope "), 
 Sir Philip Butler ("who hath always been most 
 inward with him "), and Sir Edward Wingfield. 
 
 However glad the men of lower rank may have 
 been to see the dashing young nobleman, Drake 
 and Norris can hardly have been overjoyed. They 
 knew by this time that Elizabeth was in earnest 
 about it, and that the purse-strings would be drawn 
 tighter, and the censure be stricter, whilst her errant 
 favourite was with the expedition ; and some inkling 
 of this even reached the writer of the English 
 account of the expedition. " The Earle," he says, 
 " having put himself into the journey against the 
 opinion of the world, and as it seemed, to the 
 hazard of his great fortune, though to the great 
 advancement of his reputation (for as the honour- 
 able carriage of himself towards all men doth make 
 him highlie esteemed at home, so did his exceeding 
 forwardness in all services make him to be wondered 
 
 ' Contarini to the Doge. Venetian Calendar of State 
 Papers. 
 
42 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 at amongst us) who I say put off . . . because he 
 would avoide the importunity of messengers that 
 were daily sent for his return and some other causes 
 more secret to himself" 
 
 The earl's first request was that he should always 
 be allowed to lead the vanguard of the army ; 
 "which was easilie granted unto him, being so 
 desirous to satisfie him in all things " : and thence- 
 forward to the end of the expedition he marched at 
 the head with Major-General Sir Roger Williams, 
 who seemed, by the way, "not one penny the 
 worse " for her Majesty's anathemas. 
 
 Early in the afternoon of May i6th (O.S.) the 
 fleet cautiously approached the town of Peniche, in 
 Portugal. Drake had learnt on his way that a 
 great galleon from the Indies with a million crowns 
 in gold had taken refuge under the guns of the 
 fortress, and doubtless hoped to net so big a prize. 
 But the Archduke Albert in Lisbon was also 
 looking anxiously for the gold, and sent his galleys, 
 under Bazan, to bring the galleon into the Tagus 
 just before the arrival of the English at Peniche. 
 The town of Peniche was held by Gonsalves de 
 Ateide with a body of Portuguese who could not 
 be trusted, and some Castilian reinforcements sent 
 to him under Pedro de Guzman ; but the fortress 
 was commanded by a Captain Araujo, who was 
 known to be secretly in favour of Dom Antonio. 
 Here it was determined to land the force, and 
 Ateide drew up his men at the landing-place 
 before the fortress and opened fire upon the ships 
 as they entered the bay. On the other side of 
 the harbour, half a league off, the surf was 
 running high, and a landing there was looked 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 43 
 
 upon as impracticable, so that the shore was left 
 undefended. Suddenly, when least expected by 
 the Spaniards, Norris began to land his men on 
 this side. Hot-headed Essex would not even wait 
 for his boat to reach land, but jumped into the 
 beating surf breast high with Sir Roger Williams 
 and a band of gentlemen, and so struggled ashore 
 to protect the landing of the rest. By the time 
 Ateide and his 350 Castilians had reached the spot 
 2,000 English had landed on the beach of Consola- 
 tion as it was called. Some slight show of resist- 
 ance was made, and fifteen Spaniards fell at the 
 push of the English pike ; but the Castilians were 
 out-numbered and nearly surrounded, and were 
 forced to retire precipitately inland to a neighbour- 
 ing hamlet to await reinforcements from Torres 
 Vedras. When Norris had landed 12,000 or 13,000 
 men, with the loss of several boatloads in the surf, 
 but without further molestation from the Spaniards, he 
 summoned the Portuguese commandant of the fortress 
 to surrender. He replied that he refused to surren- 
 der to the English, but would willingly do so to his 
 lawful king, Dom Antonio. So the poor pretender, 
 " bigger of spirit than of body," landed with his son 
 Manoel, and his faithful bodyguard of a hundred 
 Portuguese, to be received once more on his own 
 land as a sovereign. He found all things ready for 
 him : his canopy of state erected, plate for his table 
 set out, and kneeling subjects seeking for his smiles. 
 He spoke smoothly and fairly, we are told, to the 
 country people, taking nothing from them, but 
 giving, or at least promising, much, and assuring 
 them all of his protection. 
 
 But if their new sovereign was chary of oppress- 
 
44 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 ing them, no such scruples afflicted their Castilian 
 masters. My Portuguese diarist says that the 
 Spaniards retaliated for Araujo's treachery in sur- 
 rendering Peniche by stealing everything belonging 
 to the Portuguese they could lay their hands upon, 
 and he cites one case in which they took the large 
 sum of two thousand crowns from one of the most 
 influential friends of the Spanish cause. " But," 
 he says, apologetically, " in confused times such 
 as these soldiers will act so." 
 
 Dom Antonio's bodyguard was armed with 
 muskets and pikes from the castle, and here the 
 poor King kept his rough-and-ready Court for two 
 days. He was tenacious of his regal dignity, and 
 had many a little wrangle with the English about the 
 scant ceremony with which they treated him. But 
 greater disappointments were yet in store for him. 
 The friars and peasants flocked in to salute their 
 native king, but, alas, Antonio hoped and looked in 
 vain for the coming of the lords and gentry from 
 whom he expected so much. Wily Philip had been 
 once more too cunning for his enemy. At the first 
 whisper of the expedition he had banished to distant 
 places in his own dominions every Portuguese noble 
 — seventy of them in all — who was not pledged hard 
 and fast to the Castilian cause. One of Antonio's 
 false friends, too, had escaped at Corunna, and had 
 gone straight to Philip and divulged all the pre- 
 tender's plans and the names of his supporters still 
 in Portugal who were to help him into Lisbon. 
 Their shrift, as may be supposed, was a short one, 
 and when Antonio came to his kingdom he found 
 none but monks and clowns to greet him. Such 
 of the gentry as he approached were usually too 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 45 
 
 panic-stricken to side with him, seeing the fate of 
 others of their class, and my Portuguese scoffs at 
 the insolence of the idea that Antonio and the 
 English could hold Lisbon, even if they won it 
 against all the might of Spain, or of the common 
 Portuguese rising without the " fidalgos," and 
 courting the ruin that would befall them if the 
 " heretics " got the upper hand without the fidalgos 
 to restrain them. 
 
 But Antonio put a brave face on matters, and 
 was all eagerness to push on to his faithful capital 
 of Lisbon, which he was confident awaited him with 
 open arms. His confidence to a certain extent ^ 
 seems to have been shared by N orris, and here 
 the second great mistake of the expedition was 
 made. The first vital error was the fruitless waste > 
 of time at Corunna ; the second was the resolution >_ 
 now arrived at by Norris, entirely against Drake's 
 judgment, to march from Peniche overland forty-two 
 miles to Lisbon. Drake, true to the sea and to 
 the tactics by which he had so often beaten the 
 Spaniards, was in favour of pushing on to Lisbon 
 by sea, letting three or four fireships drift about 
 the castle of Sao Gian, which commanded the 
 entrance to the harbour, so that the smoke should 
 spoil the aim of the guns, and then make a dash 
 for the city— and doubtless, thought Drake, for 
 the galleon, with its million gold crowns, lying in 
 front of the India house. Dom Antonio, whose 
 one idea was to keep foot on the land where he 
 was king, sided with Norris. In vain Drake 
 pointed out that they had no baggage train or 
 proper provisions for a march through an enemy's 
 country ; that they had only one weak squadron 
 
46 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 of cavalry, of which the cattle was out of condi- 
 tion ; that they had no fitting field artillery ; and 
 that once inland they would lose the support and 
 protection of the fleet. 
 
 It was all of no avail ; Dom Antonio and Norris 
 had their way, and a single company was left to 
 garrison Peniche,' supported by six ships, whilst 
 the whole of the land forces were to march to 
 Lisbon, and Drake undertook to bring the rest 
 of the fleet to Cascaes, at the mouth of the river, 
 when the weather would allow him to do so. 
 
 During the night after the landing, some cavalry 
 under Captain Alarcon had joined the Spaniards, 
 and a force of Portuguese militia had also been 
 sent in by Don Luis Alencastro, but they 
 soon deserted their colours and left their officers 
 to shift for themselves. The next morning at four 
 o'clock Captain Alarcon and a few of the Spanish 
 cavalry reconnoitred the position at Peniche, 
 but found the enemy too many for them, and 
 could only scour back as hard as they could 
 ride to Luis Alencastro, the Grand-Commander of 
 
 ' A letter in the collection of the Marquis of Salisbury at 
 Hatfield curiously illustrates the not altogether happy rela- 
 tions that existed between the English invaders and the 
 pretender's friends. The letter is dated the 27th of May, 
 and is from General Norris to Captain George (Burton ?), 
 whom he had left in charge at Peniche, complaining that 
 "the King is aggrieved that you do take upon you to give 
 the word since he hath appointed a Governor. And in 
 truth it is not reason but the Governor should have the 
 pre-eminence and therefore henceforward fail not to let him 
 have that honour." This is a sample of the frequent com- 
 plaints that the English did not treat Antonio quite as a king 
 expected to be treated in his own realm. The fact was that 
 Antonio had been too long a suppliant and a fugitive depen- 
 dent largely upon Elizabeth's caprices for the English to 
 regard him otherwise than as a tool for their own ends. 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 47 
 
 the Order of Christ, who was endeavouring to 
 reorganise a body of Portuguese a few miles off, 
 on the road to Lisbon. But terrible tales of the 
 strength of the English had already spread ; and 
 when Alarcon and Guzman reached the Grand- 
 Commander they found his hasty levies in a panic 
 at the story that Drake had brought with him nine 
 hundred great Irish dogs as fierce as lions, and 
 "capable of eating up a world of folks." So they 
 flatly refused to stir ; and the Grand-Commander 
 could do no more than hasten back to Lisbon to 
 inform the Cardinal-Archduke Albert of the state 
 of affairs, whilst Guzman, with the troops, fell back 
 upon Torres- Vedras, to hold if possible the road 
 to Lisbon. 
 
 In the meanwhile the capital was in a state of 
 intense excitement. The native inhabitants, with 
 a lively recollection of the sacking of the city by 
 Alba, flocked to the other side of the Tagus, not- 
 withstanding the strict orders of the Cardinal- Arch- 
 duke to the contrary. Provisions and munitions of 
 war were hastily sent from Spain, and the Prior 
 Fernando de Toledo was already on the move, 
 slowly bringing such troops as he could muster 
 for the relief of Lisbon, whilst the castles and walls 
 of the city were put into a state of defence. The 
 Castilians, few in number and intensely hated by 
 the townsfolk, knew that in a fight the brunt 
 would fall upon them, and that the Portuguese, 
 even though they might not help the enemy, and 
 this was by no means certain, would not raise a 
 finger to support the dominion of Philip. The 
 priests went from house to house, strong adherents 
 of Dom Antonio almost to a man, whispering that 
 
48 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 the English were not, after all, such bad people ; 
 that there were many Catholics amongst them who 
 were better Christians than the Castilians them- 
 selves, and, as the Spanish diarist says, other 
 things of the sort which will not bear repeating. 
 To the well-to-do they said that as soon as a native 
 king was on the throne their wealth would enor- 
 mously increase, whilst the poor were told that 
 " fishing in troubled waters was profitable to the 
 fisherman." 
 
 On the other hand, the Archduke, knowing 
 the people with whom he had to deal, established 
 a veritable reign of terror, and sacrificed without 
 mercy — often without evidence — any person who 
 was even suspected of open sympathy with the 
 invaders, although it was well known in Madrid 
 that the populace of Lisbon had tacitly agreed to 
 open the gates to Dom Antonio and to massacre 
 the Spaniards on his approach. Some Portuguese 
 nobles had left the Archduke on the first landing 
 of Dom Antonio, but, finding that most of their 
 order had been terrorised into quiescence, returned 
 to Lisbon and tendered their submission. They 
 were at once beheaded or imprisoned, and the 
 rest became more slavish than ever in their 
 professions of attachment to the Archduke. Ter- 
 rible stories were spread at the same time of 
 the " impious abominations " of the English here- 
 tics, and the dreadful fate that awaited all Catholics 
 if the invader succeeded, until, as my Portuguese 
 diarist says, " there was not even a loafer on 
 the quay who did not know that he would be 
 cast out or ruined if the English came." But 
 it was all insufficient to make them willine to 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 49 
 
 fight. The exodus still continued, and under cover 
 of night the people stole across the river by thou- 
 sands, and a boat whose usual freight was two 
 ducats could not now be hired under fifty, whilst 
 a bullock-cart and bullocks which could be bought 
 right out in normal times for fifty ducats now 
 charged sixty for a single journey to Aldea Gallega, 
 on the other side of the Tagus. The people of the 
 provinces, says my Portuguese diarist, oppressed 
 the flying citizens more than the English, until the 
 scandal became so great that the Archduke had 
 to interfere and check their rapacity. Under some 
 excuse or another every Portuguese was anxious to 
 get away and leave the fighting to be done by some 
 one else. The Portuguese diarist stoutly denies that 
 his countrymen were cowards or traitors, but always 
 explains that the common people could not have 
 risen without the lead of the native nobles ; and 
 we have seen the methods by which they were 
 terrorised and made powerless. The Spaniard, on 
 the other hand, makes no secret of his contempt 
 for the white-livered Lisbonenses, and uses much 
 strong language about them. My Portuguese 
 diarist greatly resents this feeling, and gives a 
 little personal experience of his own to show how 
 harsh were the words used by the Castilians to- 
 wards the craven citizens. "On the morning," he 
 says, " that the enemy fled I went up to the casde 
 to get some things of mine out of my boxes which 
 I had left there in the rooms of one of the officers, 
 where I had determined to await my fate if things 
 came to the worst. As I was on my way down to 
 the palace again the rumour spread that the enemy 
 was retreating, whereupon some soldiers ascended 
 
 5 
 
so THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 the watch tower to enjoy the sight. I asked them 
 when they returned if the good news were true 
 that the enemy was really flying, and one of them 
 answered me roughly that they who were flying 
 were not the enemy but those who still stay in 
 Lisbon. To which I answered him not a word but 
 God be with ye." 
 
 But by terrorism, energy, and promptness the 
 Archduke at length got the city into a state for 
 defence both against the enemy from without and 
 the probable enemy within. The city water-tanks 
 were locked and the supply brought from outside, 
 so as to save the precious liquid for the coming 
 siege. The resident Spaniards formed themselves 
 into a bodyguard of 150 men, "very smart and 
 well armed," and, as in duty bound, the Germans 
 and Flemings offered two hundred harquebussiers 
 in good order, whilst many Portuguese " fidalgos " 
 slept in the corridors of the palace to protect the 
 Archduke in the hour of need. Four colonels were 
 appointed to organise bands of the inhabitants for 
 the defence of the city, and Matias de Alburquerque, 
 a famous sea-captain, took charge of the twelve war 
 galleys in the Tagus and armed thirty merchant 
 ships which were lying in the harbour. The defen- 
 sive works round the city were divided into sections 
 and apportioned to the command of officers of tried 
 fidelity, whose names need not be recorded here, 
 the river front being mainly entrusted to Portu- 
 guese, who evidently considered theirs the post of 
 danger, as they had not the walls to protect them 
 along the quay side. The Castilians, however, 
 made no secret of the fact that they were placed 
 there as no attack was expected from the river. 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 51 
 
 The parts most strongly guarded, almost entirely by 
 Spaniards, were the quarters of St. Catalina, San 
 Antonio, and San Roque, facing the north and west, 
 from which quarters the English were expected to 
 approach. 
 
 The English army, by all accounts twelve thou- 
 sand strong, marched out of Peniche on the 17th 
 of May, with the Earl of Essex and Sir Roger 
 Williams leading ; and Drake, accompanying them 
 to the top of a hill at some distance off, greeted 
 each regiment as it passed him with kindly words, 
 and hopes of success, which he could hardly have 
 anticipated. 
 
 vSoon the English soldiery began to show their 
 true metal. Strict orders had been given that the 
 property and persons of Dom Antonio's faithful 
 subjects were to be respected ; but as soon as 
 they got clear of Peniche housebreaking and 
 pillage became rife, and Norris had to order his 
 provost-marshal. Crisp, to hang a few of the male- 
 factors before he could obtain obedience. 
 
 The Archduke had sent three squadrons of 
 Spanish horsemen to reinforce Pedro de Guzman 
 at Torres Vedras, block the road to Lisbon, and 
 harass the English. They went out to reconnoitre 
 the enemy at various points after he left Peniche, 
 but they did not like the look of him, and fell back 
 again to Torres Vedras, whilst messengers were 
 hourly sent to the Archduke begging for more 
 men, whom he could not send. At first it was 
 rumoured amongst the English that a stand would 
 be made at a village near Peniche, but when they 
 arrived there the last Spanish horsemen were just 
 scampering out of it. The next day it was said 
 
52 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 that certainly a great stand would be made at 
 Torres Vedras, and this undoubtedly was the Arch- 
 duke's intention; but even the almost impregnable 
 Torres Vedras was untenable with a few hundred 
 horse and a body of militia, who, if they fought at 
 all, would fight on the other side ; and the Spanish 
 forces, for fear of being cut off from their base, 
 hastily evacuated Torres Vedras and fell back 
 gradually, harassing the flanks of the enemy as 
 much as they could and cutting off stragglers. 
 
 And so the main body of Norris' force, with 
 the Earl of Essex and Sir Roger Williams always 
 leading, moved rapidly and peacefully towards 
 Lisbon, whilst the panic in the capital grew greater 
 as the English came nearer. Peaceably — but 
 hungry — for the land was bare, and the English, 
 we are told, "found our food dry and tasteless and 
 hankered after their own fat meats and birds, com- 
 paring our barrenness with the abundance of their 
 own land." There was little or no money in the 
 host, and nothing was to be taken from the Portu- 
 guese without payment. There was in any case 
 very little to take, for most of the people along the 
 road had fled or had been stripped clean by the 
 Castilian soldiers who had gone before. Drake's 
 predictions of trouble in moving an army without 
 a baggage train began to come true, and at last 
 starvation was breeding open mutiny in the English 
 host. Norris was then obliged to tell Antonio that 
 unless food were forthcoming more plentifully the 
 soldiers must be allowed to shift for themselves. 
 The poor pretender could only beseech his con- 
 troller, Campello, to scour the country far and wide 
 for delicacies for the English, " who are naturally 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 53 
 
 dainty and exquisite in their food " ; but he could 
 only pay in promises, and the land was bare, so the 
 invaders still marched a hungry host towards the 
 larders of Lisbon. 
 
 From day to day they were told that the 
 Spaniards would certainly stand and fight to- 
 morrow, but they were continually disappointed, 
 as indeed was the stout-hearted Archduke in his 
 palace, who received with dismay the constant 
 news that his forces were falling further and further 
 back towards the capital without fighting. 
 
 Whatever country people had remained on the 
 road welcomed the invaders with cries of " Viva el 
 Rei Dom Antonio ! " but the poor King still looked 
 in vain for the promised gentlemen. His desire to 
 please his rustic adherents was almost pathetic. 
 He cofidescended, we are told, to caress and 
 embrace the "commonest little people"; and in 
 order to make as brave a show as possible before 
 the English, picked out any countryman who was 
 decently fair-spoken to be paraded before them as 
 some grand gentleman in disguise. But however 
 hopeful he might show himself, he could not conceal 
 the fact that not a dozen men-at-arms had joined 
 him, and his only chance now was that Lisbon 
 itself should declare in his favour. But the native 
 citizens were distracted and divided. The judges 
 and magistrates had abandoned their posts, the 
 shopkeepers had deserted their stores, incendiary 
 fires and pillage were of hourly occurrence, and the 
 Archduke alone kept his head. Even he was not 
 free from danger of attack, for more than one 
 attempt was made to assassinate some of his chief 
 officers. 
 
54 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 On one occasion a large number of men were 
 caught deserting their posts and escaping in a 
 boat to the other side of the Tagus. When they 
 were brought to the Archduke for punishment he 
 said if they were too cowardly to fight in defence 
 of their God and their fatherland they were useless 
 to him and could go. This he knew, that even 
 the Castilian women would mount the walls and 
 fight with stones, if need be, in such a cause. 
 Albert required all his firmness and nerve, for one 
 sign of weakness from him and his handful of 
 Spaniards, would have given heart to the craven 
 Portuguese within and without the walls, who were 
 thirsting for their blood. 
 
 Three-quarters of the Portuguese in Lisbon had 
 fled or were in hiding, and the rest were in Spanish 
 pay or watched day and night by jealous eyes. 
 But watched as they were, and few in numbers, 
 their hopes were still high, and amongst themselves 
 their speech grew bolder. They got news daily 
 from English prisoners and others of the approach 
 of their king, and plotted together how they would 
 serve the hated Castilians when the English 
 deliverers came. 
 
 The rumour ran that the city would be sur- 
 rendered to the invader on Corpus Christi day, 
 and not a Spaniard was to be left alive, and much 
 more to the same effect. But, alas ! on one occa- 
 sion when a few English prisoners were being 
 brought in a panic-cry arose that the invaders had 
 entered the city, and then each man fled to hiding 
 to save his own skin rather than to his post, and 
 the few Spanish guards that remained had to drag 
 them out of cellars and lofts by main force, kicking 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 55 
 
 and cuffing them for a set of cowards for not help- 
 ing the defenders. The Count de Fuentes, once 
 on a false alarm, was sent out of the city with every 
 man who could be spared to Orlas, three leagues off 
 on the road to Cascaes, where it was expected the 
 enemy would pass ; but the English went by Torres 
 Vedras, and Fuentes had to hurry back into Lisbon 
 again the same day, to avoid being cut off and 
 the gates being shut against him. 
 
 On the 19th of May Norris and his troops 
 marched into Torres Vedras, where Dom Antonio 
 was received with regal honours, and the oath of 
 allegiance taken to him. He was desirous of 
 making a detour to Santarem, through, as he said, 
 a rich country favourable to him, but Norris knew 
 the danger of delay, and insisted upon pushing 
 forward to Lisbon. 
 
 Guzman and his Spanish horsemen had fallen 
 back during the previous night to Jara, nearer 
 Lisbon, but he had left Captain Alarcon, with 
 two companies of horse, to hang on the skirts of 
 the enemy. The next day Captain Yorke, who 
 commanded Norris' cavalry, determined to try 
 their metal, and sent a corporal with eight men 
 who rode through forty of the enemy, whilst 
 Yorke himself with forty English horse, put to 
 precipitous flight Alarcon's two hundred. On the 
 following day, May 21st, the English, disappointed 
 again of a fight, were lodged in the village 
 of Louvres, not far from Lisbon, which Guzman 
 had hurriedly evacuated after being very nearly 
 surprised by Norris. The village was small and 
 the accommodation poor, so Drake's regiment, 
 thinking to better their quarters, went to sleep at a 
 
S6 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 little hamlet a mile off. In the early dawn a cry 
 was raised of "Viva el Rei Dom Antonio! " which 
 was the usual friendly salutation of the country folk. 
 The young English sentries fraternised with those 
 who approached, and admitted them into the sleep- 
 ing-camp. It was an ambuscade, and many of the 
 English were slain, but the enemy was finally driven 
 off by two companies of Englishmen who were 
 lodged near. The next day, at a village near 
 Lisbon, a large number were treacherously poisoned 
 by the bad water from a well, or, as some said, by 
 the honey which they found in the houses. This 
 was three miles from Lisbon, at a place called 
 Alvelade, and at eleven o'clock at night Essex left 
 the camp with Sir Roger Williams and 1,000 men 
 to lie in ambuscade near the town. When they 
 had approached almost to the walls a few of them 
 began banging at the gates and otherwise trying 
 to alarm those within and provoke a sally. But 
 the device was too transparent, and a few men 
 shot and a sleepless night were the only result. 
 When the English had arrived at Alvelade, Count 
 de Fuentes, with the main body of Spaniards, was 
 at Alcantara, a mile or so nearer Lisbon. Thither 
 Albert hastily summoned a council of war, and 
 urged his officers at last to make a stand at 
 once before the English could co-operate with 
 their friends within the walls of Lisbon. Fuentes 
 and the other Spanish commanders were of the 
 same opinion, but the Portuguese Colonel, Fer- 
 nando de Castro, made a speech pointing out 
 that the English were short of stores, cut off from 
 their base, and weakened by sickness and short 
 commons. " Let us," he said, " fall back into the 
 
THE COUNTER- A-RM AD A OF 1589. 57 
 
 city and conquer them by hunger and delay. 
 Behind our walls they will be powerless to injure 
 us, whilst we can draw abundant supplies from 
 across the river, and they cannot blockade us even 
 by land with less than 40,000 men." This exactly 
 suited the other Portuguese, who were never com- 
 fortable unless they had a good thick wall between 
 themselves and their enemies. The opinion of the 
 Spaniards was overborne, and the defending force 
 entered the gates of Lisbon on Corpus Christi day, 
 midst the ringing of bells and the more or less 
 sincere rejoicing of the populace. Lisbon feasted 
 and welcomed its defenders, whilst poor Dom 
 Antonio, we are told, at Alvelade just outside, had 
 not a fowl or even a loaf of rye bread to eat. 
 " You may guess how he is hated by the Portu- 
 guese," says my Portuguese diarist, " that he being 
 so near his native Lisbon not even a costermonger 
 or a clown dared to send him a meal, whilst we in 
 the city had plenty." 
 
 Most of the houses adjoining the walls had been 
 blown up, but the monastery of the Trinidade, down 
 the hill towards the river, still remained. The prior 
 was understood to be in favour of Dom Antonio, as 
 were nearly all churchmen, and Ruy Diaz de Lobo, 
 one of the few nobles with Dom Antonio, undertook 
 to negotiate with him to admit the English to the 
 city through the monastery garden. By the aid of 
 two sympathetic monks he obtained access to the 
 prior. But the latter had been gained over by the 
 Spaniards, and a few hours afterwards the pale 
 heads of Ruy Diaz de Lobo and the two monks 
 were grinning with half-closed, lustreless eyes from 
 the top of three poles on the great quay, whilst Sir 
 
58 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 Roger Williams and his men, when they approached 
 the monastery in expectation of a friendly reception, 
 were received with a shower of harquebuss balls, 
 and fell back. The rest of the day, now that the 
 main body of English had come up, was spent in 
 quartering the men in the suburbs of the city, en- 
 trenched camps being formed, protected by breast- 
 works of wine-pipes filled with earth. Tired with 
 their six days' march and their labour in the 
 trenches, Norris' little army were glad to pass their 
 first night before Lisbon in such peace as the 
 besieged would allow them. 
 
 If the enterprise was ever to succeed this was 
 the moment. The English were more numerous as 
 regards men bearing arms, but they had come upon 
 their wild-goose chase against a fortified city without 
 any battering artillery or proper appliances for a 
 siege, whilst the Spaniards were behind strong 
 walls, with unlimited sources of supply from the 
 river front across the Tagus. Norris, on the other 
 hand, was short of supplies, with fifteen miles of 
 defensible country between him and Cascaes, the 
 point where the fleet was to await him. The 
 advantage, therefore, was clearly on the side of the 
 besieged, but for the one element of the disaffection 
 of Lisbon itself from within, and in this lay Dom 
 Antonio's last chance. A letter written by Don 
 Francisco Odonte, adjutant-general in Lisbon, on 
 the day following the arrival of the English forces 
 before the walls, gives a vivid description of the 
 state of affairs there at the time."^ 
 
 " Dom Antonio," he says, "spent the night in the 
 house of the Duke d'Aveiro, and then early in the 
 ' Venetian Calender of State Papers. 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 59 
 
 morning completed the investment of the city and 
 continued his search for some secret gate by which 
 he might enter. But the garrison harassed him as 
 much as they could. Don Sancho Bravo and Captain 
 Alarcon have been skirmishing all day outside the 
 city, and have sent in 25 or 30 English prisoners 
 who have been consigned to the galleys ; and if they 
 could only do the same by all those who are really 
 fighting us, whilst feigning to be our friends, they 
 might man more galleys than are to be found in all 
 Christendom this day, for those who have shown 
 their colours during the last three days, and that 
 without a blush, are simply infinite, nor is there any 
 wonder that Dom Antonio has attempted this enter- 
 prise, owing to the promises held out to him ; for 
 from the moment he disembarked, he has been 
 supplied with abundance of provisions, ' whilst not a 
 man has offered us his services. All the aldermen 
 of the city are against us but two, the rest are all in 
 hiding, and some even have supplied Dom Antonio's 
 troops, with as little shamefacedness as if they had 
 come from England with him. In this quarter of 
 the city there is not a man left. Some have fled 
 across the river, some are hidden, some have joined 
 Dom Antonio. The troops under the four colonels 
 publicly declare they will not fight. Dom Antonio 
 was certain the moment he appeared the city would 
 rise, and on this account we are in great alarm and 
 have passed a very bad night. God help us ! " 
 
 But the English did not sleep tranquilly either. 
 In the first hours of the morning of the 25th of May 
 
 ' This is more likely to be true than the assertion of my 
 Portuguese that Antonio could get nothing to eat. The great 
 body of the people were unquestionably in his favour, but had 
 no leaders and would not fight. 
 
6o THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 Don Garcia Bravo, with 500 Spanish troops from 
 Oporto, arrived in Lisbon. They were hungry, 
 ragged, and weary, but they were eager to meet 
 the foe, and barely gave themselves time to snatch 
 a hurried meal before sallying from the gate of San 
 Anton and up the hill to the quarters of Colonel 
 Brett in the farm of Andres Soares. Another 
 force at the same time came from the gate of Santa 
 Catalina and forced Brett's trenches from that side. 
 The long rows of windows of the monastery of San 
 Roque on the hill were lined by Spanish musketeers, 
 who kept up a deadly fire on the English, whilst 
 two of the great guns of the castle were brought to 
 bear upon one exposed side of the invaders' camp. 
 The attack was made before dawn, and Brett had 
 hardly time to muster his men in the darkness and 
 confusion, when a cannon-shot from the walls laid 
 him low. Captain Carsey and Captain Carr were 
 mortally wounded, and 200 other officers and men 
 slain. The rest of the English forces were aroused, 
 and came to the rescue under Colonel Lane and 
 Colonel Medkirk, and "put them to a sodain fowle 
 retreate, insomuch as the Earle of Essex had the 
 chase of them even to the gates of the High towne, 
 wherein they left behind them many of their best 
 commanders." A body of Spanish horse, sallying 
 from the gates of San Anton to support their com- 
 rades, met the latter in full retreat in a narrow lane, 
 and unwillingly trampled them down ; thus adding 
 to the confusion, which was completed by a flank 
 charge upon the struggling mass by Yorke's cavalry. 
 The English chronicler claims that the Spanish loss 
 tripled ours, but my diarists say that they had 
 only twenty-five killed and forty wounded, and the 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 61 
 
 Portuguese tries to account for the heavy loss of 
 wounded by accusing the English of using poisoned 
 bullets. The next day the English tried to get in 
 through the monastery, but they found the city fore- 
 warned and on the alert, although the monks had 
 done their best for them. The day after they 
 bribed a Portuguese captain in charge of the wall 
 at the nearest point to the river to let them pass 
 round at low tide, but the spies told the Archduke, 
 and the English found their ally replaced by a 
 Spaniard with a strong force, who sent them flying 
 back again. And so three days passed in constant 
 skirmishes, whilst Norris was chafing and helpless 
 without. The fatal mistake he had made in leaving 
 the fleet was now apparent. The time, too, they 
 had lost at Corunna was irreparable. Fernando de 
 Toledo was approaching with relief, and the first 
 dismay in Spain had now given way to desperate 
 energy. The loss of men in the English camp 
 from sickness and wounds was terrible, supplies 
 and munitions were desperately short, there was 
 no medical aid or transport for the sick and dis- 
 abled, whilst the Portuguese in Lisbon, from whom 
 everything had been hoped, still made no sign. 
 
 Dom Antonio still put a brave face on the matter, 
 but his heart was sinking. For the first two days 
 he had lodged in the rear of the English camp, 
 outside Santa Catalina, but on the third, says my 
 Portuguese diarist, he began to fear for his safety, 
 and, wearied of low fare and the sound of musketry, 
 sought refuge in the house of a Portuguese gentle- 
 man on the road to Cascaes. But he was repulsed 
 and barely escaped capture, and thereafter could but 
 cling desperately to the English force. In vain he 
 
62 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 looked now for the general rising in his favour, for 
 the promised nobles who never came, and hour by- 
 hour the prospect darkened. The Earl of Essex, 
 young, inexperienced, hot-headed, was for assault- 
 ing all sorts of impossible places with pike and 
 musket, but N orris knew better, and sadly acknow- 
 ledged to himself that the expedition had failed. 
 
 Drake, with the fleet, had in the meanwhile 
 reached Cascaes with everything he could lay hands 
 on in the form of prizes. He had cast anchor on 
 the very day twelvemonth that the great Armada 
 had first sailed out of Lisbon, and the townspeople 
 of the capital were full of portents which they saw 
 in this coincidence. Every one in Lisbon by this 
 time feared that he would sail up the river and 
 enter the harbour ; and such was the dread of his 
 name that if he had done so he might have turned 
 the tide of victory. But his advice had been 
 rejected, and he would not venture under the guns 
 of the forts with an under-manned fleet and no 
 soldiers. So he remained at Cascaes and left 
 Norris to get out of the hobble as best he could. 
 When he arrived he found the town almost aban- 
 doned, for the citizens had fled in terror at his very 
 name. My Portuguese says that Cardenas, the 
 commander of the fortress, "a great gentleman," 
 was deceived by a monk (or, as he says, the devil 
 in disguise of one) into the belief that Lisbon had 
 fallen, and he accordingly gave up the fortress, and 
 himself took to flight. The Castilian and the Eng- 
 lishman tell the story somewhat differently, and say 
 that Cardenas was an adherent of Dom Antonio, 
 and stipulated that a show of compulsion should 
 be used before he surrendered the fortress. The 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 63 
 
 result in any case was the same to him, for the 
 " great gentleman's " head soon afterwards adorned 
 one of the Archduke's poles on the quay at Lisbon. 
 
 Drake had therefore established himself without 
 difficulty at Cascaes, and patiently awaited the result 
 of the land attack on Lisbon. 
 
 If the English outside the walls of the capital 
 were in a bad way, the small force of steadfast 
 Spaniards inside were not much better. They 
 knew that the Portuguese citizens around them 
 were hourly watching for an opportunity to cut 
 their throats and let in the native pretender. Panics 
 of treason and treachery were of hourly occurrence, 
 and on several occasions only the coolness of the 
 Cardinal-Archduke averted disaster. Every day 
 men of the best blood of Portugal, often taken from 
 the immediate surrounding of the Archduke, were 
 seized for assumed treason, the policy being to 
 deprive the disaffected populace of native leaders. 
 To further terrorise the citizens, and prevent them 
 from plucking up heart to open the gates, a great 
 review of all the Spanish troops was held in an 
 open space where the enemy could see as well as 
 the wavering townfolk. My Spanish diarist says, 
 "With the sun flashing on shining morions and the 
 brave show of arms and men all were convinced, 
 friends and enemies alike that the success of our 
 cause was certain." 
 
 Boldness and firmness won the day. The next 
 morning Norris called his colonels together to seek 
 their advice and consult with Dom Antonio. He 
 said that as the besieged stood firm and the popu- 
 lace made no move, the English force must have 
 artillery and munitions if they were to succeed, and 
 
64 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 asked their opinion as to whether he should wait 
 for Dom Antonio's forces, which came not, and 
 meanwhile send a detachment to Cascaes for muni- 
 tions, or raise the siege altogether. Many were 
 for sending 3,000 men to Cascaes at once. They 
 had given the enemy a good drubbing, they said, 
 and they would sally no more ; but Norris had 
 lost hope in Portuguese promises, and was not 
 quite so contemptuous of the enemy as some of 
 them, and he decided that he would wait only 
 one day more for Dom Antonio's levies. If 3,000 
 came in that night he would send a like number 
 of English to Cascaes for the munitions, otherwise 
 he would raise the siege and leave before daybreak. 
 In vain Antonio prayed for a few days' longer grace. 
 In nine days all Portugal would acclaim him. 
 Lisbon was wavering already, and would turn 
 the scale. But all his prayers were in vain ; 
 and before dawn the English army was mustered 
 and ready for the march. Essex was disgusted 
 at the turn things had taken, and went up to 
 the principal gate (he and Williams being the 
 last men to leave) and broke his lance against it, 
 crying out that if there was any within who would 
 come out and have a bout with him in honour of 
 his mistress let him come, and he gave them all the 
 lie to their teeth. And then he turned away and 
 followed the army, no doubt much relieved in his 
 mind. 
 
 During the day that Norris was awaiting the 
 arrival of Dom Antonio's troops the English had 
 not left their trenches, and the defenders feared 
 that some deep design lay behind this. Were they 
 mining, or was Drake sending up some heavy 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 65 
 
 guns ? they thought. So when the dawn of the 
 27th of May showed that the main body of the 
 EngHsh was already on its way to Cascaes, Count de 
 Fuentes still doubted whether it was not all a feint 
 to draw him out from the shelter of his walls, 
 and peremptorily refused permission to Count Villa 
 Dorta to follow them up and engage them. The 
 way of the retreating force lay along the shore, 
 but to avoid the fire of the galleys which followed 
 their movements they chose the rough by-paths 
 where possible. And so, all undisciplined, sick, 
 and starving, they wandered and struggled on as 
 best they could, four hundred at least of stragglers 
 and sick being killed or captured by Villa Dorta, 
 who hung upon the rear, notwithstanding his chief's 
 prohibition. Later in the day Fuentes so far con- 
 quered his suspicion as to lead his army out to 
 Viera, half-way to Cascaes, but he had barely 
 sighted the enemy than some rumour or suspicion 
 reached him of an intended rising in Lisbon during 
 his absence, and he hurried back again to the city. 
 My Portuguese diarist ridicules the suggestion of 
 such a danger as unworthy of any sensible man ; but 
 the utter futility of the English and Portuguese 
 proceedings from the first was such as well might 
 excuse , Fuentes for thinking that some deeper 
 design must surely lay behind. The suspicion of 
 the Portuguese on the part of the Spaniards at this 
 time is illustrated by an anecdote given by the 
 Portuguese diarist. Alvaro Souza, the captain of 
 Philip's Portuguese guard, with five companions, 
 accompanied Sancho Bravo, who took out a force to 
 harry the English on their way to Cascaes. Souza 
 straggled and was captured by Spanish soldiers. 
 
66 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 who did not know him. They were near the 
 castle of Sao Gian at the mouth of Lisbon harbour 
 and knowing that Pero Venegas, the commandant, 
 was a friend of his father, Souza sent a messenger to 
 him begging him to answer for his loyalty. Vene- 
 gas declined to reply, and Souza was lead off under 
 arrest. On the way he met the famous Alvaro 
 de Bazan going to his galleys. He was a friend, 
 and Souza appealed to him to stand by him and 
 his companions, " but he answered coldly that he 
 knew him not, nor was this a time to recognise 
 any one." He had, he said, recently answered 
 for some Portuguese fidalgos in the palace, and 
 a few hours afterwards they were arrested for 
 treason. 
 
 Fifteen weary miles over rough ground, and with 
 Villa Dorta's troops harassing their flank and rear, 
 the English managed to cover during the day, and 
 at last, late in the evening, they marched into 
 Cascaes.i We may well imagine that the meeting 
 between Drake and Norris was not very cordial. 
 The officers threw the whole blame for failure upon 
 Drake for not coming up the river to support them 
 before Lisbon ; the sailors, on the other hand, saying 
 that the march overland was against Drake's advice, 
 and that his ships, without men-at-arms to defend 
 them and work the guns, would have been at 
 the mercy of the enemy. At all events, it was 
 
 ' If the Earl of Essex was rash and headstrong, he was 
 also chivalrous. Pricket (or Wingheld) says : " Hee for 
 money hired men to carrie sick and hurt upon pikes (for 
 want of waggons) and hee (whose true \'irtue and nobilitie, 
 as it dooth in all other his actions appear so did it very much 
 in this) threw his owne stuffe, I mean apparell and neces- 
 saries from his owne carriages, and let them be left by the 
 way, to put hurt and sick men upon them in this march." 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. e-j 
 
 clear they had failed in two of the objects of 
 the voyage — namely, to burn the King of Spain's 
 ships and restore Dom Antonio ; and one other 
 only remained to be attempted, which was to take 
 the Azores. 
 
 I have already said that the raising of the siege of 
 Lisbon took the defenders by surprise. They fully 
 believed it to be an attempt to draw the Spanish 
 troops out of the town in order that the citizens 
 might rise and massacre the few Spaniards left. 
 So certain were they of this that an unfortunate 
 Portuguese noble — Count Redondo — who arrived 
 that day and went to pay his respects to the 
 Archduke, was immediately seized and beheaded 
 pour encourager les autres. As soon as they saw 
 the English had really gone, Count de Fuentes with 
 his six or seven thousand men again made a recon- 
 naissance almost to the English position at Cascaes, 
 and finding the invaders well entrenched, with the 
 fleet behind them, decided that it would be too risky 
 to attack them, and hastened back again to Lisbon. 
 News of the nearness of the Spaniards was brought in 
 by some friars, of whom great numbers hung about 
 Dom Antonio's quarters, and Norris and Essex each 
 promised the messengers a hundred crowns if they 
 found the enemy in the place reported, as they 
 were spoiling for a fight in the open before em- 
 barking. But Fuentes had gone to Lisbon, and 
 the friars lost their reward. Norris, however, still 
 eager, sent a page who spoke French, and a 
 trumpeter, post-haste to Lisbon, with a challenge 
 to Fuentes and his army to come into the open 
 and fight. The opportunity was too good for 
 Essex to miss, so he too sent a cartel by the page 
 
68 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 on his own account, giving every one the lie in a 
 general way and offering to fight anybody in single 
 combat. The messenger came back again without 
 an answer, only that the Spaniards had threatened 
 to hang him for bringing such vapouring insolence 
 to them ; but the Spaniard tells the story in 
 another way, less honourably for himself. He says, 
 whilst the messengers were being entertained "as 
 if they were great gentlemen " at breakfast by some 
 of the captains who spoke French, the letters (which 
 they had said could only be opened by the Arch- 
 duke's permission) were surreptitiously steamed, 
 read, and re-sealed, and handed back again as 
 if unopened, with the reply that his Highness would 
 not allow them to be opened. So Norris and Essex 
 had their bravado for nothing, and went without 
 their fight. 
 
 In Lisbon the common people were as disturbed 
 as ever, doubtless feeling that their chance of free- 
 dom was slipping away from them, and alarms 
 were constantly raised that the English were re- 
 turning. But Spanish reinforcements were arriving 
 now. The Duke of Braganza, head of the Por- 
 tuguese nobility, arrived in royal state with a great 
 body of retainers to help the Archduke, and all hope 
 for Dom Antonio gradually ebbed away. 
 
 The English commanders in Cascaes began now 
 to think it high time to put themselves right with 
 the angry Queen, who continued to send furious 
 messages about their disobedience and about Essex 
 and Sir Roger Williams. On the 2nd of June 
 they wrote from Cascaes a full account of all that 
 had happened in the best light they could devise, 
 and saying they knew not what to do unless 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 69 
 
 supplies came at once from England. Everybody 
 was terribly seasick, they said, and well-nigh 
 starving. Seeing that no more provisions could 
 be expected, they wrote, on the 5th of June, that 
 they had decided to go to St. Michaels ; and then, 
 for the first time, they confessed that Essex was 
 with them. They had met him, they said, to their 
 great surprise, off Cape Finisterra, but could not 
 send him home before, as they could not spare 
 the Swiftsiire ; but still no word about Sir Roger 
 Williams. I 
 
 If Drake could not or would not burn the Spanish 
 fleet on this occasion, he was always a splendid hand 
 at plundering merchantmen, and during the six days 
 that his fleet lay before Cascaes he scoured the sea 
 for miles round in search of prizes, taking as many 
 as forty German hulks loaded with Spanish mer- 
 chandise. Into these prizes the men from the 
 Dutch flyboats were transhipped, and the Dutch ~ 
 captains sent off without being paid their freights, " 
 glad, no doubt, to get away from such company £ 
 on any terms. 
 
 In the meanwhile Lisbon was gradually settling 
 down. People who had been hiding in churches 
 and cellars for the last ten days crept out, nearly 
 all under the impression that the Spaniards had 
 all been murdered, and that King Antonio had 
 come to his own again. Dire was their disappoint- 
 
 ' Essex started for England on the i6th of June, two days 
 after his brother, on receipt of letters direct from the Queen, 
 brought by a ship with stores from England. Williams was 
 very desirous of accompanying him, but the generals refused to 
 let him go, as they doubtless wished him to have the benefit 
 of the favourite's mollifying influence with the Queen for 
 some weeks before he arrived in England. 
 
70 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 meiit when they found that they were not the 
 only people who had skulked in hiding, and that 
 none of all the city had dared to strike the blow 
 that would have made Portugal free again. So 
 they patiently bent their neck to the yoke and 
 cheered his Highness the Archduke at the top of 
 their voices as he went in state to the cathedral 
 to hear a solemn Te Detun of victory. 
 
 The Spaniards did their best to follow up the 
 enemy. The ships in the Tagus were fitted out to 
 watch Cascaes and follow the English fleet, doing all 
 the damage they could, and Don Pedro de Guzman 
 was sent to cut off the English garrison left at Peniche. 
 They urged the horses, says the Spanish diarist, 
 until they were ready to drop, but arrived too late to 
 stop the embarkation, except of about 200 men, 
 who were put to death. 
 
 On the 8th of June the English fleet set sail, 
 pursued and harassed by the galleys from Lisbon 
 in nearly a dead calm. Three of our ships were 
 taken or sunk and one burned, by her captain, 
 Minshaw, after a desperate resistance. A wind 
 sprang up, however, and the Spanish galleys were 
 left behind ; but soon the fleet got scattered, the 
 men died, and were thrown overboard by the hundred 
 from scurvy, starvation, and wounds ; but, notwith- 
 standing all, after sailing ostensibly for the Azores, 
 Drake turned back again and, picking up twenty- 
 five of his ships which had been separated from 
 him, sailed up the bay and attacked Vigo. He 
 had only 2,000 men fit to fight : sickness and priva- 
 tion had thinned them down to that, but with those 
 few men, finding Vigo deserted, the English burnt 
 and wasted the town and all the villages around. 
 
THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 71 
 
 " A verie pleasant rich valley but wee burnt it all, 
 houses and corne, so as the countrey was spoyled 
 seven or eight miles in length." Then they decided 
 to drop down to the isle of Bayona, and there put 
 the pick of the men and stores on twenty of the best 
 ships for Drake to take to the Azores, whilst the 
 rest returned to England. But for some reason 
 Drake broke the agreement and passed Bayona 
 without even calling, and the thirty ships that were 
 awaiting him there were left to their fate. Beset 
 with tempest and pestilence, without a commander, 
 it was decided by those on board to make the best 
 of their way to England, in terrible distress as they 
 were for provisions and water. After ten days' 
 voyage they arrived at Plymouth on the 2nd of 
 July, and found that Drake had already arrived 
 there with the Queen's ships, having abandoned 
 his voyage to the Azores. Most of the remaining 
 ships had sought other ports in preference, in order 
 to sell their prizes without having to share the 
 proceeds with others. 
 
 Such of the soldiers as came to Plymouth were 
 sent grumbling home with five shillings each for 
 their wages and the arms they bore. The English 
 chronicler thinks that this was "verie good pay, 
 considering they were victualled all the time." Such, 
 however, was not the opinion of the unfortunate 
 men themselves, who had not been allowed to loot 
 as much as they thought fit in Portugal. They 
 said that if they had been permitted to march 
 as through an enemy's country, they would have 
 come back the richest army that ever returned to 
 England. Not more than 5,000 of them ever came 
 home ; but their story was so dismal a one that 
 
72 
 
 THE COUNTER-ARMADA OF 1589. 
 
 all England rang with reprobation of the bad 
 management and parsimony that had brought the 
 expedition to so inglorious a conclusion. 
 
 The first and third objects of the expedition — 
 namely, the burning of the Spanish fleet and the 
 capture of St. Michaels — were never even attempted, 
 but the second object was very nearly being at- 
 tained, and the restoration of Dom Antonio, prac- 
 tically as a vassal of England, might have been 
 effected a dozen times over if the Portuguese in 
 Lisbon had not been an utterly terrified set of 
 poltroons. On various occasions, when Count de 
 Fuentes and his troops were outside, a few dozen 
 daring men might have seized the gates and have 
 turned the tide in Antonio's favour. It was not 
 to be, however, and the poor King wandered a 
 poverty-stricken fugitive yet for a few years before 
 he died, but his desperate struggle for sovereignty 
 ended with the ignominious failure of the English 
 attempt to avenge a great national injury by a 
 joint-stock enterprise. 
 
JULIA N R OMER OS WA SHB UCKLER. 
 
JULIAN ROMEROS WA SHB UCKLER. 
 
 In a slumberous street in old Madrid, called anciently 
 the Calle de Cantaranas, but now inappropriately 
 named after Lope de Vega, there stands a venerable 
 convent of barefooted Trinitarian nuns. The for- 
 tress-like red walls with the tiny grated windows 
 looking upon the street, the quaint, sad tranquillity 
 which hangs around the place, are only such as 
 mark hundreds of other like retreats in Madrid and 
 elsewhere ; and yet to this particular convent many 
 reverent steps are bent from all quarters of the 
 earth, for here lie the bones of the "maimed one of 
 Lepanto," the author of " Don Quixote." He died 
 only a few yards away, in his house in the Calle de 
 Leon, and was quietly laid to rest in the convent, 
 where one of his own daughters was a nun. The 
 very fact of his burial there was almost forgotten — 
 was indeed for many years disputed, until proved 
 beyond possibility of doubt not long since — and 
 when the fury for destroying religious foundations 
 seized the rulers of Madrid after the revolution of 
 
 1868, the convent was marked down for destruction 
 
 75 
 
76 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 like so many others of its kind. And destroyed it 
 would have been but for the pious zeal of the good 
 " sententon," Mesonero Romanos, most beloved of 
 Madrid antiquarians, who woke up the Academy of 
 History, and brought such pressure to bear upon the 
 Government as to save the sepulchre of Cervantes 
 from profanation for all future time, and thus enabled 
 the great author, after he had lain in his grave 
 for two and a half centuries, to repay his debt to the 
 Trinitarian fathers who rescued him from his galling 
 slavery in the hands of the infidel. A stone tablet 
 is now fixed in the wall of the convent setting 
 forth the fact of his sepulture there in 1616, and the 
 foundation of the community a few years previously 
 by Dona Juana Gaitan, daughter of General Julian 
 Romero. The name of the latter awakens no 
 responsive echoes in Spanish minds. I have before 
 me, indeed, a recently published Spanish historical 
 work which ascribes his very existence to a wrong 
 period. With the exception of a few particulars of 
 his later life given in a local history of Cuenca by 
 Father Mufioz, no Spanish writer has ever been at 
 the trouble of tracing what little may be known of 
 his stirring career. And yet the man in his day 
 was the very prototype of those indomitable adven- 
 turers, lusting for blood and gold, who, the sword in 
 one hand and the cross in the other, hunted down 
 to death the Indians of one hemisphere and the 
 " heretics " of the other. Keen, cruel, Alba had no 
 more ruthless instrument for his fell work than 
 "Captain Julian," upon whom and Sancho de 
 Avila the hatred of the persecuted Flemings was 
 mainly concentrated. In the course of my some- 
 what out-of-the-track studies I have found the 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. yj 
 
 name of Julian Romero constantly cropping up, and 
 so many personal traits of him have appeared, that 
 by carefully piecing them together a more complete 
 account may be formed of the life and character of 
 this typical swashbuckler than of, perhaps, any of 
 his fellows. His life, too, offers some interest to 
 Englishmen, for he swaggered and ruffled in Lon- 
 don many a time and oft, and was one of those 
 Spanish mercenaries who, in the reigns of Henry 
 VHI. and Edward VI., fought so bravely against 
 the French and Scots and quelled by their ferocity 
 the risings of Kett in Norfolk and Arundell in the 
 West Country. Practically nothing whatever was 
 known of the lives — hardly indeed the existence — 
 of the Spanish mercenaries in England until the 
 recent publication of the anonymous " Spanish 
 Chronicle of Henry VHI.," ' which I now attribute 
 to Antonio de Guaras, a leading Spanish merchant 
 in London, whom I know to have been on close 
 terms of intimacy with the Spanish soldiers, and 
 particularly with Julian Romero, whose early ad- 
 ventures in England are evidently related at first 
 hand in the Chronicle. 
 
 Of all the turbulent soldiers of fortune who quar- 
 relled, intrigued, and triumphed in England, and 
 whose adventures are so minutely told in the 
 Chronicle, only one was heard of in after life. 
 The general. Sir Peter Gamboa, was murdered 
 with- Captain Sir Alonso de Villa Sirga in St. 
 Sepulchre's churchyard, hard by Newgate, one 
 wet winter's night in 1551, by Captain Guevara, 
 who was incontinently hanged in Smithfield. Sir 
 
 ■ "Chronicle of Henry VHL," Edited by Martin A, S. 
 Hume. London, 1889. 
 
78 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 Pero Negro died of the sweating sickness in one of 
 the crowded lanes of old London city. Juan de 
 Haro was killed by the English for attempted 
 desertion with his company to the French enemy 
 before Boulogne ; others fell in the Flemish wars, 
 and only the rash and boastful " Captain Julian " 
 lived to become Alba's trusted henchman, and to 
 hand his name down to the execration of genera- 
 tions of Flemings as one of the prime movers of 
 the " Spanish Fury " in Antwerp. So great was 
 the fame of his ferocity that the panic mongers, who 
 were for ever sending to Elizabeth and Cecil intel- 
 ligence of the dreadful vengeance which was to fall 
 upon England at the hands of King Philip, could 
 invent nothing more terror-striking than their con- 
 stantly repeated dread that Julian Romero was to 
 swoop down upon the coast and serve English Pro- 
 testants in the same way as he had treated those of 
 the Netherlands. He had, indeed, as will be shown 
 in his own words at various periods of his life — now 
 for the first time brought together — all the vices and 
 virtues of his class and time. Vain and boastful, 
 bigoted and cruel, he was nevertheless true to his 
 salt, faithful, brave, and steadfast ; of that stern, 
 self-sacrificing stuff by which alone empires may be 
 won or despotism defended. He was born at Hue- 
 lamo, in the province of Cuenca, of very humble folk, 
 for even when he was in high command and on 
 terms of close intimacy with nobles and ministers, 
 he was never given the nobiliary address of Don, 
 which was enjoyed by the most remote and out-at- 
 elbows representative of the hidalgo class. He was 
 not much of a scholar either, for his signature which 
 exists at Simancas is the only part of his letters in 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 79 
 
 his own hand, and is painfully traced in great bold 
 straight lines, like a row of halberds. 
 
 In the winter of 1534 every village in Spain 
 resounded with the drum-beat of the recruiters, 
 who were seeking soldiers for the Emperor's 
 great expedition against the Moors, which was 
 to start from Barcelona in the spring. Spanish 
 hearts were all aflame with wondrous stories of 
 fortune and adventure. The excitement, the free- 
 dom, the idleness, and the possible gains of a 
 soldier's life had seized upon the imagination of 
 Spanish youth ; and the turbulent spirit of war- 
 like adventure in far countries was, for the next 
 century at least, to be the dominant note of the 
 national character. Julian must have been a mere 
 boy, but he joined the standard, so he wrote 
 forty years afterwards, at Christmas, 1534, as a foot- 
 soldier, and, with a pike on his shoulder, started on 
 his life of adventure. There was no one to record 
 the doings and sufferings of the humble man-at-arms 
 in those stirring days, and beyond the fact that he 
 drifted from Spain to Tunis, from Tunis to Italy, 
 and thence to Flanders and France, always in the 
 midst of the fighting in the Emperor's wars, nothing 
 is known for the next ten years of Julian Romero's 
 service. In the beginning of 1544 Henry VIII. 
 had arranged to enter into alliance with the Em- 
 peror to jointly attack the King of France, and the 
 probability is that if they had together marched 
 upon Paris promptly, they would have had France 
 at their mercy. But other counsels prevailed, and, 
 whilst Charles operated in Picardy and French 
 Flanders, Henry sent the Duke of Norfolk and his 
 brilliant son, Surrey, with an army of 15,000 men, 
 
8o JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 to besiege Montreuil. The King's brother-in-law, 
 Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, at the same time 
 with a large force " sat down before " Boulogne, 
 and, on the 14th of July, great Harry himself 
 landed at his good town of Calais to take the 
 supreme command of his army before Boulogne. 
 He was accompanied by a brilliant train of courtiers 
 and soldiers, and took with him as his chief military 
 adviser a great Spanish noble, Beltran de la Cueva, 
 third Duke of Alburquerque, whose important share 
 in the reduction of the town has been almost 
 entirely ignored by English historians. Besides the 
 200 Spanish soldiers who followed the Duke, there 
 were already three Spanish captains in Henry's 
 service, each with a company of his countrymen, to 
 the aggregate number of about 260 men, all of them 
 seasoned veterans in the Continental wars ; and 
 these, together with the less experienced English 
 levies, succeeded in capturing the town of Boulogne 
 on the 15th of September. It appears that a breach 
 had been made in the walls three weeks before, and 
 the Spaniards begged Henry to let them take the 
 place by assault. He told them that he would rather 
 waste 10,000 pounds of powder than that a single 
 one of his Spaniards should be sacrificed, "where- 
 upon they blushed for mere shame." But as usual 
 Henry had his own way, and the town surrendered ; 
 " the Frenchnen" says Wriothesley, " departing 
 orit of the towne with as much goodes as they might 
 carye, both men and women, besyde that the waggons 
 caryed ; and the King his Majestie entered the said 
 towne the i 'ith September with greate tryumphe, and 
 the 20th day a solempne procession was kept with Te 
 Deum songe for the Victory of the King his Majestie 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 8i 
 
 and many fyers made in the citye and in every part 
 of the realme. The last day of September the King 
 his Majestie landed at Dover at midnight." The 
 reason for Henry's hurried return was his desire to 
 retain all the credit for his victory without waiting 
 for the probable reverse. Charles V. had come to 
 terms with the French, and when he had sent word 
 to his English ally that he was negotiating, Henry 
 arrogantly said that the Emperor might make peace 
 if he pleased, but he, Henry, would suit himself in 
 the matter. But when he found the whole French 
 army turned against him he hurriedly raised the 
 siege of Montreuil, put all his forces into Boulogne 
 under Lord Grey, and got back to England as fast 
 as he could, whilst his laurels were yet green. All 
 through the next year the French siege of Boulogne 
 went on, the three companies of Spanish mercen- 
 aries, steady old soldiers as they were, being the 
 mainstay of the defence. They complained bitterly 
 of the raw Englishmen's habit of killing the 
 prisoners instead of holding them to ransom, and on 
 one occasion were near mutiny because their 
 prisoners were murdered. "How now," said Cap- 
 tain Salablanca to Lord Grey, " do you think we 
 are in the King's service for the wretched four 
 ducats a month we earn ? Not so my lord ; we 
 serve with the hope of taking prisoners and getting 
 ransom. Your men have even now killed a gentle- 
 man of mine for whom I should have got at least 
 five or six thousand crowns ransom." Whatever 
 their object may have been in serving the schis- 
 matic king, Henry thought very highly of them, 
 and when in the year 1545 he was about to send 
 Warwick to attack the Scots, an opportunity 
 
 7 
 
82 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 occurred for him to engage some more, he gladly 
 seized it. Charles V. had disbanded a large pro- 
 portion of his army after the peace of Crespi was 
 concluded, and had embarked them for Spain with 
 orders that, under pain of death, they were to take 
 service with no other sovereign. A ship with 800 
 or 1,000 of these disbanded soldiers on their way 
 home anchored in the Downs, and the warriors 
 being, we are told, " already tired of the sea," they 
 sent an offer of their services to the King of 
 England. The captain of the vessel, however, 
 would not wait for the answer to reach them, but 
 on his putting into Plymouth the whole of them landed 
 and entered the E nglish service. They were promptly 
 sent off to Warwick's army in Scotland under an ex- 
 perienced old soldier of their number called Pedro 
 Gamboa, who was made colonel, with power to 
 create his own captains. Julian Romero landed 
 with this force in some subordinate capacity, but 
 on his arrival in Scotland received his first English 
 commission as captain, from Gamboa. This was 
 in the summer of 1545, and when the winter came 
 the troops were put into quarters, whilst Gamboa 
 and his newly fledged captains came to London to 
 air their finery at Henry's Court. The King made 
 much of them, and in the early spring of 1546, a 
 temporary peace having been patched up with 
 Scotland, ordered them to take their companies to 
 the French coast between Calais and Boulogne, 
 where the English were erecting a fort. Whilst 
 Gamboa, Julian Romero, and the other new cap- 
 tains, had been ruffling at Court, receiving grants 
 and attentions from the King, the three or four old 
 Spanish commanders with their companies, who had 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 83 
 
 been long in Henry's service, had been enduring 
 hard fare and rough service, and obtaining but little 
 loot at Boulogne ; so that on the arrival in France 
 of the new men, straight from Court favour, a very 
 bitter feeling was shown towards them. One of 
 the old captains, Cristobal Mora, deserted bodily 
 with his men to the enemy, and another one, Juan 
 de Haro, was killed in attempting to do so. It 
 may therefore well be supposed that when peace 
 was made in June, 1546, and the compatriots met 
 again on neutral ground, there was a good deal 
 of thumb-biting and recrimination. Mora was 
 flouted in the streets by his fellow-countrymen 
 for having disgraced the mercenary creed by 
 deserting his paymaster before the enemy ; whilst 
 he retorted by accusing Gamboa and his friends 
 of disobeying their natural sovereign the Emperor 
 in taking service under an excommunicated 
 heretic. Events came to a head at last by the 
 deserting captain, Cristobal de Mora, sending a 
 challenge from Montreuil to Colonel Gamboa in 
 Calais in July. Either for some reason of disparity 
 of age or rank between the two, or else out of mere 
 hot-headed combativeness on the part of Julian 
 Romero, the latter accepted the challenge for his 
 chief and has left upon record an extremely minute 
 description of the fight. Sir Henry Knyvett went 
 off to obtain the King of England's permission, 
 which was gladly given, and "a thousand broad 
 angels sent to Julian to put himself in order withal." 
 The King of France ordered the erection of lists 
 at Montreuil, where the wage of battle should be 
 decided, and when all was ready Julian Romero, in 
 the full pomp of war, started on his road from Calais 
 
84 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 to Montreuil, attended by a great company of 
 English and Spanish gentlemen to see the fun. 
 The following is the account given by Julian's 
 friend. 
 
 " Well when they arrived in France and the 
 day being come the seconds and umpires saw that 
 each one had equal arms. They were to fight on 
 horseback and each one had a sword, and both 
 rapiers and daggers, and their corselets were open 
 at the back with great holes big enough for two 
 fists to go in on both pieces. This scheme was in- 
 vented by the French because Mora had one of the 
 best and quickest horses in France, and as they 
 were not to fight with the lance. Mora thought, with 
 the fleetness of his horse, he would be able to 
 wound Julian in the back with his rapier, and so 
 vanquish him. 
 
 "When the umpires had seen the arms were 
 equal they gave the signal for the trumpets to 
 sound, and the opponents at once closed with one 
 another, and, at the first blows with the swords, 
 Julian's sword fell from his hands and he seized his 
 rapier. Mora was not backward and threw away 
 his sword for his rapier ; and, as he had such an 
 active horse, he went circling round Julian so as 
 to wound him in the back. But Julian was no 
 sluggard, and when Mora saw he could not do this, 
 he decided to kill Julian's horse, which he did with 
 a thrust in the chest ; and a few moments afterwards 
 it fell to the ground. At that moment Julian, think- 
 ing to do the same for Mora, attacked him with that 
 object ; but Mora was too quick with his horse for 
 Julian to wound it, and the rapier fell from Julian's 
 hand, almost at the moment that his horse dropped 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 85 
 
 under him ; and as he felt his horse was going to 
 fall he leapt quickly off his back and Mora had not 
 time to ride him down, thanks to the horse which 
 was on the ground. Julian to escape being ridden 
 down, and finding himself armed only with his 
 dagger, was forced to shield himself behind his 
 fallen horse, whilst Mora went round and round 
 and Julian dodged behind the horse. This went on 
 for more than three hours, and at last Mora cried 
 out, ' Surrender, Julian ! I do not want to kill thee ! ' 
 but Julian did not answer a word. There was 
 hardly an hour of daylight left, and Julian would be 
 vanquished at sunset. And, as he saw that Mora 
 was strutting about waiting for the sun to go down, 
 Julian kept wide awake and, watching his oppor- 
 tunity, dropped on one knee behind his prostrate 
 horse and with his dagger cut the straps of his 
 spurs, which he threw away. Seeing his rapier not 
 far from him he made a dash to regain it, and 
 succeeded before Mora could ride him down. 
 
 "The gentleman who was acting as Julian's 
 second, seeing how things were going, was very 
 downcast and wished he never had come and said 
 to the Spanish captains : ' Gentlemen, our man is 
 losing.' Then said Captain Cristobal Diaz, ' What, 
 sir ! the day is not yet done and I still hope to God 
 that Julian will come off the victor.' ' Do you not 
 see, sir,' said the other, 'that Mora is only flourish- 
 ing about waiting for sundown ? ' As they were 
 chatting thus, they saw how Julian had snatched 
 up his rapier again, and how Mora was attacking 
 him. Julian had just time to deal a thrust at 
 Mora's horse, which, feeling itself wounded began 
 to prance, and its rider, fearing that it would fall 
 
86 JULIAN ROMERO— swashbuckler: 
 
 with him underneath it, determined to get a short 
 distance away and dismount. Julian, however, being 
 on foot and light, without his spurs, went running 
 after him, and when he was trying to dismount, 
 embraced him in such a manner as to bring him to 
 the ground, and with his dagger cut the ties of his 
 helmet. Mora then surrendered at once, and Julian 
 took his arm, and with the sword of his enemy in 
 his hand, led him three times round the field that 
 all might see how he had surrendered." 
 
 For this not very chivalrous victory Julian was 
 overwhelmed with honours, the French king, we 
 are told, casting a gold chain round his neck worth 
 more than 700 crowns, whilst the Dauphin gave 
 him a surcoat stamped with gold, worth more than 
 the King's chain ; and King Henry of England, 
 when the Spanish officers returned to England, 
 extended special favour to Julian Romero, upon 
 whom he settled a life pension of 600 ducats, which 
 was a larger sum than any of his fellows, except 
 Colonel Gamboa, who got a thousand. In any 
 case it was only paid for a few years. 
 
 If the behaviour of the combatants in the duel 
 lacked the chivalry we are apt to expect, still less 
 magnanimous was the treatment of the Spanish 
 officers towards their companies. When the peace 
 was concluded and Julian's duel fought, orders 
 came from England that the troops were to be 
 dismissed, and the mercenary captains were to 
 repair to London. The latter portion of this order 
 was concealed from the soldiers, who were told 
 by Colonel Gamboa that, as they were all dis- 
 missed from the English service, they would march 
 together and offer their services elsewhere. He 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 87 
 
 thereupon led them across the frontier into the 
 Emperor's Flemish dominions, and then with the 
 captains gave the men the slip, and left them 
 to shift for themselves. The captains hung about 
 the Court in London all the summer and autumn 
 (1546), quarrelling, gaming, and swaggering, and 
 Julian Romero, less refined and more hot-headed 
 than the rest, well nigh got into serious trouble. 
 His friend who tells the story, evidently at first 
 hand, says that he had been "showing off" very 
 much more than his means or his pay would 
 warrant, and he had borrowed money to such an 
 extent that he hardly dared to walk out publicly. 
 One of his pressing creditors was a Milanese called 
 Baptist Baron, who after much trouble managed 
 to get him arrested for a debt of 200 ducats. 
 Julian was furious with rage at the idea of being 
 haled off to jail, and persuaded the catchpole who 
 had him in custody to take him to Colonel Gamboa's 
 house, in hope that he would pay the money. 
 
 " No sooner had he arrived there, than he launched 
 into loud complaints and began to say unreasonable 
 things, amongst others, that anybody who would 
 serve heretics must be a great big knave ; and he 
 swore that he would have no more of it, but would 
 go with only a pike on his shoulder and four ducats 
 (a month) pay to serve elsewhere ; and he said 
 a good many other things that had much better 
 have been omitted, for certainly no good came of 
 them." 
 
 Gamboa made himself responsible for the money, 
 but Julian's loose talk about heretics was dangerous, 
 and the colonel, whose subsequent behaviour to the 
 other captains shows him to have been a bad-hearted 
 
88 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 man, seems to have done nothing to shield his 
 subordinate from the consequences of his indis- 
 cretion. Gamboa was himself accused at first of 
 treason by the Privy Council, for allowing such talk 
 in his house without punishment. He declared that 
 he was deaf, and did not hear what Julian had said, 
 "which," says the narrator (almost certainly the 
 "merchant " Guaras), " was the truth, as he was in 
 his chamber at the time." " The Council presently 
 sent for Julian and rated him soundly, to which Julian 
 replied : ' Gentlemen, I have said nothing for which 
 I should be so maltreated.' ' Well,' they answered, 
 ' you said this, that, and the other, and there are 
 witnesses who heard you.' But Julian denied it, 
 and they called a merchant who was present in the 
 house of the colonel and had heard everything that 
 had passed. Before this merchant went before the 
 Council, Gamboa spoke to him and begged him to 
 accuse Julian as much as he could, so that they 
 should take away his pay from him ; but the mer- 
 chant, seeing the malice of Gamboa, said, ' Senor 
 Gamboa, I am no mischief-maker to do harm where 
 I can do good,' and he would not speak to Gamboa 
 any more. The lords then sent for the merchant ; 
 all the captains as well as Julian being present, and, 
 as the merchant was going in, Gamboa said to him 
 aloud, so that all should hear, ' Sehor, I beseech 
 you to favour Julian as much as you can ; for good 
 or evil to him depends upon what you say.' Good 
 God ! how artfully Gamboa said that, when not 
 three hours before he had begged him earnestly to 
 accuse him and get his income taken away. But 
 Julian and the other captains thought that Gamboa 
 was favourable to him." The "merchant's" evidence 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 89 
 
 does not seem to have palliated the case against 
 Julian, but that perhaps was because "they made 
 him place his hands upon the Gospels, and he swore 
 to tell the truth." He said that Julian was in a rage 
 at being arrested, and shouted out some coarse ex- 
 pressions about the King and Council not caring 
 much for him, and that he would rather serve else- 
 where for four ducats than here for a mint of money. 
 "Then," said the lords, "didst thou not hear him 
 say that he would come with a pike on his shoulder 
 to fight against such heretics ? " To which the mer- 
 chant replied that the soldiers were making so 
 much noise that he did not hear well what was said. 
 The end of the matter was that, just as the'Council 
 were going to sentence Julian to punishment and 
 dismissal, Paget put in a good word for him, and got 
 him off with a severe wigging and a threat to punish 
 him severely if he let his tongue run too loosely 
 again; "whereupon Julian made no answer but 
 made a very low bow, and then they told him to go, 
 and If any one was sorry he was not dismissed it 
 was Gamboa." 
 
 A few weeks after this the trouble with Scotland 
 broke out again, and the captains were ordered to 
 raise a fresh force of Spanish men-at-arms. This 
 was not easily done at short notice, and Julian and 
 his fellow Spanish officers frankly said that they 
 could not get together men , who would do them 
 credit in the time specified, and they had no con- 
 fidence in Burgundians and others who could be 
 quickly recruited. Gamboa, however, made no diffi- 
 culty about it ; but to the great disgust of the 
 Spaniards raised a regiment of Burgundians, whom 
 he led to Scodand to take part in the siege of 
 
90 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 Haddington. On Gamboa's coming south for the 
 winter this regiment, under its ensign, Perez, de- 
 serted en masse to the enemy, for which desertion 
 Perez was hanged when the place was captured ; 
 but in the meanwhile the circumstance still further 
 widened the breach between Gamboa and the other 
 Spanish officers. The King died at the beginning 
 of the year 1547, and by the time Somerset was 
 leaving London for his short and triumphant cam- 
 paign in Scotland, plenty of Spanish and Italian 
 mercenaries had joined the standards of our captains. 
 They confessedly turned the tide of victory to the 
 English side at the battle of Pinkie by a dashing 
 flank charge under Gamboa, and a few days after- 
 wards, at the burning of Leith, they again greatly 
 distinguished themselves. Julian, of course, was in 
 the thick of it, and his friend asserts that he was 
 made an English knight after Pinkie. I can find no 
 confirmation of this, although the English authorities 
 show that after the burning of Leith the Protector 
 knighted, amongst others, on the 28th of September, 
 1547, Sir Peter Gamboa, Pero Negro, Alonso de 
 Villa Sirga, and Cristobal Diaz. 
 
 Julian remained in Scotland during the campaigns 
 of 1548-9, and took part in the relief of Hadding- 
 ton ; but Gamboa in the latter year was dismissed 
 in consequence of his unpopularity with the other 
 Spaniards and an accusation of peculation made 
 against him. Of Julian Romero we hear in all parts. 
 He and Pero Negro were in charge at Droughty 
 Ferry, near Dundee, and a few of their men made 
 a dash one day at a French general who was stroll- 
 ing a short distance from his lines, and captured him 
 in the face of his own troops before he could be 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 91 
 
 rescued. The French complained especially of 
 Julian's and Pero Negro's celerity of movement, by 
 which they were able to give them the slip, en- 
 cumbered as the French were by the unscientific 
 methods of their Scotch allies.' Warwick had the 
 help of a considerable body of Spaniards, and almost 
 certainly of Julian Romero, in his defeat of Kett's 
 rebellion in the autumn of 1 549 ; certainly in the 
 winter of that year when Warwick, with the prestige 
 of his victories upon him, thought he was strong 
 enough to strike a final blow at the Protector, 
 Julian was one of the foreign captains he took with 
 him to overawe Somerset at his levde, and to demand 
 of him in their name rich rewards for their services 
 in Scotland and elsewhere. As soon as Warwick 
 had got rid of Somerset he changed his tone. 
 England was no longer a fit place for Catholics. 
 The King, Edward VI., was known to be dying, and 
 the next heiress was a papist and half a Spaniard, 
 against whom the Spanish officers could not be 
 trusted to fight in favour of Northumberland's 
 Protestant /ri?/^^/^. So they were dismissed, those 
 that were left of them, and are thenceforward 
 swallowed up in the unfathomable abyss of the dead 
 past ; all except Julian Romero, who was reserved 
 for greater things. 
 
 There was no lack of demand for the services 
 of such men, for the Emperor, his natural sove- 
 reign, was at war with the French once more, and 
 less than two years after he left England we hear 
 of Romero again. Sir John Mason, writing to 
 
 ' Jean de Beauge, " Histoire de la guerre d'Ecosse," 1548-9. 
 Maitland Club. 
 
92 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 the English Council on the 7th of July, 1554,' 
 reports that Julian with five standards of Spaniards 
 and others was holding out against the French in 
 the castle of Dinant. He is, Sir John says, unlikely 
 to be taken ; but if he be, all the Liege country 
 must soon follow. A week afterwards Dr. Wotton 
 writes to Queen Mary 2 an account of the fall of 
 Dinant, and says : " The town and castle of Dinant 
 have been taken, the former surrendered by com- 
 position without loss of goods, the latter, wherein 
 were some Spaniards with Captain Julian, who 
 formerly served in England, made a gallant resist- 
 ance, but at last held parliament and yielded, the 
 soldiers departing with their swords by their side." 
 The Spanish historian Sandoval blames Romero 
 for his capture and the loss of Dinant, which he 
 attributes to his want of prudence in going out to 
 parley, " but rarely indeed do both valour and pru- 
 dence reside in one person, although this captain 
 afterwards proved that he possessed both qualities ; 
 for he became one of the most famous soldiers of 
 our time." Romero seems first to have attracted 
 general public notice by his bravery and dash at 
 the great battle of St. Quintin in 1557, and in the 
 contemporary poem called " La Araucana " he is 
 mentioned as one of the most conspicuous heroes 
 of the storming of the town, in command of a regi- 
 ment of Spaniards, Germans, and Walloons. For 
 the ten years that followed the peace of 1558 the 
 centre of war was changed, and the almost constant 
 struggles between Philip II. and the Turks kept 
 Italy and Sicily full of Spanish soldiers. Romero 
 
 ' Calendar of State Papers (Foreign). 
 = Ibid. 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 93 
 
 during most of the time was quartered in the 
 Milanese, whilst not before the enemy ; and in the 
 meanwhile had been promoted to the rank of 
 Maestre de Campo (colonel), but in 1567 Philip 
 took the fatal decision of grappling in a duel to the 
 death with a closer and more dangerous power than 
 the Turk — namely, that of Protestantism and 
 national freedom in his own Netherlands dominions. 
 The humble remonstrance of the Flemish nobles 
 and Egmont's visit to Madrid had convinced the 
 stealthy bigot that, if he insisted upon ruling his 
 Flemish dominions according to Spanish methods, 
 he could only do it by the ruthless power of the 
 sword. His kindly and popular sister, Margaret 
 of Parma, Flemish to the heart as she was, had 
 already shown signs of sympathy with the demands 
 of her countrymen, and was an unfit instrument 
 for Philip's new plans. There was no one but hard- 
 hearted old Alba who could be trusted to carry 
 them out to the bitter end with the needful 
 catlike cruelty. So early in 1567 the Spanish 
 troops from Milan and Naples, the Italians from 
 Savoy and Parma, the veterans who for years had 
 been fighting the infidel in the Mediterranean, were 
 set in motion to join the Duke of Alba. Julian 
 Romero was at the time in command of the regi- 
 ment of Sicily stationed in Milan under the fourth 
 Duke of Alburquerque, the son of Henry VOI's 
 military dry-nurse at Boulogne ; and he, like the 
 rest of them, led his men to Brussels. The Flemish 
 nobles were lulled into a feeling of false security. 
 Kindly messages came from Philip in Madrid. He 
 himself would come and set all things right. Alba 
 and his son flattered the shallow Egmont, and 
 
94 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 courted the distrustful Horn, whose brother 
 Montigny was kept at Madrid by specious excuses, 
 and the smiling mask was kept over Alba's grim 
 face till all was ready. 
 
 Egmont had readily accepted that fateful invi- 
 tation to dinner for the 9th of September, and 
 even Horn had been persuaded to leave the 
 security of his own country for the same purpose, 
 when late on the night of the 8th a Spanish 
 officer of apparently high rank came secretly 
 to his (Egmont's) house in disguise and signifi- 
 cantly warned him to escape at once, whilst there 
 was yet time. To the last day of her life the 
 Countess of Egmont was confident that this officer 
 was Julian Romero ; ' but, whoever he was, Egmont 
 neglected the warning and went to the feast next 
 day. Sancho de Avila posted troops in all the 
 streets leading to the house, to the wonder of the 
 townsfolk, and on the stairs of the Hotel itself 
 were stationed 200 stalwart harquebussiers under 
 Colonel Julian Romero, who himself stood at the 
 door of the room in which the treacherous arrest 
 was to be effected. 2 At the given moment Sancho 
 de Avila laid hands on Egmont, whilst Romero 
 stood by and overawed any attempt of the 
 Flemings at resistance. 
 
 At 1 1 o'clock in the morning of the 6th of 
 June of the following year, the day that the 
 Counts were to die, Julian it was who went to 
 Egmont's chamber to conduct him to the scaffold 
 on the great square in Brussels. He wished to tie 
 
 ' Motley. 
 
 = " Dociimentos ineditos para la historia de Espana," vol. 
 Ixxv. 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 95 
 
 the Count's hands, but the noble refused to be thus 
 degraded. During Egmont's last few moments he 
 turned in bitter anguish to Julian Romero and 
 asked him earnestly ^yhether the sentence was 
 irrevocable, and whether a pardon might not, even 
 now, be granted to him. Romero appeared to 
 think that the Count's courage was failing him, and 
 only answered by a contemptuous shrug of his shoul- 
 ders and a negative sign ■; whereupon Egmont gnashed 
 his teeth in silent rage and went to his death. ' 
 
 Alba's severity for the moment paralysed all 
 resistance on land, and only those " sea beggars," 
 who afterwards secured the independence of the 
 Netherlands, kept alive the tradition of Flemish 
 patriotism. Some of the Spanish troops could 
 therefore be dispensed with, particularly as Philip's 
 treasury was empty of money to pay them, and 
 many found their way back to Spain again. 
 Amongst these was Julian Romero, who had 
 married a wife of his own province a few years 
 before (1565), and yearned for a spell of family 
 joys far from war's alarms. His time of rest was but 
 a short one. He was marked out now conspicuously 
 as one of the most unscrupulous of Alba's officers, 
 who could be depended upon in any emergency, and 
 who was fanatically loyal to his sovereign and the 
 faith for which he was fighting. An instance of 
 this is given by Don Bernardino de Mendoza.^ 
 Certain soldiers under that officer were in treaty to 
 enter into the service of the King of France — not 
 a very great offence, one would think, in the eyes of 
 Julian, who had himself served the King of England 
 
 I Motley. 
 
 ^ "ComentariosdelasGuerrasdelospaisesbajos." Mendoza. 
 
96 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 — and Alba, desirous of appearing impartial, had 
 decided that the three ringleaders should be tried 
 by their own comrades, appointing Julian as presi- 
 dent of the tribunal. He sentenced them all to be 
 shot, and on the decision being submitted to Alba, 
 the latter made a long speech in praise of such 
 severity, and highly commended Romero for his 
 inflexibility. Philip was contemplating a job that 
 called for such a man as this. He had been driven 
 to desperation by Elizabeth's protection of the rebel 
 Flemish privateers, and her seizure of his treasure, 
 and had effusively welcomed Thomas Stukeley 
 when he arrived in Madrid in 1570 with proposals 
 for the invasion of Ireland and the raising of the 
 country in favour of Philip. This would, at all 
 events, keep Elizabeth's hands full, and Philip, 
 being misled as to Stukeley 's standing and influence, 
 treated him with great honour. He had a large 
 pension granted to him and a palace to reside in ; 
 he was made a Spanish knight, and Julian Romero, 
 amongst others, was invited to confer with him as 
 to the plans for the subjugation of Ireland. It was 
 decided that Romero should take command of the 
 expedition, if it were sent, and English spies soon 
 got hold of the news and communicated it to the 
 Queen. Philip was not long in finding out that 
 Stukeley was a mere windbag, and very coolly 
 got rid of him as soon as possible ; but for many 
 months after the Spanish king had abandoned the 
 idea, when indeed he was in such straits as hardly 
 to be able to hold his own, the dreaded name of 
 Julian Romero was in everybody's mouth as the 
 coming avenger of Philip's grievances against the 
 English queen and her ministers. 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 97 
 
 One zealous spy named Reynolds Digby writes 
 to Cecil from St. Jean de Luz on December 28, 
 1570, telling him of "the subtle and devilish prac- 
 tices against his country," and saying that the Duke 
 of Medina Celi and Julian Romero had already 
 embarked " a great store of ordnance for battery 
 and field, great numbers of copper ovens, baskets, 
 mattocks, and other stores, with 100 mule loads of 
 money, the object being to go to Flanders, ship 
 Alba and his army, and sail to Scotland for the 
 purpose of attacking it and seizing the King."' 
 There was no truth in it, but on the 25th of 
 January, 1571, another spy named Hogan, living 
 in Madrid, wrote saying that Romero was going 
 to Ireland with 6,000 soldiers. ^ Walsingham, in 
 Paris, reports the same news as being brought by 
 French agents from Madrid, and the Spanish 
 ambassador in England,- evidently believed it, 
 although he pretended not to do so, in his inter- 
 views with the English ministers. 3 Elizabeth her- 
 self was much alarmed, and wrote to Walsingham,4 
 telling him to see the Spanish ambassador in Paris 
 (Frances de Alava), and say "that she cannot 
 believe the news sent her that there is an intention 
 of sending Julian Romero or such like with a 
 number of soldiers to Ireland to follow some vain 
 device of these rebels, and she much wonders that 
 the King should give credit to such a man as 
 Stukeley, about whom no good can be said." The 
 haughty Don Frances ("the proudest man I ever 
 
 ' Calendar of State Papers (Foreign). 
 
 == Ibid. 
 
 3 Calendar of State Papers (Elizabeth), Spanish, vol. 11. 
 
 4 Calendar of State Papers (Foreign). 
 
98 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 met," says Walsingham) told him that he had never 
 heard of Stukeley, "and as for any attempts by 
 Julian Romero to be done in Ireland, they were 
 no Spaniards who had that enterprise in hand " — 
 which was quite true, for Philip never intended to 
 send a Spanish force, and indeed when, years 
 after, he did aid an expedition, he ordered that all 
 the commanders should be Italians.' 
 
 Philip wanted Romero for more important work 
 than aiding Stukeley's hairbrained schemes. Alba 
 was now face to face with a people in arms in 
 Holland and Zealand, under one of the greatest men 
 of his age, the Prince of Orange. Cruel severity had 
 only goaded the Netherlanders to desperation, and 
 Alba, old and ill, felt that his method had failed. 
 He was begging to be relieved from the conduct of 
 the war, and the Duke of Medina Cell was sent to 
 replace him, with Julian Romero in command of the 
 reinforcements which accompanied him. Medina 
 Cell himself never took possession of his vice- 
 royalty, for Alba was too jealous to give it up, now 
 that his health was somewhat better, and the fresh 
 troops sent enabled him to act more vigorously ; 
 but Julian Romero got to work as soon as he set 
 foot on shore. He had been partially disabled by 
 a severe wound in the leg, but landed his men at 
 the Sluys and at once joined Don Fadrique, Alba's 
 son, before Mons ; and on the 17th of July, 1572, 
 only a few weeks after he landed, he led the first 
 charge of the battle in which Fadrique beat the 
 French Huguenot force who were trying to relieve 
 Mons. Fadrique wrote to his father from the 
 battlefield in enthusiastic praise of Julian, whom 
 
 ' Calendar of State Papers (Elizabeth), Spanish, vol. ii. 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 99 
 
 he coupled with the famous Italian General Chapin 
 Vitelli, who, although severely wounded, behaved 
 with great bravery. Unfortunately rnost of 
 Genlis' troops that were captured were murdered 
 in cold blood afterwards, it is to be feared with 
 Julian Romero's full acquiescence, if nothing worse. 
 He was now an important personage since his 
 sojourn at Philip's Court, and in a letter to the King's 
 secretary, Zayas, dated before Mons, August 23, 
 1572,1 writes a full account of the state of affairs, 
 in the wording of which there are now and again 
 signs that he was still a bluff soldier. 
 
 "Holland," he says, "looks as ugly as ever, 
 Friesland no better, and Zealand much worse, but 
 I look upon it all as nothing by the side of this 
 Mons business, upon which I have set my heart. 
 If we can only stop up this hole in the frontier 
 the rest is only so much air ; although we shall 
 sweat if we are to camp before Mons all the winter, 
 for we shall have to fight on skates." Julian's fears 
 were groundless. The grim news of St. Bartholo- 
 mew convinced the citizens of Mons that no help could 
 reach them from the French Protestants, and only 
 a month afterwards — the 22nd of September, 1572 
 — Romero wrote a long account to Zayas of the 
 surrender of the devoted town, which "he says we 
 were very fortunate to get by surrender, for no 
 troops but Spaniards could have taken it, so strong 
 is it, and of Spaniards we have very few." 
 
 Then, swift and relentless as a thunderbolt, 
 
 came Alba's vengeance on the southern provinces 
 
 of Flanders, hopeless of succour now either from 
 
 Orange or the French. Every town was to 
 
 ' " Simancas Documentos ineditos," vol. Ixxv. 
 
100 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 support a Spanish garrison or be put to the 
 sword, and of all the cruel instruments for the 
 work none were so much in tune with the master- 
 mind as was Julian Romero. The rebel garrisons 
 of most of the little towns had fled, there was 
 but slight resistance, and Fadrique, on his march 
 from Zutphen to Amsterdam in November, sum- 
 moned the town of Naarden to admit the Spanish 
 troops into the place. Some demur was made to 
 this, but a few days afterwards the principal men 
 of the town were sent after Fadrique, afraid of 
 their own boldness, to discuss terms for submission. 
 They were refused an interview, and told that a 
 force had already been ordered to Naarden to com- 
 pel compliance. The citizens, panic-stricken at 
 the news, sent a deputation to offer complete un- 
 conditional submission, but before they could reach 
 Fadrique's headquarters at Bussem they met Julian 
 Romero on his way to Naarden, who told them 
 that he had full authority to treat. Arrived at the 
 town, he demanded the keys, which were sur- 
 rendered to him on his solemn promise that the 
 lives and properties of the townsfolk should be 
 respected. He gave (says Hoofd, the historian) 
 his hand thrice as a pledge of this, and no written 
 pledge was exacted of him. From what we know 
 of Julian Romero's temper we can well imagine 
 this. Romero and his 600 harquebussiers entered 
 the town and were hospitably received. A great 
 feast was spread to do them honour at Burgo- 
 master Gerrit's house. When the banquet was 
 finished Romero collected his men in the great 
 square and summoned the citizens to a conference 
 in the town hall. The bell rang, and the citizens 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. loi 
 
 came, all unsuspecting, to hear the conditions im- 
 posed upon them ; but when they were met, to the 
 number of about six hundred, in the hall, Romero 
 gave a signal at the door and his Spaniards fired a 
 volley upon the closely packed crowd of unarmed 
 men. Thenceforward the little town was a shambles ; 
 men, women, and children were all murdered 
 amidst scenes of the most heartrending atrocity, 
 and even infants were made sport of, being cast 
 by the pikemen from spear to spear. The Burgo- 
 master was roasted until he gave up all his fortune 
 as ransom, and was then hanged at his own door- 
 post in the presence of Romero and Don Fadrique, 
 who had arrived the day after the massacre. 
 Motley, who takes his account from Hoofd, has 
 not added anything to the horror of the story, and 
 it is confirmed by Alba himself in a letter to the 
 King, saying, "They cut the throats of them all, 
 soldiers and townspeople alike, without leaving a 
 single soul alive." Strada says that this massacre 
 had an entirely opposite effect to that expected. 
 It aroused such fury and hate all over Flanders and 
 Holland as to double the difficulty of Alba's task. 
 Strada makes as light of it as possible, but even he 
 says, "It really seems as if the vengeance wrought 
 exceeded the fault. All the inhabitants alike, inno- 
 cent and guilty, were killed, the houses burnt, the 
 walls razed, and it looked more like a crime than a 
 punishment." ^ 
 
 But Holland and Zealand were made of different 
 
 stuff to South Flanders, and the massacre of Naar- 
 
 den only caused Haarlem to be more obstinate in 
 
 its determination to hold out at any cost. Fadrique 
 
 ' Strada, " De Bello Belgico." 
 
I02 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 and his army were before it in the bitter winter of 
 1572, and it became necessary for him to ensure 
 an open passage between him and Utrecht, whence 
 he drew his supplies. This was interfered with by 
 a rebel fort on the outskirts of Haarlem, near the 
 opposite bank of the Sparen to that upon which 
 the road lay. This fort was flanked on two sides 
 by water — on the one side, where the river was 
 narrow, the defences were impregnable ; whilst on 
 the other flank, where the stream opened out and 
 was considered impassable, the fort was otherwise 
 undefended. Early in December spies reported to 
 Fadrique that at certain states of the tide the broad 
 water might be forded and the fort attacked by 
 surprise on its undefended side. His letter to his 
 father detailing how this was done is still at 
 Simancas.i He says that at daybreak he sent 
 Julian Romero with 400 picked harquebussiers to 
 attempt the task. Count Bossu and other ex- 
 perienced soldiers had said that it was impossible, 
 but Romero insisted upon attempting it. The 
 water reached above the knees of the men, 
 and the ice had to be broken at every step ; the 
 ford was very narrow, and a false step precipitated 
 the armed men into deep water. The men in 
 the fort discovered them and opened fire, and 
 for a full hour they thus skirmished in the frozen 
 river, when they found that a rebel force from 
 the town, equal to their own, had crossed the 
 river on the ice higher up, and were attacking 
 them from their own bank, so that they were 
 between two fires. Romero drew his men out 
 of the river, charged the new force and drove 
 ' " Documentos ineditos," vol. Ixxv. 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 103 
 
 them back over the ice again. But in their 
 flight they showed him the way across the ice as 
 well, and how by that road the undefended side 
 of the fort might be reached. With incredible 
 dash he crossed after them and stormed the fort 
 on that side, carried it with pike and musket only, 
 and, as Fadrique tells the Duke, cut the throat of 
 every man who did not escape by flight. Fadrique 
 is quite enthusiastic about Romero's share in the 
 affair. The "heretics," he says, showed surprising 
 bravery, and the fort was of enormous strength — 
 "the best I ever saw." " I thought we were fight- 
 ing beasts, but I find we have to do with men." 
 " Colonel Julian has carried himself in this action 
 as splendidly as he always does and is as eager as 
 ever to serve his Majesty. He marched for a good 
 league and half with the water over his knees, 
 skirmishing with the fort, before the Haarlem force 
 came. Just think of it, your Excellency ; marching 
 like this with such a leg as Julian's ! I can assure 
 you that a better soldier than he for dash and enter- 
 prise never came from our country. Pray thank 
 him warmly for he richly deserves it." Only a 
 few days later Julian was once more to the fore. 
 Lumay, Count de la Mark, made an attempt to 
 relieve Haarlem with a large force, but was beaten 
 by the Spaniards, "Julian with his regiment," we 
 are told by an anonymous eyewitness," "leading 
 the attack in front of every one." Encouraged by 
 this victory, the Spaniards a week afterwards — the 
 20th of December, 1572 — attempted to take the 
 place by storm, but were unsuccessful. Julian was 
 standing on a trench directing operations when a 
 ' " Documentos ineditos," vol. Ixxv. 
 
104 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 musket-shot destroyed one of his eyes, but even 
 that did not put him hors de combat for long, for 
 he writes to the Duke's secretary, Albernoz, on 
 the 13th of the next month (January, 1573) from 
 Amsterdam : " I have been impatiently expecting 
 I Han's arrival, in order that I might go to the 
 front, but if he comes not I am determined I will 
 wait no longer, but will set out to-morrow ; for I see 
 that things are now going to begin in real earnest. 
 I am pretty well, but not so well as I want to be to 
 serve Don Fadrique ; but I will do so with all my 
 poor strength, standing or falling. He has sent me 
 word that I must go and lodge in his quarters or 
 he will burn mine down over my head. I will obey 
 him in this as in all things, and although I know 
 full well I shall not lack for dainties there, I will 
 not spare you from sending me the other box of 
 marmalade you promised me, as the one you sent 
 is half gone already." 
 
 For the next six months each step in the terrible 
 siege of Haarlem is related in the letters from Don 
 Fadrique, Caspar de Robles, and Romero himself 
 Wherever fighting was going on Colonel Julian was 
 always in the front rank, and we hear of him creep- 
 ing forward from month to month nearer to the 
 devoted city as death and famine make it weaker. 
 Romero's own letter to Alba of the 25th of May, 
 1573,1 gives the best account I have read of the 
 incidents of the siege from the Spanish point of 
 view, although neither that nor any other of the 
 series I have mentioned appears ever to have been 
 utilised by historians. When at last, in July, 1575, 
 the famished heroes in the city surrendered, Julian 
 
 ' " Documentos ineditos," vol. Ixxv. 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 105 
 
 Romero was deputed to accompany Count Bossu 
 to the wood where the submission was to be 
 arranged, and himself to hold the town gate that 
 no soul should issue therefrom without due warrant. 
 
 Of the cruel massacre of the starving people 
 which followed Julian Romero does not boast, but 
 it may be not uncharitably assumed that he played 
 his usual sympathetic part in it. Certain it is that 
 no sooner was it over than Colonel Julian, with an 
 army of 4,000 men, commenced his fell march over 
 Holland. Mendoza ' says : " Julian entered by 
 the Dunes as far as the Hague, taking Catwyk, 
 Walkemburg, Wassenaer, Naeldwyk, St. Geradique, 
 Squelpewyk Noortwyk, Vlaerdingen, the fort of 
 Mansendus, where he cut the throats of St. Alde- 
 gonde and 600 men, Munster, Gravesande, &c." 
 And then he went towards Leyden, which was 
 being besieged by Valdes. Morgan, writing to 
 Lord Burleigh from Delft 2 on the 12th of Novem- 
 ber, 1575, represents the Dutch burghers as com- 
 pletely cowed for the moment by Romero's ferocity. 
 He says : "Julian with his 4,000 men is entrenched 
 half-way between the Hague and Delft, cutting off 
 all communication between the latter place and 
 Leyden." 
 
 But by this time Alba felt that cruelty had 
 failed to crush Orange and the Zealanders, sup- 
 ported as they were by England and helped by 
 the German princes ; and sated as even he was of 
 blood, he determined to give up the struggle and 
 allow another policy to be tried. Romero was tired 
 of it too, and wished to retire with his chief Alba 
 
 ' " Comentario de las Guerras de los paises bajos." 
 = Calendar of State Papers (Foreign). 
 
io6 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 himself wrote to the King from Brussels on the 15th 
 of December, 1573.' " Colonel Julian Romero has 
 served here in the way your Majesty has been 
 informed. He had returned here from Holland, 
 determined to go to Spain and beseech your 
 Majesty to allow him to rest at home, seeing 
 that he has served for 40 years. When your 
 Majesty's letter for him had been handed to him 
 and I had myself impressed upon him how much 
 he would be missed here at the present juncture, 
 he consented to send Captain Illan to Spain on his 
 private affairs, whilst he still remains in the service 
 here. I pray your Majesty to take such measures 
 for rewarding Julian's many services as they deserve. 
 I can assure you that what he has done in this 
 campaign alone places your Majesty under a deep 
 obligation to him. He is one of the most useful 
 men of his quality that I have ever known, and I 
 shall warmly welcome any mark of favour your 
 Majesty may confer upon him." 
 
 Romero's own letter to the King to accompany 
 this plainly tells how much the hard old soldier 
 yearned for rest. " I have been," he says, " in 
 your Majesty's service now in this guise for well- 
 nigh forty years, without leaving it for a single 
 hour ; my work in this campaign has been, as 
 your Majesty knows, extremely hard, and as I 
 have lost the full use of my legs, arms, and eyes, 
 I besought the Duke to give me leave to go home, 
 which he did. When I went to Brussels to take 
 leave of him a letter was handed to me from your 
 Majesty ordering me not to leave these States. I 
 obey your Majesty's orders, but the Duke and the 
 ' " Documentos ineditos," vol. Ixxv. 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 107 
 
 Grand Commander (Requesens) have given me 
 leave to send Captain Ulan to beg your Majesty 
 personally to let me go and see my home again. 
 I need greatly to go, as is proved by my asking to 
 do so now, for otherwise I would not even go if I 
 had leave. 
 
 Philip was the most ungenerous and ungrateful 
 of employers, and for reasons which presently will 
 be stated it is doubtful whether Julian's devotion 
 was rewarded as Alba recommended that it should 
 be, notwithstanding a letter in the Record Office ' 
 from one of the many false Englishmen then in 
 Spanish Flanders, written to a Captain Windebanke 
 in Elizabeth's service. The writer was trying to 
 get Windebanke to play the traitor, and deplores 
 that so good a captain should be so scurvily re- 
 warded by the Queen, whose penuriousness he com- 
 pares with Philip's (entirely imaginary) liberality. 
 " Captain Julian Romero," he says, "whom I knew 
 a poor captain in Ireland, is now worth ^2,000, 
 and has a pension of a thousand ducats." The 
 writer was probably false in his facts as he was in 
 his patriotism, for I can find no record of Julian's 
 ever having been in Ireland, and only a few months 
 after the date of the letter we have his own word 
 that he was almost in indigence. 
 
 The new Viceroy, Requesens, was to try to do 
 by conciliation what Alba had failed to effect by 
 severity. It was time to adopt a new policy, for 
 Southern Flanders was now nearly as disaffected 
 as Holland, and Zealand was entirely in the 
 hands of the Gueux. Its capital, Middleburg, 
 was held by Mondragon and his Spaniards, but 
 I Calendar of State Papers (Foreign). 
 
io8 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 he was closely beleaguered by the rebels and 
 in the direst straits. Mondragon was one of 
 the best and bravest of the commanders on the 
 Spanish side, whose heroic relief of Tergoes still 
 remains one of the brightest feats of war ever 
 performed, he had informed Requesens that, un- 
 less he were relieved with food and stores, he 
 should be forced to lay down his sword and give 
 up Middleburg to the despised " beggars of the 
 sea " ; so the new Viceroy's first duty was to send 
 aid to Middleburg and Ramua. Two fleets were 
 fitted out for the purpose in January, 1574, one 
 consisting of large ships under the famous Sancho 
 de Avila was to go by the main Scheldt and the 
 Hundt, rather for the purpose of diverting the rebel 
 force than for any other action, whilst nine standards 
 of soldiers under Romero, and a great quantity of 
 stores, were to go in a fleet of seventy-two canal 
 boats, barges, galliots, and crookstems, through the 
 narrow channels by way of Bergen-op-Zoom to 
 the besieged town. The naval commander was 
 to have been De Beauvoir, with Glimes as second 
 in command. The former fell ill, and the Viceroy 
 gave the chief control to Romero, who protested 
 that he was a soldier and not a sailor, but at 
 last consented to take the command. 
 
 The expedition began badly. Requesens came 
 to the quay of Antwerp to see it depart ; Romero's 
 flagship led the way, and as a salvo of honour 
 was fired, a gun on one of the boats burst, and the 
 craft sank with all hands. Then the leader looked 
 behind and found several of his vessels lagging. 
 Antwerp itself was riddled with disaffection, and the 
 Flemish sailors had given him the slip, so the boats 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 109 
 
 had to be left behind. Then Romero and his fleet 
 dropped down the river and anchored near Bergen, 
 opposite Romerswald, to await another tide, Re- 
 quesens, the Viceroy, proceeding to the same place 
 by road to witness the final departure of the expedi- 
 tion from Bergen. At daybreak on the 21st the 
 rebel fleet, under Boisot, Admiral of Flanders, was 
 seen to be approaching them from the open water 
 opposite. Romero's fleet was surrounded by shallows 
 and sand-banks, and largely manned by Flemish 
 sailors whose loyalty, to say the least of it, was 
 doubtful, and de dimes, seeing the danger, begged 
 his chief not to fight. Cardinal Bentivoglio ' says : 
 " The Vice- Admiral would not have fought, know- 
 ing the great disadvantage on his side. The enemy's 
 ships were many more in number, but Romero, 
 either because his valour blinded his judgment, or 
 from his want of knowledge of maritime affairs, or 
 perhaps because the risk was forced upon him by 
 Mondragon's urgent need, insisted upon fighting." 
 The disaster that followed is ascribed by Bentivoglio 
 to treachery of Romero's Flemish sailors, but, be 
 that as it may, de Glimes' ship first stranded, and 
 others immediately followed, and, thus helpless, 
 were exposed to a galling musketry fire. Captain 
 Osorio with other ships went to the aid of de 
 Glimes and immediately met with the same fate. 
 Greek fire was thrown into the Spanish vessels, and 
 many of them were burnt to the water's edge, the 
 Viceroy the while standing on the dyke helplessly 
 witnessing the destruction of his force. When de 
 Glimes, the Vice-Admiral, had been killed, and his 
 part of the fleet destroyed, the rebels, acquainted 
 ' " Guerra di Fiandra." 
 
no JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 as they were with the intricate passages, came 
 alongside of Romero's flagship, grappling with it and 
 with its consorts. Boisot's decks towered high over 
 the canal boats, and the crews shot down from their 
 superior position until nearly all the Spaniards were 
 killed, when at last a round shot crashed through 
 the timbers of the flagship, and Romero, fearing she 
 was foundering, jumped overboard on the land side 
 with his few surviving comrades. He came up 
 spluttering and floundering within a few feet of the 
 Viceroy, who stood upon the bank. As he dragged 
 himself up the dyke he blurted out with a voice as 
 vigorous as when he was giving the command to 
 charge, " I told your Excellency how it would 
 be ! You knew I was no sailor but a foot 
 soldier and nothing else. No more fleets for 
 me ; if you gave me a hundred I should probably 
 lose them all." Requesens gave a graceful and 
 generous answer, but the blow was a heavy one for 
 the Spanish power, for Middleburg and Ramua 
 surrendered to the rebels, and henceforward for 
 ever Zealand was lost to King Philip.' Seven 
 hundred of the Spanish force were killed, as was 
 Boisot, the Flemish admiral, and Romero's ship, with 
 all his papers and instructions, fell into the hands 
 of the enemy. 
 
 Romero was sick at heart. Requesens' mild 
 temporising looked to Alba's iron lieutenant like 
 lamentable weakness. There was only one way for 
 Julian to meet heresy and the assertion of inde- 
 
 ' The account of this disaster is taken from three con- 
 temporary accounts — Mendoza's " Comentarios de la Guerra 
 de Ids paises bajos " ; Strada's " De Bello Belgico," and 
 Bentivoglio's " Guerra di Fiandra." 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER, iii 
 
 pendence, and that was by extermination. Philip 
 apparently had sent him no rewards, or even thanks, 
 for his staying after Alba left, and had simply 
 ignored his prayer for leave to return home. This 
 was nothing new, for the King always treated his 
 most faithful servants thus, but bluff Julian probably 
 did not know this at the time, and was bitterly dis- 
 appointed. After his defeat at Bergen he busied 
 himself for some months in planning fortifications 
 and re-organising the forces, which Requesens had 
 found in a state of almost open mutiny for want of 
 pay. By the end of June his task was done, and 
 affairs in South Flanders were looking much more 
 tranquil. No answer came from Madrid to Julian, 
 who, sick and mortified, counted the hours for the 
 time when he might see his home again. In June 
 he wrote an interesting letter to the Viceroy, which 
 deserves to be repeated nearly in full. After recom- 
 mending the names of five officers for the future 
 command of the forces he says : ' "I must now 
 address you with my customary frankness and clear- 
 ness, and disabuse your mind, for once and for all, 
 of the idea that any offers or promises from his 
 Majesty, or any one else, will make me waver in my 
 determination to return home next September. 
 Nothing but my own death shall stand in the way 
 of this, so urgent is my need to go ; since my soul's 
 health and the welfare of my wife and children 
 depend upon it, and the least of these reasons would 
 be sufficient to make me firm in my resolve. I have 
 long wished to go but have deferred it because my 
 services here were so much required. I very un- 
 willingly consented to stay when the Duke of Alba 
 I " Documentos ineditos," vol. Ixxv. 
 
112 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 left ; with the sole object of being by your Excel- 
 lency's side whilst you were new to your position. 
 I have been well repaid by the pleasure of knowing 
 you and would still serve you with all love and 
 zeal, but the moment now has arrived beyond which 
 I cannot, and will not, stay. You may judge whether 
 I need go when I say that I have served his 
 Majesty 40 years next Christmas without once 
 resting from the wars and my duty. I have lost 
 in the service an arm, a leg, an eye, and an ear ; and 
 the rest of my person is so seared with wounds that 
 I suffer incessantly. I have now just lost a dear 
 son upon whom I built all my hopes — and with 
 good reason as the whole army will bear witness. 
 You will judge whether such troubles as these are 
 not enough to break down my health and spirits. 
 Moreover I married nine years ago, thinking that 
 I might have some rest, but since then I have 
 never been an entire year at home. I have spent 
 during my service nearly all the money I had with 
 my wife, and although I have a daughter at home, 
 and one here of marriageable age, I can do nothing 
 to help them ; except with the trifle still left of my 
 wife's money. I can, moreover, see plainly that 
 this is being exhausted by me at such a rate, that 
 unless I can get home at once, both my wife and 
 myself will have to end our days in the poor-house. 
 You are so christian a prince that I feel sure you 
 will not try to hinder my resolution, for, believe 
 me, it is not for the purpose of exalting or selling 
 myself at a higher price that I urge it. If when I 
 have been home the King still thinks I may be 
 useful, I will try with all my heart, but it must be 
 in some place where I may set up my home and 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 113 
 
 have my wife by my side, for without her, all the 
 world shall not make me stir. I think I have 
 already well deserved by my sufferings and long 
 service any favours his Majesty has conferred upon 
 me. 
 
 To this affecting and dignified letter the Viceroy 
 replied saying that he would no longer stand in the 
 way. He had written four or five times already to 
 the King, urging him to fitly reward Julian's great 
 services, and had reason to believe that something 
 would shortly be done, but he had again written in 
 the most pressing terms begging the King not to 
 neglect so good and true a servant. A day or two 
 afterwards Romero again wrote to the Viceroy 
 another manly letter, which shows how bitterly he 
 felt the King's indifference to him. He says: 
 " With reference to your Excellency's kindness in 
 begging his Majesty to reward me, I am constrained 
 to beseech that no further great effort should be 
 made. I will endeavour to pass the few years left 
 to me as decently as I can, and if I cannot have 
 everything I desire I am already as reconciled to 
 leave it all as one who has the candle in his hand. 
 God is my witness that I have never served the 
 King for lucre ; no, that has never been my target ! 
 True it is that I am cut to the heart to see his 
 Majesty extend his favours to others, who were 
 suckling at the breast when I was already a veteran, 
 whilst he forgets me, but this I lay to my ill luck 
 and to God's will that I should remain a poor man. 
 But naked I was born ; I have lived honourably 
 and I care for naught else. Pray therefore, trouble 
 yourself no further on my account. I trust before 
 my departure hence God will settle the affairs of 
 
 9 
 
114 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 these States. At this season of the year there is 
 httle stirring, and if when I have been home and 
 set my house in order, your Excellency should 
 remain in your present straits ; I pledge my word as 
 a Christian to come and serve again with all my 
 strength. If I were a batchelor and as hale as I 
 used to be, you should see what I would do. 
 Worcum, June 27, 1574." 
 
 If Romero's desire of seeing his home again was 
 fulfilled, as it probably was, his visit must have been 
 of short duration, for in October of the next year 
 he was commanding thirty standards of troops before 
 Zerusee, and endeavoured to capture an island near 
 Dortrecht, but was beaten by the Prince of Orange 
 himself with the loss of 800 men.i 
 
 Early in the following year things had reached 
 an acute stage. Requesens was dead, and Don 
 Juan of Austria, his successor, had not arrived. 
 The mercenaries in the Spanish service, unpaid 
 and chafing at inaction, were in open mutiny, 
 and were plundering and maltreating friends and 
 foes indifferently to indemnify themselves. The 
 Council of State, mostly Flemish and Walloon 
 nobles, were profoundly divided, and already were 
 doing their best to hold their own against the 
 savage Spanish soldiery. Brussels was held by 
 Walloon troops in the interests of the Council 
 of State, the Spanish troops in the neighbour- 
 hood being under the command of Romero. By 
 the middle of March the Council were obliofed 
 to meet and devise some means of pacifying the 
 mutineers by raising money to pay them, " with- 
 out which many strange seditions must happen." 
 ' Calendar of State Papers (Foreign). 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 115 
 
 They agreed with Romero to pay certain soldiers 
 forty crowns each, to satisfy them until the 
 arrival of the new Governor, and then sent him 
 to parley with the mutineers. Strada says they 
 would not listen to him, but in any case most 
 of his men fraternised with and joined them. 
 On his return to Brussels he was agfain sent 
 by the Council against the rebel Spaniards who 
 had gone towards Maestricht. English agents 
 in Flanders ' report that he had arranged a plot 
 to be carried out in his absence. He had left 
 200 of his men in Brussels, and the plan was 
 for Count Barlemont, one of the Council, to deliver, 
 the keys of the city to them, in order that the muti- 
 neers, and probably Romero with them, should 
 enter the city and sack it. The plot was discovered, 
 and Barlemont deprived of the keys, and after 
 Romero had fruitlessly been to Maestricht, he found 
 on his return to Brussels the citizens in a frenzy 
 of rage against the Spaniards in consequence of the 
 massacres at Alost and elsewhere by the mutineers. 
 The infuriated Flemings tore to pieces a servant of 
 Jerome Rodas, the leading Spanish councillor, and 
 the latter, with Romero and Vargas, had to fly for 
 their lives to the stronghold in the palace. Hence- 
 forward the Flemish Council and the Spaniards 
 were completely estranged. The Council proclaimed 
 the mutineers rebels against the King, whilst Rodas 
 assumed to be Philip's sole representative. 
 
 Philip was in deep distress at the news.2 Romero 
 was to be warmly thanked, the Council must dis- 
 
 ^ Herll to Burleigh, Rogers to Walsingham, and Harise to 
 Burleigh. Calendar of State Papers (Foreign). 
 
 "^ Philip to Rodas. Calendar of State Papers (Foreign). 
 
ii6 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 band their forces, money would be sent, Don Juan 
 would soon arrive, and all would be settled. In the 
 meantime, however, the forces of the Council were 
 attacking the mutineers at Ghent, Maestricht, Alost, 
 and elsewhere, and the Spanish commanders, Sancho 
 de Avila, Romero, Vargas, &c., whilst ostensibly 
 condemning them, were constrained daily to side 
 more with their fellow-countrymen. Romero at 
 last escaped from Brussels and fortified himself at 
 Lierre, where a considerable force gradually joined 
 him. The Council sent word that they would 
 attack him if he did not submit to their authority, 
 but when they attempted to do so his force, with 
 that of Vargas, routed the States troops. The 
 massacre which followed is explained by Mendoza 
 by the fact that the Spaniards were hot-headed 
 youngsters, which they were not, but he is evidently 
 ashamed of it. A large number of spectators, 
 students from Louvain and others, had come out to 
 see the fight. They were all slaughtered, as were 
 soldiers and civilians, armed and unarmed, men and 
 women, without quarter and without mercy, up to 
 the very gates of Louvain. Thenceforward all hope 
 of restraint was lost. The Spanish soldiery were 
 so many bloodthirsty wild beasts, making no dis- 
 tinction between Flemish friends or foes, and it was 
 war to the knife on both sides. Romero's head- 
 quarters were still at Lierre, although he kept up 
 a close connection with the mutineers at Alost, and 
 his men seem to have outdistanced others in their 
 savagery, no attempt to moderate which appears to 
 have been made by their chief Savage Rodas 
 himself got frightened in October, and wrote to the 
 King that the Spanish soldiers were pillaging on 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 117 
 
 all sides, and if some remedy were not sent soon 
 from Spain, all would go to perdition. ' 
 
 Wherever Romero had a chance of fighting the 
 States forces he did so, and Mendoza gives par- 
 ticulars of many brilliant skirmishes in which the 
 Spaniards were successful, but which usually ended 
 in an indiscriminate massacre of Flemings. Sancho 
 de Avila in the Antwerp citadel the while was 
 keeping up a close communication with the muti- 
 neers at Alost, Ghent, and other places, whilst 
 the citizens were collecting such forces of Walloons 
 and German mercenaries as they could. Sancho 
 at last was informed that unless he ceased to 
 send aid to Alost he himself would be held as a 
 rebel to the King. This was a signal that he must 
 either submit to the dictation of the despised 
 Flemish Council or fisfht, and he chose the latter 
 alternative. He sent out messengers on all sides 
 for the Spaniards to concentrate in Antwerp, and 
 soon Romero started out from Lierre with all his 
 men. On his way he met the main body of mal- 
 contents from Alost and greeted them with effusion. 
 Vargas with his men joined them also, and on 
 the 4th of November they all entered the citadel 
 of Antwerp together. The townsmen and their 
 troops had already begun to run up earthworks 
 to defend themselves against the bloodthirsty 
 marauders who had made a shambles of Alost, 
 Maestricht, and wherever else they had gained the 
 upper hand. The rich booty of Antwerp, and the 
 thirst for blood, they knew would launch the greedy 
 hawks from the citadel upon the panting quarry 
 
 ' Rodas to Philip (intercepted). Calendar of State Papers 
 (Foreign). 
 
ii8 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 below, and they determined to sell their lives and 
 property dearly. Hungry and tired as the Alost 
 men were on their arrival at daybreak, no meal 
 would they consume until, as they said, they could 
 break their fast in Antwerp. Slaking their thirst 
 and firing their brains only with wine, by eleven 
 o'clock before noon they were ready for the struggle. 
 Then with solemn prayer and blessing of banners 
 as a preparation for their fell work, they swept down 
 in three bodies to the town to the aggregate number 
 of about 6,000 men. The scene that followed has 
 often been described, and need not be repeated 
 here. In a few hours the richest city in Christen- 
 dom was a ravished corpse of its former self. 
 Romero, with his stalwarts of Spaniards and Almains, 
 entered the city by the St. George's gate and swept 
 along the street of St. Michael, driving weak young 
 Egmont before him into a church at the end, where 
 the Count was taken. 
 
 Everywhere the Walloons turned and fled 
 before the Spaniards. The brave Champigny, 
 Granvelle's brother, did his best heroically ; the 
 townsmen, unused to arms, made what resistance 
 they could, but the States troops were worse 
 than useless, and butchery was the only order of 
 the day. In the great square every house was 
 occupied by Sancho de Avila's men, who kept 
 up a fusilade upon the frightened crowds of un- 
 armed people huddled together in the doorways. 
 Soon the curling smoke showed that the rich stores 
 of merchandise, the noble palaces of the merchant 
 princes, and the lowly cottages of the artisans were 
 alike doomed to wanton destruction. The Spaniards, 
 drunk with blood, blind with rage, spared neither 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 119 
 
 age, sex, nor faith ; and with one great gust of fury- 
 swept like a blight over the doomed city. When 
 the blood-lust was partly sated, it was found that 
 6,000 unarmed people at least had been slaughtered, 
 and 6,000,000 ducats worth of property stolen, with 
 as much again burnt. The States infantry had all 
 fled or been killed. The Catholic Flemish nobles 
 were scattered and lost, and the Spaniards had 
 Antwerp beneath their talons. Strada says that 
 the massacre and plunder were as much the work 
 of the Walloons and Germans as of the Spaniards, 
 and bears testimony to the efforts of the Spanish 
 leaders to restrain the fury of their men, mentioning 
 Sancho de Avila, Mondragon, and others as having 
 exerted their influence to that end, but markedly 
 omits the name of Romero. Rodas, writing to the 
 King a day after the fight, says the town was sacked 
 against orders, and that Avila, Romero, and Vargas, 
 used great diligence to stop plunder. " They 
 deserve," he says, " well of his Majesty for the 
 services they have rendered in this great victory." 
 Dr. Wilson, who certainly was not prejudiced in 
 favour of the Spaniards, says, on the other hand, 
 in a letter to Walsingham of the 13th of November,' 
 that he fears the Spaniards much less than the 
 English refugfees, "who are said to have done the 
 greatest murders and most horrible above all others, 
 and all Englishmen are hated for their sake." 
 
 Flemings of every faith were welded together 
 now against the wreckers of their homes, and even 
 those nobles who, through all the evil past had 
 stood by Spain, the Perennots, the Croys, the 
 Montmorencis, the Zweveghems, were at one with 
 ' State Papers (Domestic). 
 
120 JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 
 
 the Protestants of the North. Don Juan found 
 himself, when he arrived, in face of a united 
 people glowing with indignation, and determined 
 to prevent the destruction of its liberties, strong 
 enough now to force terms upon him. The first 
 demand of the Flemings was that all Spaniards 
 should withdraw from Flanders, and the second 
 that Rodas, Avila, and Romero should lose their 
 heads for their share in the massacres. To the first 
 demand the Prince was forced to accede, with the 
 second he fenced diplomatically ; and soon Romero 
 was on the march at the head of his men going 
 from Flanders to Italy with the curses of all 
 Flemings following him. 
 
 Don Juan could not brook for long the dicta- 
 tion and exactions of the Council, he took the bit 
 between his teeth, seized the citadel of Namur, 
 defied them all to do their worst, and made up his 
 mind to fight it out in spite of the King's 
 orders. Then the veteran forces, by which Alba 
 had crushed the Low Countries, the bloodthirsty 
 savages who had ravished them before, were once 
 more recalled from Italy, late in 1577. Romero 
 was designated for the chief command of an army 
 of 6,000 men which were to act subsequently under 
 Alexander Farnese in Flanders. He was starting 
 on his march from Cremona at the head of his force, 
 when the war-worn old soldier, without a moment's 
 warning, fell from his horse, dead. He breathed his 
 last as he had lived, full-armed and harnessed for the 
 fray, surrounded by the fierce soldiery he had led so 
 often. Strada says his death caused the deepest 
 grief, as he was looked upon as the mainstay of the 
 new attempt to dominate the Flemings. Another 
 
JULIAN ROMERO— SWASHBUCKLER. 121 
 
 contemporary historian, Cabrera de Cordova, wrote 
 of him, "his loss caused profound sorrow by reason 
 of the urgent need for his valour and experience, 
 which had enabled him to rise from a common soldier 
 to be a general, whilst his prowess and knowledge of 
 war well deserved the last promotion to the rank in 
 which he died, namely, that of commander-in-chief 
 of great enterprises." 
 
 For some years even after his death his name 
 was used to threaten England with, and the 
 presence of another younger Captain Julian with 
 the Spanish auxiliaries to the Irish rebellion of 
 1579-80 gave rise to many trembling rumours that 
 the terrible Romero himself was there. 
 
 But he is forgotten now, even in his own country ; 
 the cause he fought for, the supremacy of Catholi- 
 cism, has been beaten everywhere but in Spain, where 
 stern intolerance, and indifference to personal suffer- 
 ing still linger as things to be proud of. It has 
 seemed to me, however, that the devotion, the 
 valour, and the self-sacrifice of the rough soldier 
 who rose to be " commander-in-chief of great enter- 
 prises," dimmed though they be by cruel ferocity, 
 might well be rescued in this gentler age from the 
 oblivion in which they lay so long. 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
PHILIP AND MARY. 
 (After the painting by Antonio Mor.) 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE 
 PRUDENT^ 
 
 Ix^is somewhat curious that English historians, in 
 describing an event fraught with such tremendous 
 possibilities to Christianity as the coming of the 
 Spanish prince to wed Mary of England, should 
 have entirely overlooked a source of information 
 which was more likely than any other to abound in 
 interesting and trustworthy details of the voyage — 
 I mean the contemporary narratives of Spaniards 
 who accompanied Philip hither. So far as regards 
 the splendid pageantry that marked the new con- 
 sort's entrance into London the English records 
 themselves leave nothing to be desired. Darnley's 
 tutor, John Elder, in his letter to his pupil's uncle, 
 the Bishop of Caithness, 2 descends to the minutest 
 particulars, and is amply confirmed- by the anony- 
 mous Chronicle of Queen Mary in the Harleian 
 manuscripts, whence John Stow derived his informa- 
 
 ' The English Historical Review, April, 1892. 
 = This curious and rare tract was reprinted by the Camden 
 Society, 1849, and is the groundwork of Foxe's and HolHngs- 
 
 hed's accounts of the events related therein. 
 
 123 
 
126 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 tion ; by Edward Underhyll, " the hot-gospeller " ; ' 
 and the letters of the French ambassador, Antoine de 
 Noailles.2 The gorgeous ceremonies that attended 
 the marriage in Winchester Cathedral are also suffi- 
 ciently described by these and other authorities, as 
 well as in the official account of the English heralds 
 of the time, copied from the Book of Precedents of 
 Ralph Brooke, York herald, and printed in Leland's 
 "Collectanea," edit. 1774, and by the Camden 
 Society, 1849 ; 3 but the accounts given by English 
 historians of Philip's voyage and reception at 
 Southampton appear to rest entirely upon a 
 narrative of the Venetian, Baoardo, published in 
 Venice in 1558, four years after the event, and 
 the letters of Noailles to the King of France. 
 Miss Strickland and the late Mr. Froude, both 
 of whom draw upon Baoardo to a large extent 
 for their local colour, quote him as an eyewitness 
 of the scenes he describes. Whether he was so 
 or not I do not know, although I have been 
 unable to discover any evidence of his presence, 
 but in any case the bitter animus against Philip 
 shown in his narrative is so clear that it is unfair to 
 accept his statements without ample confirmation. 
 Such confirmation seems to have been sought, 
 
 ' Edward Underhyll was one of the gentlemen pensioners, 
 and his quaint narrative of the accession of Mary and the 
 subsequent events, now amongst the Harleian manuscripts, 
 was largely used by Strype and others. 
 
 ^ Ambassades de Noailles. Leyden, 1763. 
 
 3 To these may be added the slight but interesting narra- 
 tive existing in manuscript at Louvain, and printed by Tytler 
 in his " Edward VI and Mary," and the letters of the Vene- 
 tian ambassador in Flanders to the Doge and Senate, for 
 which see Calendar of State Papers (Venetian) of the date in 
 question. 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 127 
 
 by Mr. Froude at all events, in the letters of 
 the French ambassador, and from this material, 
 coupled with the fact that certain prudent measures 
 of precaution were suggested by Simon Renard, 
 the Emperor's ambassador, in his letters to his 
 master, the historian paints his highly coloured 
 picture of Philip as a sulky, seasick craven 
 trembling at his very shadow, in momentary 
 fear of poison, consummating a sacrifice from 
 which his soul revolts. To justify this view 
 Professor Froude depended mainly upon Noailles. 
 It must, however, be remembered, first, that the 
 French ambassador was not in a position to know 
 the exact details of Philip's voyage and reception ; 
 secondly, that he was the last person in the world to 
 give a fair account of them ; thirdly, that the his- 
 torian has gone beyond his authority, even such as 
 it was ; and fourthly, that several witnesses of the 
 events described, whose evidence has hitherto been 
 ignored, entirely fail to confirm the view taken by 
 Mr. Froude from Noailles and Baoardo. 
 
 Throughout the whole negotiations that had 
 preceded the arrangement of the marriage Noailles 
 had been absurdly ill-informed and wide of the 
 mark. I His letters to the King of France and 
 the Constable teem with predictions and asser- 
 tions which subsequent events proved to be quite 
 wrong, and it is easy to see that for months 
 
 ' He was equally at sea at the beginning of Mail's reign, 
 when he vigorously aided Northumberland's conspiracy to 
 place Lady Jane Grey on the throne, and repeatedly told his 
 master that Mary's cause was an absolutely hopeless one. On 
 the ignominious collapse of Dudley, Noailles excused his own 
 want of prescience by saying that nothing but a direct miracle 
 from heaven could have brought about such a change. 
 
128 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 previous to the marriage he was entirely hood- 
 winked, and out of touch with trustworthy sources 
 of information. In a letter to the French adviser 
 of Mary of Lorraine in Scotland, M. d'Oysel, 
 dated 29th of March, 1554, for instance, he 
 speaks of the Earl of Bedford's departure for 
 Spain as an accomplished fact, and has no doubt 
 that he had already sailed from Plymouth to fetch 
 the Prince. On May i8th, after ringing the 
 changes upon this for nearly two months, he tells 
 the King that the rumour runs that Bedford is to go 
 shortly to Spain, but that the Prince will not come 
 until the winter, whereas Philip had already left 
 Valladolid at the time on his way to England. On 
 the 31st of March Noailles is quite persuaded that 
 Wyatt's life will be spared, and less than a fortnight 
 later he describes his execution. On the 29th of 
 March, again, he says that the Bishop of Norwich, 
 the Queen's ambassador to the Emperor, had been 
 summoned to perform the marriage, and was to be 
 created Archbishop of York for the purpose. 
 Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, really performed 
 the ceremony. Noailles again is quite sure that 
 other Wyatts will arise, and that 50,000 men will be 
 in arms to receive the Prince, and in April, after 
 writing for weeks of the preparations for the arrival 
 of Philip on the south coast and marriage at Win- 
 chester, he believes it all to be a feint and that the 
 Prince will suddenly appear and be married in Lon- 
 don. On the 29th of the same month he is strongly 
 of opinion that Sir James Crofts will be executed 
 on the following Monday, whereas that distinguished 
 old soldier lived and fought and sold himself for many 
 years afterwards. Hardly a letter, indeed, from 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 129 
 
 Noailles at this period fails to show that the man, 
 having been completely outwitted by Renard's 
 keen diplomacy, was entirely at sea, and badly 
 served by his informers. 
 
 But I go beyond this. Philip had anchored in 
 Southampton Water on the afternoon of the 19th 
 of July, 1554, and landed on that of the 20th. 
 On the night of the 20th, after the Prince had 
 landed, Noailles learnt in London, by an imperial 
 messenger, for the first time of his arrival, and 
 communicated the news to the King of France 
 immediately by letter ; and on the 23rd he writes : — 
 
 " J'ai envoy^ ung des miens d Hamptonne et a 
 Winchestre et despescheray demain encores ung 
 aultre pour estre mieulx par mesme inform^ de tout 
 ce qui se fera tant a la terre que sur la mer . . . 
 afiSn de tenir advertye vostre majeste." 
 
 It is clear, therefore, that Noailles had no trust- 
 worthy person to give an exact account of the 
 reception of the Prince until the arrival of the latter 
 at Winchester ; and the description in his letters of 
 Philip's voyage and doings at Southampton was 
 merely current gossip dressed up to suit the palate 
 of the writer and his master.' How much Impar- 
 tiality could be expected from Noailles under the 
 
 ' I am of course aware that the ambassador had previously 
 sent his brother Fraiifois de Noailles to request the Queen 
 to stand godmother to his newly born son, but Francois only 
 arrived at Winchester from London on the day the Queen 
 received news of the arrival of the Prince off the Isle of 
 Wight, which could not have been earlier than the 19th, 
 and was back in London again in time for the child to be 
 christened, with the Countess of Smxey as the Queen's proxy, 
 on the 22nd, which would certainly leave him no time to 
 go to Southampton to witness the landing. See " Ambassades 
 de Noailles," iii. 282. 
 
 10 
 
130 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 circumstances may well be imagined. He had been 
 thoroughly outmanoeuvred, and French diplomacy 
 had received a greater blow than it had sustained 
 for many years in seeing England drift apparently 
 for good into the arms of Spain. His country was 
 at the very moment engaged in a long and costly 
 war with the Emperor, and he himself had just been 
 detected and exposed for the second time in his 
 attempts to suborn and support rebellion in England, 
 and was in high dudgeon at being pointedly excluded 
 from participation in the marriage festivities. What 
 wonder, then, that after slandering the Queen for 
 months past he should do as much as possible to 
 darken the shadows of the picture of Philip sent 
 for the delectation of Philip's enemy ? It were ex- 
 pecting too much to suppose that the outwitted 
 diplomatist and supple courtier would do otherwise. 
 Ill-natured, however, as are Noailles' references 
 to Philip, even they do not, in my opinion, warrant 
 the distorted picture inferentially derived from them. 
 To instance a small matter of which much is made 
 by Froude — namely, the vivid scene of the sea- 
 sick Prince gulping down beer on the night of his 
 arrival at Southampton, to please the English spec- 
 tators at his public repast — Noailles says not a word 
 about Philip's being ill or seasick, nor do any other 
 chroniclers of the time, that I am aware of The 
 only foundation for the story seems to be a remark 
 contained in a letter from the Earl of Bedford and 
 Lord Fitzwalter from Santiago (Calendar of State 
 Papers, Foreign) to the effect that, "as the Prince 
 suffers much at sea, it will be well to make prepara- 
 tions for him to land at Plymouth, or other port on 
 the south coast if necessary." 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 131 
 
 The voyage was a beautifully calm one, and 
 the Prince had remained on board the Espiritu 
 Santo, at anchor in Southampton Water, for 
 twenty hours at least before he landed ; and, 
 instead of the dramatic scene at his public supper 
 described by Froude, his repast was a private 
 one ; and according even to Noailles, who is alone 
 responsible for the story, after supper, in the 
 presence chamber, Philip told his Spanish courtiers 
 that in future they must forget the customs 
 of their country and live like Englishmen, and 
 " when, according to the English fashion, a quantity 
 of wine, beer, and ale was brought in silver flagons, 
 he took some beer and drank it " — a very simple 
 and appropriate compliment to his new country ; but 
 even Noailles tells the story without a hint of the 
 loathing of unwilling sacrifice with which Froude 
 invested the perfectly natural scene. 
 
 Having thus far spoken of the authorities upon 
 which English historians have hitherto based their 
 descriptions of the coming of Philip the Prudent, 
 and pointed out a few of what I venture to think 
 their obvious shortcomings, I will mention some 
 other contemporary narratives which may well, it is 
 true, sin just as much on the score of partiality, but 
 at any rate afford a view of the events recorded 
 that has hitherto been almost entirely ignored — 
 namely, the view taken by those Spaniards who 
 accompanied their Prince in his voyage to England 
 in quest of his eager but elderly bride. " 
 
 ' Mr. Prescott is the only historian writing in the EngHsh 
 language who refers to Spanish accounts at all, and his refer- 
 ence is confined to a single mention of Cabrera's bald and 
 stolid history and one or two quotations from Sepulveda, who 
 appears to have derived what little information he gives from 
 
132 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 Amongst the five hundred courtiers and servants, 
 besides soldiers, who accompanied Philip to Eng- 
 land, several would naturally be able and disposed 
 to put upon record, for transmission to their friends 
 in Spain, full narratives of the great events they 
 witnessed — events, be it said, which had deeply 
 stirred the public imagination of Spaniards, who had 
 been taught to believe that the marriage of their 
 prince in England would mean not only the mastery 
 of their country over France, but the restoration of 
 all Christendom to the true faith. These letters, in 
 a period when newspapers were not, would fre- 
 quently be printed and circulated by enterprising 
 booksellers, and no doubt many of such news- 
 letters, both in print and manuscript, are still hidden 
 in bundles and volumes of miscellaneous papers in 
 the public and private libraries in the Peninsula. 
 One curious manuscript letter, written from Win- 
 chester by Juan de Barahona to Antonio de Bara- 
 hona, was found in the library of the Escorial fifty 
 years ago, and published in the first volume of the 
 " Documentos ineditos para la Historia de Espaiia " 
 in 1842. The manuscript had belonged to the con- 
 temporary chronicler Florian de Ocampo, and gives 
 an extremely full account of the voyage, reception, 
 and marriage, abounding in curious details of the 
 life, dress, and manners of the time. In referrinof 
 to this narrative in the following pages I shall dis- 
 tinguish it as narrative No. i. 
 
 one of the narratives now before me. Simon Renard's letters 
 to the Emperor in the Granvelle papers are naturally also 
 referred to by most historians of the period in question, but, 
 important as they are from many points of view, they only 
 give a purely official and diplomatic account, and are Flemish 
 and imperial rather than Spanish and personal in their interest. 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 133 
 
 Many years later there was discovered in the 
 BibHoteca Nacional a record which, to Spaniards at 
 least, was much more valuable and interesting. It 
 was a printed tract entitled " Summary and 
 Veracious Relation of the Happy Voyage made by 
 the U-nconquered Prince of the Spains, Don Felipe, 
 to England, and his Reception in Vinchester, where 
 he was married, with his Departure for London ; 
 in which are contained the great and marvellous 
 things that happened at that time. Dedicated to 
 the Most Illustrious Lady Donna Luisa Enriquez 
 de Giron, Countess of Benavente, by Andres 
 Mufioz, Servant to his Serene Highness the Infante 
 Don Carlos. Imprinted in (^aragoca, in the house 
 of Esteban de Najera, 1554, at the cost of Miguel 
 de (^apila, bookseller." The author was a lackey 
 to the unhappy Don Carlos, then a child, and his 
 own personal observation is confined to the elabo- 
 rate preparations for Philip's voyage made in the 
 city of Valladolid and the journey of the little prince 
 to Benavente, in Castile, to take leave of his father. 
 What he saw and heard he relates with a trivial 
 minuteness of detail, particularly as to the persons 
 who were to accompany Philip and the clothes they 
 took with them, which to an ordinary reader would 
 be tedious in the extreme. But although his own 
 share in the voyage ended at Benavente, whence 
 Don Carlos returned to Valladolid, Mufioz ap- 
 parently made arrangements with some member of 
 the suite — no doubt of similar rank to himself — to 
 send him particulars from England, and his account 
 is therefore carried down to the departure of Philip 
 and Mary for London after their marriage. This 
 is by far the fullest account known, especially as to 
 
134 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 the events prior to Philip's embarkation ; but the 
 writer's position naturally caused him to dwell 
 mainly upon the sartorial aspect of things which 
 came under his observation, and he describes the 
 splendour and pageantry rather as a spectator than 
 as an actor. I shall call Mufioz's narrative No. 2. 
 
 About the same time as the discovery of Mufioz's 
 letter three other letters, which in my opinion are 
 even more valuable, because of the position of the 
 supposed author, were found in the Escorial library. 
 The first is a printed tract in the form of a diary and 
 is entitled " Transcript of a Letter sent from Eng- 
 land to this City of Seville, in which is given a 
 Relation of the Events of the Voyage of our Lord 
 the Prince Don Philip, from his Embarkation in 
 the Corufia, a Port of Spain, to his Marriage to the 
 Serene Queen of England. 1554-" The book 
 bears the well-known device, although not the 
 name, of the celebrated Sevillian printer Andres de 
 Burgos. In the same library was found a manu- 
 script letter taking up the narrative where the last- 
 mentioned tract ended — namely, after the marriage 
 at Winchester at the end of July — and carrying it 
 to August 19th, when the Court was at Richmond. 
 No printed copy of this continuation is known to 
 exist, but it is almost certainly written by the same 
 hand, and contains many remarks and opinions 
 which would probably have been suppressed if the 
 letter had been published. A continuation of this, 
 again, was also found in the Escorial, written ap- 
 parently by the same person, bringing the narrative 
 down to October 2nd, and is dated from London, 
 where the King and Queen then were. These three 
 letters, which I shall distinguish by the numbers 3, 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 135 
 
 4, and 5, were published, together with Mufioz's 
 narrative (No. 2), by the Society of BibHophiHsts of 
 Madrid in 1877, under the editorship of Don 
 Pascual de Gayangos. 
 
 In inquiring into the probable authorship of these 
 three extremely valuable and interesting letters 
 Sefior de Gayangos gives good reason for suppos- 
 ing that they were written by a young courtier 
 named Pedro Enriquez, one of Philip's stewards. 
 He is known to have had a perfect mania for 
 writing relations of what he saw and heard, and has 
 been called the Spanish Tacitus.' He was a 
 brother of the Marquis of Villanueva and a relative 
 both of the Duke and Duchess of Alba, of whose 
 movements he gives a very minute account in the 
 above letters. He also identifies himself as a 
 steward of the King in one of his complaints of the 
 exclusive service of Philip by Englishmen, and is 
 known to have been one of the very few Spanish 
 noblemen who remained with Philip in London. 
 His style, moreover, is peculiar, and I have had a 
 former opportunity of commenting upon it in con- 
 nection with a rapid and industrious piece of 
 historical transcription of his, executed in the 
 following year in Ghent ; ^ and I have no doubt 
 that Don Pedro Enriquez was the author of the 
 three letters I am speaking of Few people could 
 have had better opportunities of observation than 
 he. He accompanied Philip everywhere ; his rank 
 and his relationship to the all-powerful Alba brought 
 him within the inner circle of the Court, and the 
 
 ' Cabrera, " Relaciones," and Nicolas Antonio, " Biblioteca 
 Nova." 
 
 = " Chronicle of King Henry VIII. of England." London : 
 Bell and Sons. 1889. 
 
138 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 son as he was, bent to his father's will without 
 even knowing the terms of the bargain by which 
 he was to be bound for life. The conditions 
 imposed by the patriotism of Mary and her Council 
 were hard for the most powerful monarch on earth 
 to brook for his son. Philip's power was so fenced 
 round by limitations and safeguards that it was plain 
 to see the English nobles meant his sceptre to be a 
 shadowy one, and the sombre, sensitive pride of the 
 Prince was wounded to the quick at the light esteem 
 in which they seemed to hold him ; but, as Sandoval 
 says, " he, like a second Isaac, was ready to sacrifice 
 himself to his father's will and the good of the 
 Church." And he did so gracefully and with 
 dignity. No sooner had the courier delivered his 
 message at Aranjuez than Philip set off on his 
 return to Valladolid with his gaudy escort of horse- 
 men in their red and yellow doublets. In hot haste 
 the old Castilian capital put on its holiday garb to 
 celebrate the event ; the great square, standing 
 much as it stands to-day, was bravely adorned, and 
 costly hangings covered all one side of it where the 
 Prince sat to see the jousts, tourneys, cane-play, and 
 fireworks, and where he sat, alas ! the next time he 
 saw Valladolid, on his return five years afterwkrds, to 
 watch unmoved the hellish fireworks of the great 
 auto de fd. 
 
 The wedding rejoicings had hardly begun when 
 they were changed to mourning by the news of the 
 death of Don Juan of Portugal, the husband of 
 Philip's sister Juana ; and the narrator, Mufioz, 
 breaks off in the midst of his rapture over the 
 splendour of Valladolid's joy to relate the pompous 
 grandeur of its sorrow — how between the screen 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 139 
 
 and the altar of St. Paul's there were 3,000 
 candles of white and yellow wax, and how all the 
 solemnity of previous exequies paled before these. 
 In the meantime Philip had sent one of his stewards, 
 Don Gutierre Lope de Padilla, to receive the English 
 envoys at Laredo. After waiting there for a month 
 with the Prince's guard to pay them due honour, 
 he found that the news sent had been premature, 
 and that the marriage treaty had not yet even been 
 ratified, and was not, indeed, until Egmont's second 
 visit to England in March. So Padilla found his 
 way back again to Valladolid by the end of March, 
 and they decided to take the matter in more leisurely 
 fashion in future. But in a few weeks came news 
 from the Emperor himself that the contract was 
 ratified, and then the Marquis de las Navas was 
 ordered to take the Prince's first present to his 
 bride. We are told that the Marquis fitted him- 
 self out for his mission regardless of cost, and his 
 splendour appears to have been equalled by the 
 princely gifts of which he was the bearer, and 
 the noble hospitality extended to him in England. • 
 Philip's offering to Mary consisted of "a great table 
 diamond, mounted as a rose in a superb gold setting, 
 valued at 50,000 ducats ; a collar or necklace of 18 
 brilliants, exquisitely worked and set with dainty 
 grace, valued at 32,000 ducats ; a great diamond 
 with a fine large pearl pendant from it (this was 
 Mary's favourite jewel, and may be seen on her 
 breast in most portraits). They were (says narrative 
 No. 2) the most lovely pair of gems ever seen in the 
 world, and were worth 25,000 ducats. Then comes 
 
 ' See letter from Lord Edmund Dudley to the Council, 
 quoted in Tytler, " Edward VI. and Mary." 
 
I40 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 a list of pearls, diamonds, emeralds, and rubies of 
 inestimable value, and other presents without number 
 for the Queen and her ladies. Eighty fine horses 
 and fifty hackneys were sent on to Corunna to await 
 the Prince's coming, and all Castile and Aragon, not 
 to speak of Leon, were alive with artificers of the 
 gorgeous garb and trappings to fit out the proud 
 nobles who were to follow their Prince, each, with 
 true Spanish ostentation, bent upon outstripping the 
 others in the richness and splendour of themselves 
 and their train.' Munoz, in narrative No. 2, gives 
 a list of the clothes made for each of the principal 
 grandees, which it would be tedious and unnecessary 
 to repeat here. 
 
 The Prince, great as he was, was only first among 
 his peers, and if he could be magnificent so could 
 his train, and Alba and Medina-Celi, Egmont and 
 Aguilar, Pescara and Feria vied with their master 
 in their finery. Each great noble — and there were 
 twenty of them — took his train of servants in new 
 liveries, and the Prince had a Spanish guard of 
 100 gentlemen in red and yellow, 100 Germans 
 in the same uniform, but with silk facings, "as 
 their custom is to go bravely dressed," 100 
 archers on horseback, and 300 servants in the 
 same gaudy colours of Aragon. All this splendid 
 apparatus was a comparatively new thing for 
 Spaniards at the time ; the homely, uncere- 
 monious relations between sovereign and people 
 had only been put aside for the pompous etiquette 
 
 ' This was in despite of Renard's recommendation to 
 Philip : " Seulement sera requis que les Espaignolez qui 
 suyvront vostre Alteze comportent les fa9ons de faire des 
 Angloys et soient modestes, confians que vostre Alteze les 
 aicarassera par son humanite costumiere." 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 141 
 
 of the house of Burgundy, on the coming of Philip's 
 grandfather from Flanders with his Spanish bride to 
 take up the sceptre dropped by the dead hand of 
 Isabel the Catholic, and the gold of the Indies had 
 since that time poured into Spain and spread a thirst 
 for showy pomp even amongst the frank, honest, 
 homely gentlemen who had formed a majority of 
 the Spanish hidalgo class. The changed taste, 
 however, was new enough still to attract the atten- 
 tion of the crowd who had not yet become accustomed 
 to so much splendour. 
 
 All these elaborate preparations being completed, 
 Philip, with nearly 1,000 horsemen, glittering and 
 flashing in the pitiless Castilian sun, left Valladolid 
 on the 14th of May — not for England yet, but 
 far down on the Portuguese frontier, at Alcantara, 
 to meet his widowed sister, who had been forced to 
 come out of her bitter grief to govern her father's 
 kingdom during Philip's absence. He accompanied 
 her five days on her journey to Valladolid, and then 
 turning aside to take a last leave of his mad grand- 
 mother, Juana la Loca, bent his course towards 
 Benavente, on the high road to Santiago, arriving 
 there on the 3rd of June, covered with dust of travel, 
 but gracious, as he could be, to those who had enter- 
 tained his boy Carlos, who had preceded him. 
 
 Next day there was a grand bull-fight in the plaza, 
 which Philip and Carlos saw from Pero Hernandez's 
 flower-decked house. The return of the Princes to 
 Count Benavente's castle was not quite so dignified as 
 it might have been, as one bull was so "devilish" 
 that it refused to be killed, and held the plaza 
 victoriously against all comers until the next morn- 
 ing, whereupon Philip and his son had to slip out 
 
142 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 by Pero Hernandez's back door and reach the 
 castle by a roundabout way. The day after there 
 was a hunt and a tourney, and then after supper 
 the Princes mounted on a high scaffold, richly 
 dight, to see "a procession of beautiful and strange 
 inventions." Torches blazed all round them, and 
 each device was led by one of the neighbouring 
 squires with twenty pikemen and drummers and 
 fifers, each detachment in a separate livery. 
 Elephants manufactured out of horses and paste- 
 board, castles with savages inside, a green taber- 
 nacle with a lovely maiden borne by savages, a 
 model of a ship dressed with English and Spanish 
 flags, and, strangest of all, a girl in a coffin com- 
 plaining of Cupid, who came behind on horseback. 
 When the device reached the middle of the plaza 
 the god of love was suddenly hoisted on high by a 
 rope round his middle, and let off fireworks, to the 
 delectation of the crowd. As a relief to this foolery 
 the great Lope de Rueda then represented "a sacred 
 play with comic interludes," which, no doubt, was 
 better worth seeing than the "conceits and fireworks " 
 that pleased the narrator so much. The next day, 
 after bidding good-bye to the son who was afterwards 
 to hate him so bitterly, the Prince started in the cool 
 of the summer night on his way to the sea. 
 
 At Astorga a splendid reception had been pre- 
 pared for him, but he could not stay, and pushed on 
 with all possible speed, news having reached him 
 that the Earl of Bedford and Lord Fitzwalter were 
 already awaiting him at Santiago. There he arrived 
 on the vigil of St. John, the 23rd of June, and there 
 as usual golden keys were offered by kneeling 
 citizens ; silks and satins, velvets and brocades 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 143 
 
 flaunted in the sun, and in the upper window of 
 a house on the Hne of route sat the two English 
 lords, their mantles before their faces, watching 
 the progress of their future king to worship at the 
 shrine of the Spanish patron saint, St. James. The 
 next morning Philip sent a party of his highest nobles 
 to bring Bedford and Fitzwalter to him, and "being 
 advised of their coming, his Highness came out of 
 his chamber into a great hall, strangely hung with 
 rich tapestries, and on the lords half-kneeling and 
 doffing their bonnets the Prince received them 
 graciously, with his hat in his hand. The principal 
 ambassador (i.e., Bedford), a grandee and a good 
 Christian, produced the marriage contract, the con- 
 ditions of which his Highness accepted before all 
 present. As the contents were only known to the 
 Prince and his Council, we were unable to learn them. 
 The English nobles then kissed hands in turn, and 
 as they went out one said to the other in his own 
 tongue, ' Oh ! God be praised for sending us so 
 good a king as this.' The remark was made so 
 quietly that it would not have been noticed, only that 
 a Spanish gentleman who understood their language 
 stood close to them and happened to hear it." 
 
 The envoys had some reason to be pleased with 
 their Queen's future consort, for after accompanying 
 him to the cathedral the next day Bedford received 
 as a gift what is described as being one of the finest 
 pieces of gold ever seen, of exquisite and elaborate 
 workmanship, chased with grotesque figures, and 
 standing a yard and a half high, of solid gold. 
 The narrator (No. 2) says that 6,000 ducats' worth 
 of gold was employed in the making of it, and 
 the handiwork cost more than 1,000. The twenty 
 
144 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 English gentlemen who accompanied the envoys all 
 received splendid gifts, although their appearance 
 was already sufficiently rich with their " thick gold 
 chains and great copiousness of buttons," which last 
 characteristic of English fashion at the time seems 
 to have attracted most of the Spanish observers. 
 Four days were spent in rest and rejoicing at 
 Santiago, and then a three days' ride brought 
 them to Corunna, where there were more rejoicings. 
 Kneeling aldermen at the gate presented golden 
 keys as usual ; a marvellous canopy was held over 
 the Prince's head ; triumphal arches spanned the 
 way ; and the local poet had contrived to evolve 
 the following couplet, which was held aloft by five 
 nymphs — 
 
 " No basta fuerza ni mafia 
 Contra el principe de Espaiia, 
 
 which may be rendered — 
 
 " Force and cunning both in vain 
 Strive against the Prince of Spain." 
 
 The narrator (No. 2) airs his historical knowledge 
 in describing an allegorical group containing a figure 
 of Hercules, whom he speaks of as having been "a 
 King of Spain before Christ, and having built many 
 great edifices in the country, such as the Pillars of 
 Hercules at Cadiz and the tower at the entrance 
 to the port of Corunna, where there is a marvellous 
 mirror showing ships that are far off at sea." 
 
 With all pomp, and with a naked sword of justice 
 borne before him by his master of the horse, the 
 Prince was conducted to the shore to see the gallant 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 145 
 
 fleet riding at anchor awaiting him. Drawn up on 
 the beach were 600 Guipuzcoan sea warriors armed 
 with lances, and as the fleet and castle thundered 
 out their salutations the townsfolk, we are told, 
 feared their dwellings would all be shaken down, 
 and " for an hour and a half neither heaven nor 
 earth was visible." Thence the Prince went round 
 by the castle to the little dock, where forty Biscay 
 fisher boats were ready with their glistening cargoes 
 of fine fish to cast at the feet of their beloved Philip. 
 The English ambassadors begged as a favour that 
 the new consort would make the voyage in one of 
 the British ships that had brought them over, but 
 this was not considered prudent by Philip's cautious 
 councillors, and as a compromise the English envoys 
 were allowed to choose from amongst all the Spanish 
 ships the one that was to convey the Prince. Their 
 choice fell upon a fine merchant vessel commanded 
 by the bravest and best of those bold Biscay mariners 
 who are the pride of Spain, Martin de Bertondona, 
 and the next morning Philip and his Court went to 
 inspect it. A splendid sight it must have been with 
 its towering carved and gilded poop and forecastle. 
 It was hung, we are told, from stem to stern with 
 fine scarlet cloth, and aloft on every available spot 
 were coloured silk pennons. The forecastle was 
 hung with crimson brocade painted with golden 
 flames. A royal standard, thirty yards long, of 
 crimson damask, with the Prince's arms painted 
 on it, hung from the mainmast, and a similar flag 
 from the mizzenmast. The foremast had ten pointed 
 silk flags painted with the royal arms, and there 
 were thirty other similar flags on the stays and 
 shrouds. Three hundred sailors in red uniforms 
 
 II 
 
146 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 formed the crew, and we are assured that the 
 effect of the ship was that of a lovely flower- 
 garden, as well it might be, and the cost of the 
 decorations was 10,000 ducats. The English ships 
 were then inspected and admired, and the ship that 
 had carried the Marquis de las Navas over to 
 England with the jewels was visited, and its 
 captain related how the good Queen was anxious 
 for her consort's arrival, and how she had ordered 
 1,000 gentlemen to await him with as many horses, 
 as she thought no horses would be brought from 
 Spain. All next day is spent in hunting, and the 
 favourite, Ruy Gomez, preceding his master on his 
 return into the town, is saluted by the fleet instead 
 of the Prince by mistake, much to the latter's amuse- 
 ment. The next day heralds announced that every 
 one was to be examined by the Prince's alcalde before 
 embarking, and that no woman was to go without 
 her husband. Mufioz says that 12,000 soldiers were 
 shipped in the hundred ships (some of which car- 
 ried 300 bronze pieces) and thirty sloops that 
 formed the fleet, but this seems to be an ex- 
 aggeration, as narrative No. 6 gives 6,000 soldiers 
 and as many sailors as going in the main squadron 
 that convoyed Philip (consisting of about 100 sail) ; 
 and Noailles, who would minimise it as much as 
 possible, says 4,000. Don Luis de Carvajal 
 remained behind with about thirty sail to take the 
 troops that had not arrived (Noailles says 2,000) and 
 bring up the rear. 
 
 On the 1 2th of July Philip and his Court embarked 
 in a sumptuous galley of twenty-four oars, manned 
 by sailors in scarlet and gold, with plumed hats of 
 scarlet silk, and, amidst music, singing, and daring 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 147 
 
 gymnastic feats of the mariners, went on board 
 Martin de Bertondona's ship the Espiritu Santo. 
 The next day, Friday, at three in the afternoon 
 they set sail, the dense crowd on shore crying to 
 God to send the travellers a safe voyage, and in the 
 same breath hurling defiance to the French. There 
 was a slight swell and wind until next day at dinner, 
 when the weather fell dead calm, " which looked as 
 if it might last a month, but raised the spirits of 
 those who were depressed by "marine vomitings." 
 The next day a delightful fair breeze sprang up, and 
 on a smooth sea the splendid fleet ran across the 
 bay, sighting Ushant on Sunday. On Wednesday 
 a Flemish fleet of eighteen galleons, which was 
 cruising in the Channel, hove in sight, and con- 
 voyed them past the Needles with some ships of 
 the English navy, and into Southampton Water, 
 where on Thursday, the 19th of July, at four o'clock, 
 the combined fleet anchored amid the royal salute 
 from the English and Flemish fleets of thirty 
 sail that were assembled to receive them. The 
 English and Fjemish sailors had not got on 
 particularly well together during the time the 
 two fleets had awaited the arrival of Philip. 
 Renard had complained to the Emperor that 
 the Flemish sailors were hustled and insulted 
 whenever they set foot on shore, and Howard, 
 the lord admiral, had mocked at their ships 
 and called them cockle - shells ; i but I can 
 find no contemporary authority for the extremely 
 unlikely story of the English admiral having thrown 
 a shot across the bows of the Prince's fleet to compel 
 it to salute the English flag. 
 
 ' Renard to the Emperor, quoted in Tytler, " Edward VI. 
 and Mary." 
 
148 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 Philip, however, was determined to gain over the 
 jealous hearts of his new subjects by his courtesy and 
 graciousness. Renard's recommendations and the 
 Emperor's instructions had been very definite on the 
 point, and every account, Spanish, English, and 
 Italian, with the sole exception of Baoardo's, quoted 
 by Froude, agrees that the Prince's demeanour was 
 kindly, courteous, and frank. Damula, the Venetian 
 ambassador to the Emperor, writes to the Doge,' 
 saying that on disembarking the Prince treated every- 
 body with great graciousness and affability, without 
 any pomp or royal ceremony, mixing with people as 
 a comrade ; and Cabrera, speaking of his arrival, says : 
 " Some of the English were inclined to be sulky, 
 but the King won them over with his prudence and 
 affability, and with gifts and favours, together with 
 his family courtesy." (Our narrative No. 6 specially 
 mentions the Prince's cortesia e gentilezza di par- 
 lare.'^) 
 
 As soon as the anchors were down the English 
 and Flemish admirals went on board the Espiritu 
 Santo to salute the Prince, and the Marquis de las 
 Navas put off from Southampton with the six young 
 
 ^ July, Calendar of State Papers, Venetian. 
 
 = Soriano, the Venetian ambassador in Madrid, says that 
 the gentle courtesy he adopted in England was continued 
 after his return to Spain, and that, whilst maintaining his 
 natural gravity and dignity, his kindness and graciousness 
 were remarkable to all persons. Michaeli, the Venetian 
 ambassador in London, who had sided with Noailles in his 
 opposition to the match, is emphatic in his testimony of 
 Philip's affability whilst in England, and says that his con- 
 duct towai-ds his wife was enough to make any woman love 
 him, " for in truth no one else in the world could have been 
 a better or more loving husband." These and many other 
 similar contemporary assurances prove that Philip acted all 
 through the business like an honest, high-minded gentleman. 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 149 
 
 noblemen who were to be the new King's lords-in- 
 waiting. The Prince dined and slept on board, and 
 the next day there came off to him the Emperor's 
 ambassador, the Marquis de las Navas, Figueroa 
 ("the ancient ambassador with the long white 
 beard "), Pescara, and the Earls of Arundel, Derby, 
 Shrewsbury, and Pembroke (?). Noailles was pro- 
 bably wrong as regards the last-named nobleman, as 
 the Spanish narratives agree that he arrived at South- 
 ampton from the Queen next day, with a splendid 
 escort for the new sovereign. He was also wrong 
 in asserting that the King was invested with the 
 Garter on board his vessel, for it appears to have 
 been given to him in the barge before he stepped 
 on shore by Arundel, probably assisted by Sir John 
 Williams — Lord Williams of Thame ' — to whom 
 one of our narratives says the Prince gave the wand 
 of chamberlain, whilst the other narratives say the 
 office was conferred on " the man who brought him 
 the Garter." The future consort received these high 
 personages on board the Espiritu Santo cap in 
 hand, and after presenting them to his principal 
 courtiers went on board the splendid barge awaiting 
 him, accompanied by the English nobles and by 
 Alba, Feria, Ruy Gomez and four chamberlains, 
 Olivares, Pedro de Cordoba, Gutierre Lopez de 
 Padilla, Diego de Acevedo, Egmont, Horn, and 
 Bergues. No sign was made to the rest of the 
 fleet, and the mass of courtiers only obtained leave 
 to land after the royal party had approached the 
 shore. No soldier or man-at-arms, however, was 
 
 ' He died in 1559, and a magnificent alabaster monument, 
 with the recumbent figures of himself and his wife, exists in 
 fine preservation in the chancel of Thame church, of which 
 he was a liberal benefactor. 
 
ISO THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 to land, on pain of death, for not only had Philip 
 learnt from Renard the agony of distrust of the 
 Spanish arms felt by the English people, but he 
 had received news of his father's reverse in the 
 Netherlands and urgent orders to send him all 
 the troops and money he had or could obtain. 
 The Spanish fleet were not even allowed to enter 
 the port of Southampton, but after some delay, and 
 great discontent of the Spaniards at what they con- 
 sidered such churlish treatment, were sent to Ports- 
 mouth to revictual for their voyage to Flanders. 
 
 After the presentation of the chain and badge of 
 the Garter Philip stepped on English soil, and the 
 first to greet him was Sir Anthony Browne, who 
 announced in a Latin speech that the Queen had 
 chosen him for her consort's master of the horse, 
 by whom her Majesty had sent him the beautiful 
 white charger housed in crimson velvet and gold 
 that was champing the bit hard by. The Prince 
 thanked his new grand equerry, but said he would 
 walk to the house prepared for him ; but Browne 
 and the lords of the household told him this was 
 unusual, and the former " took him up in his arms 
 and put him on the saddle," and then kissing the 
 stirrups walked bare-headed by the side of his 
 master. All the English and Spanish courtiers 
 preceded them, and amidst apparent rejoicing they 
 slowly passed through the curious crowd to the 
 Church of the Holy Rood. The Prince must have 
 looked an impressive figure with his dapper, erect 
 bearing, his yellow beard and close-cropped yellow 
 head, dressed as he was in black velvet and silver, 
 his massive gold chains and priceless gems glittering 
 in his velvet bonnet and at his neck and wrists. 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 151 
 
 Browne was no unworthy pendant to his prince. 
 He was dressed in a suit of black velvet entirely 
 covered with gold embroidery and a surcoat of the 
 same with long hanging sleeves. ^ When the Prince 
 had returned thanks for his safe voyage he was con- 
 ducted to the lodgings prepared for him, which we 
 are told were beautifully adorned, particularly two 
 rooms, a bedroom and presence chamber hung with 
 gold- worked damask with the name of King Henry 
 on it ; but none of our narrators say anything about 
 Baoardo's story of the dismay caused by the words 
 Fidei defensor on the hangings. All the English 
 archers and the guard and porters about the Prince 
 wore the flaming colours of Aragon, and the Spanish 
 attendants and courtiers looked on with jealous rage 
 at the attendance on him of English servants. The 
 dinner and supper were private, but the meals were 
 ostentatious, ceremonious, and too abundant for the 
 Spanish taste. On Saturday, the next day, the 
 same programme was gone through : to Mass in 
 the same order as before, the Spanish courtiers 
 being obliged to leave before the service was over, 
 in order to banish the idea that they were in official 
 attendance on the Prince, who came out surrounded 
 by Englishmen only. It rained so hard that his 
 Highness, who had no hat or cape, had to borrow 
 them of an Englishman near him, although the 
 church was just opposite his lodging. 
 
 Southampton is described in glowing terms. It 
 is said to be a beautiful port with 300 houses, which 
 were filled to their utmost capacity by the courtiers 
 
 ' Probably the dress in which he is represented in the 
 magnificent painting of him belonging to the Marquis of 
 Exeter at Burghley (No. 236, Tudor Exhibition). 
 
IS2 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 and the 400 Spanish servants who landed the day 
 after the Prince. The Queen at Winchester had 
 learnt post-haste of the landing of her future hus- 
 band, and an active interchange of messengers were 
 soon scouring backwards and forwards through the 
 pitiless rain of the next three days. Early on Satur- 
 day morning the Earl of Pembroke arrived from the 
 Queen with an escort for the Prince of 200 gentlemen 
 dressed in black velvet with gold chains and medals, 
 and 300 others in scarlet cloth with velvet facings, 
 all splendidly mounted. Then Egmont posts off to 
 kiss the Queen's hand, and meets Gardiner coming 
 to Philip with a costly diamond ring from her 
 Majesty. The next day twelve beautiful hackneys 
 come from the bride to her affianced husband, and 
 after that the well-beloved Ruy Gomez is dispatched 
 with a ring to thank her, and this interchange of 
 courtesy and compliment is thus kept up until all 
 things are arranged for the journey to Winchester. 
 Before Philip left Southampton, however, better 
 news came from Flanders. The French had not 
 followed up their victory at Marienberg, and the 
 Imperialists could breathe again. The 600 jennets 
 that came from Spain were therefore disembarked 
 and remained in England, as well as Philip's own 
 horses, "which," says Pedro Enriquez (No. 3), "the 
 master of the horse took to his own stable ; not a 
 bad beginning to try and keep them altogether in 
 the long run." On Sunday, the day before he left 
 Southampton, Philip dined in public for the only 
 time there. He was served with great ceremony 
 by the English, but Alba, although he took no 
 wand of office in his hand, insisted on handing his 
 master the napkin, and the Spanish courtiers looked 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 153 
 
 on with ill-disguised contempt at what they con- 
 sidered the clumsy service of their successors. The 
 courtier who wrote narrative No. 3 bursts out at this 
 point with his complaint : " My lady Dona Maria de 
 Mendoza was quite right when she said we should 
 be no more good. We are all quite vagabonds now 
 and of no use to any one. We had far better go 
 and serve the Emperor in the war. They make us 
 pay twenty times the value of everything we buy." 
 
 The next morning in the pouring rain the royal 
 cavalcade set out for Winchester, 3,000 strong. The 
 nobles and gentry had been flocking in for days 
 with their retainers in new liveries ; Pembroke's 
 escort, with 200 halberdiers of the guard and as 
 many light-horse archers, dressed much as are the 
 beefeaters of to-day, guarded the Prince's person, 
 the Spanish guard, to their chagrin, being still on 
 board the ships. On the road 600 more gentlemen, 
 dressed in black velvet with gold chains, met his 
 Highness, and when nearing Winchester six of 
 the Queen's pages, beautifully dressed in crimson 
 brocade with gold sashes, with as many superb 
 steeds, were encountered, who told his Highness 
 the Queen had sent the horses to him as a present. 
 But not a word anywhere of Baoardo's sensational 
 story, embellished by Froude, of the breathless 
 messenger from the Queen, the terror-stricken 
 Prince, and the gloomy resolve to consummate his 
 sacrifice even if he got wet in doing it. 
 
 Philip was surrounded by the English nobles 
 Winchester, Arundel, Derby, Worcester, Bedford, 
 Rutland, Pembroke, Surrey, Clinton, Cobham, 
 Willoughby, Darcy, Maltravers, Talbot, Strange, 
 Fitzwalter, and North, and by about fifteen Spanish 
 
IS4 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 grandees, whose names will have less interest for 
 English readers. He was dressed, when he started, 
 in a black velvet surcoat adorned with diamonds, 
 leather boots, and trunks and doublet of white satin 
 embroidered with gold ; but this delicate finery had 
 to be covered by a red felt cloak to protect it from 
 the rain. Notwithstanding this it was too wet for 
 him to enter Winchester without a change, so he 
 stayed at a "hospital that had been a monastery 
 one mile from the city," and there donned a black 
 velvet surcoat covered with gold bugles and a suit 
 of white velvet trimmed in the same way, and thus 
 he entered, passing the usual red-clothed kneeling 
 aldermen with gold keys on cushions, and then to 
 the grand cathedral, which impressed the Spaniards 
 with wonder, and above all to find that " Mass was 
 as solemnly sung there as at Toledo." 
 
 A little crowd of mitred bishops stood at the great 
 west door, crosses raised and censers swinging, and 
 in solemn procession to the high altar, under a velvet 
 canopy, they led the man whom they looked upon as 
 God's chosen instrument to permanently restore their 
 faith in England. Then, after admiring the cathe- 
 dral, Philip and his Court went to the dean's house, 
 which had been prepared for his reception, in order 
 to allay the maiden scruples of the Queen with 
 regard to his sleeping under the same roof with her 
 at the bishop's palace before the solemnisation of 
 the marriage. After Philip had supped, and pre- 
 sumably was thinking more of going to bed than 
 anything else, the Lord Chamberlain ' and the Lord 
 Steward 2 came to him, it being ten o'clock at night, 
 
 ' Sir John Gage. 
 
 "" The Earl of Arundel. 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 155 
 
 and said the Queen was waiting for him in her 
 closet, and wished him to visit her secretly with 
 very few followers. He at once put on another 
 gorgeous suit, consisting of a French surcoat em- 
 broidered in silver and gold, and a doublet and 
 trunks of white kid embroidered in gold, "and very 
 gallant he looked," says Munoz's informant (No. 2). 
 The party traversed a narrow lane between the two 
 gardens, and on reaching a door in the wall the 
 Lord Steward told the Prince he could take with 
 him such courtiers as he chose. Philip did not 
 seem disposed to run any risks, and construed the 
 invitation in a liberal spirit, taking into the garden 
 Alba, Medina-Celi, Pescara, Feria, Aguilar, Chin- 
 chon, Horn, Egmont, Lopez- Acevedo, Mendoza, 
 Carillo, and others. They found themselves in a 
 beautiful garden with rippling fountains and arbours, 
 which reminded them, they say, of the books of 
 chivalry. Indeed, nothing is more curious than the 
 grave seriousness with which all the Spanish nar- 
 rators refer to England as the land of Amadis and 
 of Arthur and his knights, and their attempts to 
 identify localities and characteristics of England 
 with the descriptions they have read of the land of 
 romance, which they firmly believe to be England 
 and not Brittany. 
 
 The Prince and his party entered by a little back 
 door, and ascended a narrow, winding staircase to 
 the Queen's closet. She was in a "long narrow 
 room or corridor where they divert themselves," 
 surrounded by four or five aged nobles and as many 
 old ladies, the Bishop of Winchester being also with 
 her, and the whole party, we are told, was marvel- 
 lously richly dressed, the Queen herself wearing a 
 
iS6 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 black velvet gown cut high in the English style 
 without any trimming, a petticoat of frosted silver, 
 a wimple of black velvet trimmed with gold, and a 
 girdle and collar of wonderful gems. She was 
 walking up and down when the Prince entered, and 
 as soon as she saw him went quickly towards him 
 and kissed her hand before taking his. In return 
 he kissed her on the mouth " in the English 
 fashion," and she led him by the hand to a chair 
 placed by the side of her own under a canopy. 
 The Queen spoke in French and her future hus- 
 band in Spanish, and they thus made themselves 
 well understood. Whilst they were in animated 
 converse the Lord Admiral (Lord William Howard), 
 "who is a great talker and very jocose," risked 
 some rather highly flavoured jokes, which the free 
 manners of the time apparently permitted. The 
 two lovers sat under their brocade canopy chatting 
 for a long time ; but this probably seemed some- 
 what slow to the bridegroom, who, after asking the 
 Queen to give her hand for all his Spaniards to kiss, 
 as they loved her well, begged to be allowed to see 
 her ladies, who were in another room. The Queen 
 went with him, and as the ladies approached two by 
 two he kissed them all "in his way" with his 
 plumed cap in his hand, "so as not to break the 
 custom of the country, which is a very good one." 
 Whether the Queen thought it good on this occa- 
 sion is not clear ; but when her lover wanted to 
 leave directly the extensive osculation was over she 
 would not let him go, but carried him off for another 
 long talk with her. " No wonder," says the nar- 
 rator (No. 2), " she is so glad to get him and to see 
 what a gallant swain he is." When he had to leave 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 157 
 
 her she playfully taught him to say "Good-night," 
 and he made this the excuse for going to the ladies 
 again to say it to them ; but when he reached them 
 he had forgotten the outlandish words, and had to 
 come back to the Queen to ask her, " whereat she 
 was much pleased," but probably less so when he 
 found it necessary to go back once more to the 
 ladies to salute them with " God ni hit," Car, the 
 Marquis of Pescara's servant (narrator No. 6), in 
 describing this interview says that the Queen's 
 governess told the Prince she thanked God 
 for letting her live to see the day, but asked 
 his pardon for not having reared a more beautiful 
 bride for him. According to one of the Italian 
 variants of the same narrative the Queen is 
 still less complimentary to herself and in reply 
 to Philip's thanks to her after the marriage says 
 it is she who is grateful to him for taking an old 
 and ugly wife ^ {brutta e vecchia). The courtier's 
 narrative (No. 4) speaks of the Queen in somewhat 
 less unfavourable terms and says: "Although she 
 is not at all handsome, being of short stature and 
 rather thin than fat, she has a very clear red and 
 white complexion. She has no eyebrows, is a 
 perfect saint, but dresses very badly." 
 
 This narrator is very critical about the , ladies' 
 dresses and is quite shocked at some of the English 
 fashions. He says : — 
 
 " They wear farthingales of coloured cloth with- 
 out silk ; the gowns they wear over them are of 
 
 ' In the narrative signed by Car (British Museum) the 
 Queen is described in this interview as " chatting gaily, and 
 although she is a little elderly she displays the grace befitting 
 a queen." 
 
iS8 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 damask, satin, or velvet of various colours, but very 
 badly made. Some of them have velvet shoes 
 slashed like men's, and some wear leather. Their 
 stockings are black, and they show their legs even 
 up to the knees, at least when they are travelling, 
 as their skirts are so short. They really look quite 
 indelicate when they are seated or riding. They 
 are not at all handsome, nor do they dance grace- 
 fully, as all their dancing only consists of ambling 
 and trotting. Not a single Spanish gentleman is in 
 love with any of them ' . . . and they are not 
 women for whom the Spaniards need put them- 
 selves out of the way in entertaining or spending 
 money on them, which is a good thing for the 
 Spaniards." 
 
 When the same narrator reaches London he 
 speaks with somewhat more experience, but his 
 opinion is not much modified. He says, when 
 speaking of the vast numbers of ladies that served 
 the Queen : — 
 
 " Those I have seen in the palace have not struck 
 me as being handsome ; indeed, they are downright 
 ugly. I do not know how this is, because outside I 
 have seen some very beautiful and, attractive women. 
 In this country women do not often wear clogs and 
 wraps, as they do in Spain, but go about the city 
 and even travel in their bodices. Some of them 
 walk in London with veils and masks before their 
 faces, which makes them look like nuns, who do not 
 wish to be known. Women here wear their skirts 
 
 ' Don Pedro Enriquez was wrong here. One of the 
 greatest of the Spanish nobles. Count de Feria, had fallen 
 madly in love with Jane Dormer, one of the Queen's maids 
 of honour, and soon afterwards privately married her. 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 159 
 
 very short, and their black stockings are trim and 
 tightly gartered ; the shoes are neat, but are slashed 
 like men's, which does not look well to Spanish eyes." 
 Philip, we are told, slept late next morning, and 
 as soon as he was up the Queen's tailor brought him 
 two superb dresses, one made of very rich brocade 
 profusely embroidered with gold bugles and pearls, 
 with splendid diamonds for buttons, and the other 
 of crimson brocade. His Highness went to Mass 
 in a purple velvet surcoat with silver fringe and 
 white satin doublet, and then after his private dinner 
 went in great state to see the Queen. She received 
 him in the great hall of the palace, with the courtiers 
 ranged on a raised platform on each side. The 
 great officers of state preceded her, and she was 
 followed by fifty ladies splendidly dressed in purple 
 velvet, " but none of them pretty," and having met 
 her consort in the middle of the hall she led him to 
 the dais, where he stood in sweet converse with her 
 for some time. But fickle Philip " went, as usual, 
 to talk to the ladies, and we, about twelve of us, 
 kissed the Queen's hand." " We " also seem to 
 have been talking to the ladies before that, but do 
 not appear to have got on very well, as "we could 
 hardly understand each other." Then Philip went 
 to Vespers and the Queen to her chapel, and after 
 supper they met again, and Figueroa privately read 
 the Emperor's abdication, which made Philip king 
 of Naples, and all the ambassadors, except Noailles, 
 paid homage to the new sovereign, who received 
 them bareheaded.' 
 
 ' Baoardo, quoted by Mr. Froude, says " he raised his hat 
 to nobody," but these narratives often mention his being 
 uncovered. 
 
i6o THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 The wedding ceremony next day is fully described 
 by the English authorities already mentioned, and 
 the narratives before us, although extremely minute 
 in detail, do not vary much from the accepted 
 accounts. The ancient cathedral was all aflame 
 with splendid colour, and the world has rarely seen 
 so gorgeous and so rich a company as was there 
 assembled. All the pomp that regal expenditure 
 could buy in an age of ostentation was there. All 
 the impressive solemnity that the Roman Church 
 could give to its ceremonies was lavished upon this. 
 The Queen, we are told, blazed with jewels to such 
 an extent that the eye was blinded as it looked upon 
 her ; her dress was of black velvet flashing with 
 gems, and a splendid mantle of cloth of gold fell 
 from her shoulders ; but through the Mass that 
 followed the marriage service she never took her 
 eyes off" the crucifix upon which they were devoutly 
 fixed. Her fifty ladies were dressed in cloth of gold 
 and silver, and " looked more like celestial angels 
 than mortal creatures." Philip matched his bride 
 in splendour. He too wore a mantle of cloth of 
 gold embroidered with precious stones, and the rest 
 of his dress was the white satin suit the Queen had 
 sent him the day before, and he too was a blaze of 
 jewels. The Earl of Derby, who preceded the 
 Queen with a sword of state, appears to have 
 greatly impressed the imaginations of the Spaniards, 
 as several references are made to his power and 
 splendour. He is spoken of as the "king of Mon- 
 gara (Man), who wears a leaden crown," and it is 
 easy to see that much of the interest in him is 
 caused by the supposed identification of his king- 
 dom with scenes of the rornances of chivalry. 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. i6i 
 
 After the ceremony the King and the Queen 
 walked through an immense crowd to the palace 
 side by side, and entered the great hall,' which the 
 narrator (No. 2) calls the " hall of Poncia," for the 
 wedding banquet. A high table, eight yards long, 
 was placed on a dais, and at it sat the King and 
 Queen, the latter being on the right and in a finer 
 chair than her husband. Gardiner sat at the end of 
 the high table, and on the floor were four other 
 tables, where the nobles, to the number of 158, 
 partook of the feast. Before the King and Queen 
 stood Lords Pembroke and Strange with the sword 
 and staff of state, and all the courtly ceremony of 
 saluting the dishes as they are brought in, and 
 doffing bonnets to the throne, even in the absence 
 of the Queen, is set forth with admiring iteration by 
 the form-loving Spaniards. Their jealous eyes, too, 
 do not fail to notice that the Queen takes precedence 
 in everything. Not only has she the best chair, but 
 she eats from gold plate, whilst her consort eats 
 from silver. This, they say, is no doubt because he 
 is not yet a crowned king, and it will be altered 
 later. All the tables are served with silver, except 
 some large dishes ; and great sideboards of plate 
 stand at each end of the hall. The buffet behind 
 the high table had over a hundred great pieces of 
 gold and silver plate, with a "great gilt clock half 
 as high as a man," and a fountain of precious marble 
 with a gold rim. There were four services of meat 
 and fish, each service consisting of thirty dishes, ^ 
 
 ' Narrator No. 6 says, " The hall, which is beautifully 
 hung with cloth of gold and silk, measures forty of my paces 
 long and twenty wide." 
 
 " Underhyll (Harleian Manuscript, 425, f. 97) gives a very 
 quaint account of his share in this banquet. " On the 
 
 12 
 
i62 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 and minstrels played during the feast, whilst the 
 solid splendour and pompous ceremony appear to 
 have impressed all the Spaniards with wonder not 
 unmixed with envy. It is, indeed, here that the 
 jealousy of the courtier narrator (Nos. 3, 4, and 
 5) first bursts out. The only Spaniard who was 
 allowed to serve the King was Don Inigo de Men- 
 doza, son of the Duke of Infantado, who was cup- 
 bearer, and four yeomen of the mouth, who helped ; 
 but " as for any of the Prince's own stewards doing 
 anything, such a thing was never thought of, and 
 not one of us took a wand in our hands, nor does it 
 seem likely we ever shall, neither the controller nor 
 any one else, and they had better turn us all out as 
 vagabonds." The Earl of Arundel presented the 
 ewer with water for the King's hands, and the Mar- 
 quis of Winchester the napkin. The ewer, we are 
 
 maryage daye the kynge and queue dyned in the halle in the 
 bushop's palice sittynge under the cloth of estate and none 
 eles att that table. The nobillitie satte att the syde tables. 
 Wee {i.e., the gentlemen pensioners) weare the cheffe 
 sarueters to cary the meate and the yearle of Sussex ower 
 captayne was the shewer. The seconde course att the 
 maiyage off a kynge is gevyne unto the bearers ; I meane 
 the meate butt nott the dishes for they were off golde. It 
 was my chaunce to carye a greate pastie of a i-edde dere in a 
 great charger uei-y delicately baked ; which for the weyght 
 thereoff dyuers refused ; the wyche pastie I sentt unto 
 London to my wyffe and her brother who cherede there- 
 with many off ther trends. I wyll not take uppon me to 
 wiyte the maner of the maryage, off the feaste nor of the 
 daunssyngs of the Spanyards thatt day who weare greatly 
 owte off countenaunce specyally King Phelip dauncynge 
 when they dide see me lorde Braye, Mr. Carowe and others 
 so farre excede them ; but wyll leve it unto the learned as it 
 behovithe hym to be thatt shall wryte a story off so greate a 
 ti-youmffe." The Louvian Chronicle (Tytler) says : — " The 
 dinner lasted till six in the evening, after which there was 
 store of music, and before nine all had retired." 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 163 
 
 told (narrative No. 6), contained "not water, but 
 white wine, as is the custom here." 
 
 Then, after the Queen had pledged all her guests 
 in a cup of wine, and a herald had proclaimed the 
 titles of Philip as King of England, France, Naples, 
 and Jerusalem, Prince of Spain, and Count of 
 Flanders, the royal party retired to another cham- 
 ber, with the English and Spanish nobles, where 
 the time passed in pleasant converse, the Spaniards 
 talking with the English ladies, " although we had 
 great trouble to make out their meaning, except of 
 those who spoke Latin, so we have all resolved not 
 to give them any presents of gloves until we can 
 understand them. The gentlemen who speak the 
 language are mostly very glad to find that the 
 Spaniards cannot do so." 
 
 When all was ready the ball began, but as the 
 English ladies only danced in their own fashion and 
 the Spanish courtiers in theirs, the latter were rather 
 left out in the cold, until the King and Queen danced 
 a measure together in the German style, which was 
 known to both. After dancing until nightfall, 
 supper was served with the same ceremony as 
 dinner, and then more talk and gallant compliment, 
 and so to bed. 
 
 The next day the King only was visible, and 
 dined alone in public, and on the succeeding day 
 the same ; but on the third day (Saturday) the 
 Queen heard Mass in her private pew and received 
 the Duchess of Alba, who had arrived from South- 
 ampton after the marriage. The reception of this 
 proud dame was ceremonious enough for anything ; 
 but from the bitter complaints of her kinsman, who 
 probably wrote three of the letters before us, it is 
 
i64 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 clear that she, in common with the rest of the 
 Spanish nobles, was deeply dissatisfied with her 
 position in this country, so different from what they 
 expected. The Duchess was conducted to the 
 palace by the Earls of Kildare and Pembroke and 
 all the Court, and when she entered the presence 
 the Queen came almost to the door to meet her. 
 The Duchess knelt, and the Queen, failing to raise 
 her, courtesied almost as low and kissed her on the 
 mouth, "which she usually does only to certain 
 ladies of her own family." She led the Duchess to 
 the dais and seated herself on the floor, inviting her 
 guest to do likewise, but the latter begged her 
 Majesty to sit on the chair before she (the Duchess) 
 would sit on the floor. The Queen refused to do so, 
 and sent for two stools, upon one of which she sat, 
 whereupon the Duchess, instead of accepting the 
 other, sat beside it on the floor. The Queen then 
 left her stool and took her place on the floor also, 
 and finally, after much friendly wrangling, both 
 ladies settled on their respective stools side by 
 side. The Queen understood Spanish, but spoke in 
 French, and the Marquis de las Navas interpreted 
 to the Duchess, who only understood Spanish. 
 When the Earl of Derby was presented to the 
 Duchess, he greatly shocked her by offering to kiss 
 her on the mouth, according to the universal 
 English fashion, and she drew back to avoid the 
 salute, but not quite in time, although she assured 
 the Spaniards that the earl had only managed to 
 kiss her cheek. 
 
 But the chagrin of the proud, dissatisfied 
 Spaniards was growing deeper as they saw their 
 hopes of domination in England disappear. The 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 165 
 
 men-at-arms and bodyguard, cooped up in their 
 ships at Portsmouth arid Southampton, forbidden 
 to land under pain of death, were becoming restive ; 
 the courtiers and their followers, scoffed at and 
 insulted in the streets, and waylaid and robbed if 
 they ventured into the country, were forced to put 
 up with everything silently, by order of the King ; 
 but they could relieve their minds by writing to 
 their friends in Spain an account of their sorrows. 
 Writing from Winchester, narrator No. 2 says : — 
 
 " After all this weary voyage, these people wish to 
 subject us to a certain extent to their laws, because 
 it is a new thing for them to have Spaniards in their 
 country, and they want to feel safe. The Spaniards 
 here are not comfortable, nor are they so well off 
 as in Castile. Some even say they would rather 
 be in the worst stubble-field in the kingdom of 
 Toledo than in the groves of Amadis." 
 
 The courtier who wrote No. 3 is even more 
 emphatic. He says : — 
 
 "Great rogues infest the roads and have robbed 
 some of our people, amongst others the chamber- 
 lain of Don Juan de Pacheco, from whom they took 
 400 crowns and all his plate and jewelry. Not a 
 trace has been found of them, nor of the four or five 
 boxes missing from the King's lodgings, although 
 the Council is sending out on all sides. The friars 
 have had to be lodged in the college for safety and 
 bitterly repent having come." 
 
 But dissatisfied as the Spaniards were, there was 
 still sufficient novelty in their surroundings during 
 their stay at Winchester in the last days of July to 
 keep them amused. The wonderful round table of 
 King Arthur in the castle, where the twelve peers 
 
i66 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 are still enchanted, and their names written round 
 in the places where they sat, claims the wondering 
 attention of the visitors. The curious beer made 
 with barley and a herb, instead of wheat, as in 
 Flanders, is discussed ; and the strange habit the 
 ladies, and even some gentlemen, have of putting 
 sugar in their wine, and the never-ending dancing 
 going on amongst the ladies of the palace excite re- 
 mark. On the last day of July most of the English 
 lords and squires had gone home for the present ; 
 the Spaniards were distributed about Winchester 
 and Southampton ; the admiral of Spain was under 
 orders to take a part of the fleet back again ; and 
 the bulk of the Spanish troops were only awaiting a 
 fair wind to take them to Flanders, and the King 
 and Queen, with a small suite, set out for Basing, 
 the Lord Treasurer's ' house, fifteen miles off. 
 Most of the accounts before us end at this point, 
 but the two interesting letters to which I have given 
 the nurnbers 4 and 5, written respectively from 
 Richmond and London, show clearly the gradual 
 exacerbation of the dislike between the Spanish and 
 English as time went on, in spite of the diplomatic 
 attempts to connect Philip's name at every oppor- 
 tunity with acts of clemency and moderation. 
 
 On the 19th of August, which is the date of the 
 letter from Richmond, the royal honeymoon seems 
 yet not entirely to have waned : — 
 
 " Their Majesties are the happiest couple in the 
 world, and are more in love with each other than I 
 can say here. He never leaves her, and on the 
 
 ' This was the Marquis of Winchester, not, as Seiior 
 Gayangos supposes, Sir Edward Peclfham, who was Treasurer 
 of the Mint. 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 167 
 
 road is always by her side, lifting her into the 
 saddle and helping her to dismount. He dines 
 with her publicly sometimes, and they go to Mass 
 together on feast days." 
 
 This letter from Richmond gives the following 
 curious account of the lavish scale on which the 
 royal establishment was maintained : — 
 
 " All the rejoicings here consist only of eating 
 and drinking, as they understand nothing else. The 
 Queen spends 300,000 ducats (a year ?) in food, and 
 all the thirteen councillors and the Court favourites 
 live in the palace, besides the lord steward, the lord 
 chamberlain, the chancellor, and our people, with 
 their servants. The ladies also have private rooms 
 in the palace, with all their servants, and the 
 Queen's guard of 200 men are also lodged there. 
 Each of the lords has a separate cook in the 
 Queen's kitchens, and as there are eighteen different 
 kitchens such is the hurly burly that they are a 
 perfect hell. Although the palaces are so large that 
 the smallest of the four we have seen is infinitely 
 larger, and certainly better, than the Alcazar of 
 Madrid, they are still hardly large enough to hold 
 the people who live in them. The ordinary (daily.'*) 
 consumption of the palace is 100 sheep (which are 
 very large and fat), twelve large oxen, eighteen 
 calves, besides game, poultry, venison, wild boar, 
 and a great number of rabbits. Of beer there is no 
 end, and they drink as much as would fill the river 
 at Valladolid." 
 
 The writer is very indignant at the scant courtesy 
 paid to his great kinsfolk the Albas, and at the fact 
 that they have had to put up with lodgings that are 
 considered below their dignity even in the villages. 
 
i68 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 "It is not enough," he says, "to deprive them of 
 their office, but they must needs give them bad 
 quarters as well. . . . These English are the most 
 ungrateful people in the world, and hate the 
 Spaniards worse than the devil, as they readily 
 show, for they rob us in the town itself, and not 
 a soul dares to venture two miles on the road with- 
 out being robbed. There is no justice for us. We 
 are ordered by the King to avoid dispute and put 
 up with everything whilst we are here, enduring all 
 their attacks in silence. They therefore despise us 
 and treat us badly. We have complained to 
 Bibriesca and the ambassador, but they say it is for 
 his Majesty's sake that we must bear everything 
 patiently." 
 
 It was no wonder that under such circumstances 
 these proud hidalgos begged to be allowed to join 
 the Emperor in Flanders for the war. Medina-Celi 
 was the first to revolt at his treatment, and no 
 sooner had he obtained leave to go than eighty 
 other gentlemen followed him with their suites, and 
 so by the middle of August the only Spanish nobles 
 in attendance on Philip were Alba, Feria, Olivares, 
 Pedro de Cordoba, Diego de Cordoba,and three 
 gentlemen, amongst whom was Pedro Enriquez, the 
 supposed author of the letters. The insults upon 
 the Spaniards personally were bad enough ; but 
 what was more galling even was the disappointment 
 they felt at the political effect of the match. Instead 
 of a submissive people, ready to bow the neck at 
 once to the new king and his followers, they found 
 a country where even the native sovereign's power 
 was strictly circumscribed, and where the foreigner's 
 only hope of domination was by force of arms ; and 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 169 
 
 this they saw in the present case was impossible. 
 Enriquez, if he be the author, says : " The marriage 
 will indeed have been a failure if the Queen have no 
 children. They told us in Castile that if his High- 
 ness became king of England we should be masters 
 of France ; but quite the contrary has turned out 
 to be the fact, for the French are stronger than ever 
 and are doing as they like in Flanders. . . . Kings 
 here have as little power as if they were vassals, 
 and the people who really govern are the councillors ; 
 they are not only lords of the land, but lords of the 
 kings as well. They are all peers, some of them 
 raised up by the Church revenues they have taken 
 and others by their patrimonial estates, and they 
 are feared much more than the sovereign. They 
 publicly say they will not let the King go until they 
 and the Queen think fit, as this country is quite big 
 enough for any one king." 
 
 Great preparations were made for the entrance 
 of the 'Queen and her consort into London. The 
 signs of vengeance had been cleared away, and the 
 city was as bright and gay as paint and gilding 
 could make it. The " galluses, " from which dangled 
 the fifty dead bodies of the London trainbandsmen 
 who had deserted to Wyatt at Rochester Bridge, 
 were cleared away from the doors of the houses in 
 which their families lived, and the grinning skulls 
 of the higher offenders were taken from the gates 
 and from London Bridge ; but London, for all its 
 seeming welcome and for all its real loyalty to the 
 Queen herself, was more deeply resentful of the 
 Spanish intrusion than any city in the realm, and 
 the few Spaniards who still remained with Philip 
 repaid with interest the detestation of the Londoners 
 
170 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 towards them. "We enter London (narrative 
 No. 4) on Saturday next, but, considering their 
 treatment of the Spaniards already there, we ought 
 to stay away. Not only will they give them no 
 lodgings, I but they affront them on every opportunity, 
 as if they were barbarians, maltreating them and 
 robbing them in the taverns to their hearts' content. 
 The friars brought by his Majesty had better not have 
 come, for these English are so godless and treat them 
 so vilely that they dare not appear in the streets." 
 
 Only a few days before this letter was written from 
 Richmond (August 19th) two Spanish noblemen of 
 the highest rank, Don Pedro and Don Antonio de 
 Cordoba, ventured to walk in the streets of London 
 in their habits as knights of Santiago, with the great 
 crimson cross embroidered on their breasts, as they 
 are worn in Spain to this day, and this attracting 
 the derisive attention of the irrepressible London 
 street boy of the period, the two gentlemen were 
 soon surrounded by a hooting crowd, who wanted 
 to know what they meant by wearing so outlandish 
 an ornament, and tried to strip the offending coats 
 from their backs. The affair nearly ended in blood- 
 shed, and the Spaniards had to fly for their lives. 
 The very few Spanish ladies who came with Philip 
 were as resentful as their spouses, and we are told 
 that " Donna Hieronima de Navarra and Donna 
 Francisca de Cordoba have decided not to wait 
 upon the Queen, as there is no one to speak to them 
 at Court, these English ladies being so badly be- 
 haved ; and the Duchess of Alba will not go to Court 
 again, as she had been so discourteously treated." 
 
 ' The Spaniards had to be quartered in the halls of the 
 City guilds. 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 171 
 
 With all this grumbling, however, the country 
 itself extorted the admiration of the visitors ; the 
 books of chivalry, we are told, have only stated half 
 the truth. The palaces, rich and splendid with the 
 unhallowed spoils of the monasteries ; the flowery 
 vales, gushing fountains, enchanted woods, and 
 lovely houses far exceed even the descriptions in 
 Amadis ; but there are " few Orianas and many 
 Mavilias amongst the ladies," and the romancers 
 have said nothing about the strange, uncouth beings 
 who inhabit the enchanting land. " Who ever saw 
 elsewhere a woman on horseback alone, and even 
 riding their steeds well, and as much at home on 
 their backs as if they were experienced horsemen ? " 
 And after confessing the beauty of the country 
 itself, the narrator concludes that the disadvantages 
 of it outweigh the advantages, and wishes to God 
 that he had never seen the place or the sea that led 
 to it. And things got worse as time went on. The 
 Londoners themselves were in an exaggerated 
 panic, that explains their hard treatment of their 
 guests. The author of the " Chronicle of Queen 
 Mary," who lived in the Tower of London, and faith- 
 fully set down from day to day the news he heard, 
 reflects the terror inspired by the presence of Philip's 
 suite in the capital. We have seen that at the 
 utmost the number of Spaniards of all ranks who 
 landed from the fleet did not exceed 500, of whom 
 four-fifths had left for Flanders and Spain before 
 the King entered London, and yet the diarist, writing 
 about this time, says, " At this tyme ther was so 
 many Spanyerdes in London that a man shoulde 
 haue mett in the stretes for one Inglisheman above 
 iiij Spanyerdes to the great discomfort of the 
 
172 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 Inglishe nation. . . . The halles taken up for 
 Spanyerdes." And, again, as showing how com- 
 plete was the panic, fomented, no doubt, by 
 Noailles and the Protestants, there is an entry 
 in the "Chronicle of Queen Mary" of September 
 8th, as follows: "A talke of XII. thowsand 
 Spanyerdes coming more into this realm, they said 
 the fetch the crowne." It is not surprising, with 
 such a feeling as this current in the city, that the 
 courtier's next letter, written from London on 
 October 2nd, should be more despondent than ever. 
 They were all ill and home-sick ; some had almost 
 died, and the country did not agree with them. 
 
 " God save us and give us health, and bring us 
 safely home again. The country is a good one, 
 but the people are surely the worst in the world. I 
 verily believe if it were not for the constant prayers 
 and processions for us in Spain we should all have 
 been murdered long ago. There are slashings and 
 quarrels every day between Englishmen and 
 Spaniards, and only just now there was a fight in 
 the palace itself where several were killed on both 
 sides. Three Englishmen and a Spaniard were 
 hanged for brawling last week. Every day there 
 is some trouble . . . God help us, for these bar- 
 barous, heretical people make no account of soul 
 and conscience ; disobey God, disregard the saints, 
 and think nothing of the Pope, who they say is 
 only a man like themselves, and can have no direct 
 dominion over them. The only Pope they recognise 
 is their sovereign." 
 
 The futility of the marriage, from a national 
 point of view, rankled in the breasts of the dis- 
 appointed courtiers as much as did their personal 
 
THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 173 
 
 discomfort. They felt that the trouble they had 
 undergone, and the humble pie they had eaten, had 
 added nothing to the power of their country or their 
 sovereign, and their prevailing idea was how soonest 
 and best to wash their hands of an ungrateful and 
 profitless business in which all their sacrifices had 
 been in vain. 
 
 "We Spaniards," says the narrator, "move 
 about amongst all these Englishmen like so many 
 fools, for they are such barbarians that they cannot 
 understand us, nor we them. They will not crown 
 the King nor recognise him as their sovereign, and 
 say that he only came to help govern the kingdom 
 and beget children, and can go back to Spain as soon 
 as the Queen has a son. Pray God it may be soon, 
 for he (Philip) will be glad enough, I am sure, and 
 our joy will be boundless to be away from a land 
 peopled by such barbarous folk. The King has 
 forgiven the Queen 2,250,000 ducats she owed him, 
 and has distributed 30,000 ducats a year in pensions 
 to these lords of the Council, to keep them in a good 
 humour. All this money is taken out of Spain. A 
 pretty penny this voyage and marriage have cost 
 us, and yet these people are of no use to us after 
 all." 
 
 Bitter disappointment is the note struck all through. 
 The English lords who had been so heavily bribed 
 were ready enough to take all they could get ; but 
 they were as patriotic as they were greedy, and did 
 not sell their country's interests for their pensions. 
 Renard for once had made a mistake. He was 
 ready to assent to any conditions the English liked 
 to propose on paper, trusting to the personal in- 
 fluence of Philip on his queen after the marriage 
 
174 THE COMING OF PHILIP THE PRUDENT. 
 
 was effected. But he forgot that the Queen herself 
 was a mere puppet in the hands of her nobles, as 
 the narrator I have quoted soon discovered, and, 
 whatever ascendency the young bridegroom might 
 obtain over his half-Spanish bride, her councillors, 
 from the stern Gardiner downwards, were English- 
 men before everything, to whom the over-weening 
 power of the Emperor had been held up as a terror 
 since their childhood. And so the whole splendid 
 plot failed, and the magnificent nuptials had hardly 
 been forgotten before Philip, recognising that his 
 sacrifices had been in vain, and that he could never 
 rule in England, made the best of an unfortunate 
 speculation, and with all gravity, courtesy, and 
 dignity left Mary to die of a broken heart, alone, 
 disappointed, and forsaken. 
 
 a<*»fi 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF THE SPANISH 
 ARMADA. 
 
t%y^i 
 
 THE EVOLUTION OF THE SPANISH 
 ARMADA. 
 
 Perhaps no character in history has been more 
 misjudged and misrepresented than PhiHp II. For 
 three centuries it has pleased EngHsh writers par- 
 ticularly, to portray him as a murderous ogre, 
 grimly and silently plotting the enslavement of 
 England for thirty years before the great catastrophe 
 which reduced his vast empire to the rank of a 
 harmless second-rate power. As a matter of fact 
 he was a laborious, narrow-minded, morbidly con- 
 scientious man, patient, distrustful, and timid ; a 
 sincere lover of peace and a hater of all sorts of 
 innovations. He was born to a position for which 
 he was unfitted, and was forced by circumstances 
 stronger than himself to embark upon gigantic 
 warlike enterprises which he disliked and deplored. 
 For ages it had been considered vital in the 
 interests both of England and Spain that a close 
 alliance should exist between the two countries, in 
 order to counterbalance the immemorial connection 
 between Scotland and France; and that the Flemish 
 dominions of the house of Burgundy should under 
 no circumstances be allowed to fall under the sway 
 
 13 '^' 
 
178 THE EVOLUTION OF 
 
 of the French. It is easy to understand that with 
 France paramount over the North Sea ports and in 
 Scotland, England would never have been safe for 
 a moment ; whilst the principal continental seat of 
 English foreign trade would have been at the mercy 
 of England's secular foe. At the same time all 
 central Europe would have been cut off from its 
 Atlantic seaboard, whilst the principal maritime 
 powers, Spain and Portugal, would have been ex- 
 cluded from all ports north of Biscay, except on the 
 sufferance of their jealous rival. This was the 
 tradition to which Philip had been born ; inheriting 
 as he did the dominions both of Spain and the 
 house of Burgundy, and almost at any cost he was 
 forced, as his forefathers had been, to cling to the 
 connection between his country and England. 
 Henry VIII. had known full well that he might 
 strain the cord very tightly without breaking it 
 when he flew into the face of all Christendom, and 
 contemptuously cast aside for an ignoble passion 
 the aunt of the Emperor, a daughter of the proudest 
 royal house in Europe. Charles V. dared not, 
 and did not, break with England in consequence ; 
 for Henry had taken care to draw close to Scotland 
 and France, and the very hitit of such a combination 
 was sufficient to render the Emperor all amiability. 
 
 For a time it looked as if the alliance had been 
 rendered proof against all attack by the marriage of 
 Philip and Mary, and it is highly probable that it 
 would have been so if Renard's plan to marry 
 Elizabeth to the Duke of Savoy had been carried 
 out ; but here again circumstances were too strong 
 for persons. The marriage would have been useless 
 unless Elizabeth were first legitimised, and Mary 
 
THE SPANISH ARMADA. 179 
 
 coidd not legitimise her without bastardising herself, 
 which she obstinately refused to do, notwithstanding 
 all the entreaties of Philip and his friends. But 
 Philip ostentatiously favoured his young sister-in- 
 law, in the hope that when she came to the throne 
 he might have some claim upon her gratitude, and 
 induce her to maintain the friendship which was so 
 necessary for his interests. It was no question of 
 Catholic or Protestant yet. He would have sup- 
 ported her — as indeed he did — however firm a 
 Protestant she might be ; for the next Catholic heir 
 to the crown, Mary Stuart, was practically a French- 
 woman, married to the heir of the French throne, 
 and with her as Queen of England and France, 
 Spain and the house of Burgundy would have been 
 ruined. 
 
 Elizabeth knew as well as any one how vital it 
 was for Philip to be friendly with England ; and 
 during a long course of years she traded unscrupu- 
 lously upon her knowledge that she might assail, 
 insult, plunder, and make more or less veiled war 
 upon him, and yet that he dared not openly break 
 with her whilst France was greedily eyeing his 
 Flemish harbours. From the first moment that 
 Elizabeth's reform policy became evident it was 
 seen by Spanish statesmen that either the govern- 
 ment of England must be changed, so as to bring it 
 back to the old cordial alliance, or else Spain must 
 seek new combinations of powers, in order to redress 
 the balance. For the first alternative to be success- 
 ful promptness was necessary, and the government 
 of the Queen changed whilst the country was yet 
 unsettled and divided. Feria wrote from London 
 to Philip only a day or two after Mary's death that 
 
i8o THE EVOLUTION OF 
 
 the country must be dealt with sword in hand rather 
 than by cajolery, unless it were to be allowed to slip 
 through their hands ; and thenceforward for years 
 all of Philip's agents, one after the other, pressed 
 upon their master the necessity of using force, either 
 by aiding the Catholics to revolt or by a direct attack 
 on England. Angry, almost contemptuous, refer- 
 ences to the King's hesitancy and timidity are con- 
 stantly occurring in the letters of the various 
 Spanish ambassadors in England, but beyond 
 occasional money aid to the English Catholics 
 nothing could be obtained from the King. 
 
 Of all things slow-minded, un warlike Philip desired 
 peace, almost at any price, and he saw, as his advisers 
 did not, the dangers that surrounded him. Marriage 
 designs, cajolery, and other peaceful methods having 
 failed to bind Elizabeth to him, he attempted to form 
 a new combination. He married the French king's 
 daughter as his third wife ; and doubtless even thus 
 early had evolved in his mind the idea of a league 
 of the Catholic powers as a counterbalance to 
 Elizabeth's friendship with Denmark, Sweden, and 
 the German Protestant princes. He knew that 
 overt assistance from him to the English Catholics 
 to depose the Queen and stifle Protestantism would 
 increase the enmity of the allied Protestants of the 
 Continent, and perhaps let loose the storm of which 
 the mutterings were already audible in Flanders. 
 So, in answer to Feria's advice and Bishop Quadra's 
 arguments in favour of force, he insisted upon a 
 policy of soft words, pacification, and palliation ; and 
 again and again told his ambassadors, " You must 
 keep principally in view by all ways and means to 
 avoid a rupture . . . the importance of which is so 
 
THE SPANISH ARMADA. 
 
 i8i 
 
 great that I cannot be satisfied without repeating it 
 so many times." 
 
 But if he thus deprecated open warfare he was 
 at all times, after Mary Stuart's French husband 
 was dead, ready enough to subsidise plots to 
 assassinate or depose Elizabeth ; and large sums 
 were sent to England for that purpose. In 
 vain his agents continued to tell him how useless 
 it was to expect that the English Catholics would 
 pull the chestnuts out of the fire for him, unless 
 they were assured of his armed support. But 
 this assurance he would not give. A marriage of 
 his son Carlos with the widowed Mary Stuart, 
 simultaneously with a Catholic rising in England, 
 was an expedient after his own heart, but even here 
 his timidity was so great that he would run no risk 
 of firing a shot in favour of a project in which he 
 would have been the principal gainer. He writes 
 (June 15, 1563) to Bishop Quadra: "With regard 
 to the adherents that the Scots will have in England, 
 and the increase of their number if necessary, you 
 will not interfere in any way further than you have 
 done, but let them do it all themselves, and gain 
 what friends and sympathy they can for their opin- 
 ions amongst the Catholics and those upon whom 
 they depend. I say this because if anything should 
 be discovered they should be the persons to be blamed 
 and no one in connection with ris." He was told 
 plainly that the negotiations could not be carried on 
 in this way, which pledged everybody but himself, 
 but it was all useless : his instructions were firm and 
 undeviating : under no circumstances was he to be 
 drawn into war with England. 
 
 In 1564 the English Protestants were almost 
 
i82 THE EVOLUTION OF 
 
 openly sympathising with the growing discontent in 
 the Netherlands, and flocks of refugees from Holland 
 were daily crossing to England. Spanish ships 
 were being pillaged on every sea by English priva- 
 teers, and a war of tariffs and commercial prohibi- 
 tions was being carried on between England and 
 Spanish Flanders ; and Philip's advisers told him 
 that an open war with England would not injure 
 him so much as his present inactivity was doing. 
 But withal when he sent a smooth-tongued ambas- 
 sador, Diego de Guzman, to mollify the English, his 
 secret instructions were that he was to tell Elizabeth 
 that " his orders were to endeavour to please her in 
 all things, as in effect zvc wish you to do, using every 
 ■bossible effort to that e7id ; and striving to pj^eserve 
 her friendship towards us and our mtitical alliaiice." 
 
 In August, 1568, Philip sent a new ambassador 
 to England, Gerau de Spes. Relations at the time 
 were extremely strained between the two countries, 
 owing to the expulsion of the English ambassador 
 from Spain for some offence against the Catholic 
 religion ; and Alba's cruelty in the Netherlands had 
 aroused a bitter feeling in England against Spain, 
 which was increased by the plots which were known 
 to be in progress between the Guises and Alba in 
 favour of Mary Stuart. And yet Philip's orders to 
 his new ambassador were, "that he was to serve 
 and gratify Elizabeth on every possible occasion, as 
 in fact I wish you to do, trying to keep her on good 
 terms, and assuring her from me that I will always re- 
 turn her friendship as a good neighbour and brother." 
 
 When Elizabeth a few months afterwards seized 
 Philip's treasure-ships, which had been driven to 
 take refuge in English ports to escape from the 
 
THE SPANISH ARMADA. 183 
 
 privateers, he pursued the same peaceful policy. 
 Fiery de Spes was all for war and retaliation, but 
 beyond seizing English shipping in Spanish and 
 Flemish harbours, Philip would not go. He was 
 driven for money and sorely beset on all sides, his 
 commerce well - nigh swept from the seas, his 
 credit diminished, and his rebellious subjects in 
 Flanders blockading his own coasts against him. 
 Mary Stuart was urging him to action, his own 
 ministers were assuring him ceaselessly that the 
 only way to check English aggression was to "set 
 the fire to Elizabeth's own doors by raising troubles 
 in England or Ireland if he was not prepared to go 
 to war." But in the face of all provocation, in the 
 face of Alba's assurance that his prestige was being 
 ruined by his tame submission, he could only say 
 after long delay (December 16, 1569) that if 
 Elizabeth's hardness of heart continued he should 
 really have to consider what could be done. "We 
 here think that the best course will be to encourage 
 with money and secret favour the Catholics of the 
 North, and to help those in Ireland to take up arms 
 against the heretics and deliver the crown to the 
 Queen of Scotland, to whom it belongs by succes- 
 sion." And the only outcome of it all was the futile 
 aid to the plots of Norfolk and Ridolfi. 
 
 It was the same again twelve years later when 
 Drake's appalling atrocities on the South American 
 coasts had aroused the fury of all Spain ; and 
 England was enriched by the plunder of sacred 
 shrines and peaceful merchantmen. English troops 
 were in arms against him in Flanders, and public 
 money had been flowing over to the aid of the 
 rebels with the thinnest possible disguise, but still 
 
i84 THE EVOLUTION OF 
 
 Philip clung obstinately to the English alliance, 
 hoping against hope that at last Elizabeth would 
 become friendly with him. The most he would do, 
 as before, was to help the Irish Catholics in their 
 revolt, in order to hamper the English queen and 
 prevent her from injuring him further. Certainly 
 in all these years he had never entertained for a 
 moment the idea of the subjugation of England ; he 
 only sought either by removing Elizabeth or by di- 
 verting her attention to troubles at home to draw her 
 country back again to the old alliance and friendship. 
 Up to this period (1580) the principal reason, 
 beyond Philip's natural love of peace, which had 
 caused him to follow his long-suffering policy was 
 the fear of finding himself opposed both to England 
 and France. Catharine de Medici was as facile as 
 Elizabeth herself, and could generally, when it suited 
 her, patch up a reconciliation between Huguenots 
 and Catholics and unite them, for a short time at 
 least, under a national banner. But in January, 
 1580, an event happened which for the first time 
 seemed to hold out hopes that he might be able to 
 revenge himself upon Elizabeth without the fear of 
 France before his eyes. Archbishop Beaton, Mary 
 Stuart's ambassador in Paris, secretly told Philip's 
 ambassador there that he and the Duke of Guise 
 had prevailed upon the Queen of Scots to place 
 herself, her son, and her realm entirely in the hands 
 and under the protection of the King of Spain, and 
 would send James VI. to Spain to be brought up 
 and married there to Philip's pleasure. This meant 
 the detachment of the Guises from the French 
 interest, and Vargas, the Spanish ambassador, at 
 once saw its importance. He sent off a special 
 
THE SPANISH ARMADA. 185 
 
 courier to Philip, urging him now to action : 
 " Such is the state of things there," he says, " that 
 if even so much as a cat moved the whole edifice 
 would crumble down in three days. If your 
 Majesty had England and Scotland attached to you, 
 directly or indirectly, you might consider the States 
 of Flanders conquered, and . . . you could lay down 
 the law for the whole world." 
 
 Guise's adhesion to Spain made all the difference, 
 and Philip welcomed the idea of deporting James 
 Stuart to Spain as a preliminary measure. Mary 
 herself was in high hopes, and Beaton said she 
 was determined to leave her prison only as Queen 
 of England. Her adherents, he asserted, were 
 so numerous in the country, that if they rose 
 the matter would be easy without assistance, 
 " but with the aid of your Majesty it would soon 
 be over." The plan was shelved for a time in 
 consequence of the death of Vargas ; and James' 
 deportation became unnecessary on the fall of 
 Protestant Morton, and the accession to power of 
 D'Aubigny, Earl of Lennox, who had already sent 
 Fernihurst to Spain to assure Philip of his devotion ; 
 but in April of the following year Mary Stuart 
 opened negotiations with Tassis, the new Spanish 
 ambassador in Paris. "Affairs," she assured him, 
 through Beaton, " were never better disposed in 
 Scotland, than now to return to their ancient con- 
 dition, so that English affairs could be dealt with 
 subsequently." The King, her son, she said, was 
 quite determined to return to the Catholic religion, 
 and inclined to an open rupture with the Queen of 
 England. 
 
 Philip, however, wished to be quite sure that 
 
i86 THE EVOLUTION OF 
 
 James was really to be a Catholic before helping 
 him to the succession of the English crown. 
 Father Persons and five or six Jesuits were busy 
 in Scotland with Spanish money plotting for the 
 restoration of the Catholic religion, and the young 
 King himself told them, " that though for certain 
 reasons it was advisable for him to appear publicly 
 in favour of the French, he in his heart would rather 
 be Spanish." Even thus early James' duplicity 
 was the subject of wonder to those who surrounded 
 him; and in January, 1582, Mary wrote rather 
 doubtfully about his religion to Mendoza, the 
 Spanish ambassador in England. " The poor 
 child," she said, " was so surrounded by heretics 
 that she had only been able to obtain the assurance 
 that he would listen to the priests she sent him." 
 But she assures the Spaniard that she will bind her- 
 self and her son exclusively to Philip in future, 
 and begs that the Scottish courtiers should be 
 bribed in his interest. The Catholic revival in 
 Scotland was being vigorously worked by the 
 Jesuits and the nobles, and it soon became evident 
 to them also that James was too slippery to be 
 depended upon. So they sent Father Holt to 
 London in February with some important proposals. 
 The rank and file of the Jesuits had no idea that 
 their Catholic propaganda in Scotland had been 
 contrived and paid for by Spain with a political 
 object, and Holt was astounded when the person 
 to whom he was directed in London took him to 
 Mendoza. His message was that the Scottish 
 nobles had decided, as a last resource, if James 
 continued obstinate, to depose him, and either 
 convey him abroad or hold him a prisoner until 
 
THE SPANISH ARMADA. 187 
 
 his mother arrived in Scotland. They besought 
 the guidance of the King of Spain in the matter, 
 and begged that 2,000 foreign troops might be sent 
 to them to carry out their plans. This message 
 was repeated in a softened form to Mary Stuart in 
 her English prison, and Mendoza urged his master 
 to send the troops requested, "with the support 
 of whom the Scots might encounter Elizabeth, and 
 the whole of the English north country would be 
 disturbed, the Catholics there being in a majority ; 
 and the opportunity would be taken for the Catholics 
 in the other parts of the country to rise, when they 
 knew they had on their side the forces of a more 
 powerful prince than the King of Scotland." 
 
 Philip was on the Portuguese frontier at the time, 
 and affairs in Madrid were being managed by the 
 aged Cardinal de Granvelle, who sent to the King 
 notes and recommendations on all letters received. 
 
 He warmly seconded Mendoza's recommendations 
 that the troops requested by the Scots nobles should 
 be sent, and says : " The affair is so important 
 both for the sake of religion, and to bridle England, 
 that no other can equal it ; because by keeping the 
 Qiieen of England busy we shall be ensured against 
 her helping Alengon or daring to obstruct tis in any 
 other way." Somewhat later Granvelle repeats the 
 same note. Speaking of the fear of the Scots 
 nobles that the landing of a large foreign force 
 might threaten their liberties, he says : "This is not 
 what his Majesty wants, nor do I approve of it, but 
 that we should loyally help the King of Scots and 
 his mother to maintain their rights ; and by pro- 
 moting armed disturbance keep the Queen of 
 England and the French busy, at a comparatively 
 
i88 THE EVOLUTION OF 
 
 small cost to ourselves, and so enable us to settle 
 our own affairs better. If it had no other result 
 than this it would suffice, but very much more when 
 we consider that it may lead to the re-establishment 
 of the Catholic religion in those parts. It is very 
 advantageous that the matter should be taken in 
 hand by the Duke of Guise, as it will ensure us 
 from French obstruction. Since we cannot hope to 
 hold the island for otirselves, Gtiise will not try to 
 hand it over to the King of France to the detriment 
 of his near kinswoman." He also speaks of the 
 probability of Elizabeth's coming to terms with 
 Spain on being secured to the throne during her 
 life, and the re-establishment of the old alliance 
 between the two countries. 
 
 Thus far, then, the aims of Spain were legitimate 
 and honest under the circumstances ; and Philip 
 had no avowed intention, or thought, of the con- 
 quest of England for himself. We shall see how 
 he was gradually forced by circumstances and the 
 jealousy between the English and Scottish Catholics 
 to adopt a different attitude. 
 
 So long as Mary and Mendoza kept the direction 
 of the conspiracy in their own hands all was done 
 wisely and prudently, but as soon as Lennox and 
 the Jesuits had a hand in it a complete muddle was 
 the result. Tassis, the Spanish Ambassador in 
 France, and Guise had been quite outside the 
 new proposition of the Scots nobles, but in March, 
 1582, Lennox wrote a foolish letter to Tassis, which 
 he sent by Creighton to Paris, laying bare the plan 
 and giving his adhesion to it ; but making all 
 manner of inflated and exaggerated demands. 
 
 Creighton had promised him, he said, 15,000 
 
THE SPANISH ARMADA. 189 
 
 foreign troops, of which he was to have command, 
 and he asked in addition for a vast sum of money 
 and a personal guarantee against loss of fortune in 
 any event. Creighton also went to Guise and 
 brought him into the business, and Jesuit emissaries 
 were to go to Rome and Madrid to crave aid from 
 the Pope and Philip. Mary and Mendoza were 
 furious at the ineptitude of Lennox and the priests, 
 and Mary particularly that her name should be used 
 by them as being the head of the conspiracy. 
 Creighton had no authority whatever to promise 
 15,000 men, and the idea that Lennox was to have 
 command was absurd from a Spanish point of view. 
 Philip was alarmed too at the large number of 
 persons who were now concerned in the affair, and 
 directed that no further steps should be taken. 
 The inclusion of Guise in the project soon pro- 
 duced its result. He wanted naturally to take a 
 large and prominent part, and travelled to Paris to 
 meet Tassis secretly at Beaton's house. He was 
 full of far-reaching, ill-digested plans ; but his main 
 desire evidently was to prevent Spanish troops 
 from being sent to Scotland, for fear, he said, of the 
 jealousy of the French. His idea was that a large 
 mixed force should be sent from Italy under the 
 papal flag, whilst he made a descent with French- 
 men on the coast of Sussex. But all these fine 
 plans were soon frozen under the cold criticism of 
 Philip and de Granvelle. Philip, it is true, did not 
 yet think of conquering England for himself, but 
 Mary and James must owe the English crown to 
 him alone, and be bound to restore the close 
 alliance between England and Spain, or the change 
 would be of no use to him : and this could hardly 
 
igo THE EVOLUTION OF 
 
 be hoped for if there were too many French and 
 Italian troops concerned in the business, or if Guise 
 had the main direction of the enterprise. 
 
 Sir Francis Englefield was in Madrid as Philip's 
 adviser on English affairs, and both he and the 
 numerous English Catholic refugees in France, 
 Flanders, and Spain soon made it clear that their 
 national distrust and enmity of the French was 
 as keen as ever, whilst they looked sourly upon 
 any project which should make the Frenchified 
 Scots paramount over England. This feeling they 
 were careful to urge upon the Spaniards upon 
 every occasion, and it is not surprising that Philip 
 at last came to believe their assurances that all 
 England would welcome a Catholic restoration if 
 it came from their old friends the Spaniards, and 
 not from their old enemies the French. 
 
 From that time a change was apparent in Philip's 
 policy. When he heard of the Raid of Ruthven 
 and the flight of Lennox he saw that English 
 Protestant intrigue had conquered, and that the 
 Scottish-Catholic enterprise was at an end for a 
 time. Guise was to be flattered and conciliated, 
 but it is clear that henceforward Philip wished to 
 confine his (Guise's) attention to France. He was 
 told how dangerous it would be for him to leave 
 France with his enemies, the Huguenots, in pos- 
 session, and was emphatically assured of Spanish 
 support in his own ambitious plans at home. 
 
 Guise was flattered, but he could hardly be 
 expected to look upon Scottish affairs from Philip's 
 point of view. So he got one of his adherents, 
 young de Maineville, sent to Scotland to revive 
 the idea of the landing of foreign troops there. 
 
THE SPANISH ARMADA. 191 
 
 Beaton, who was thoroughly French, was just as 
 anxious to keep the matter afoot in Paris, but 
 Phihp had lost faith in the enterprise, and only kept 
 up an appearance of negotiation in order to main- 
 tain his hold upon the Guises and prevent them 
 from undertaking anything except under his patron- 
 age. De Maineville soon got on intimate terms 
 with James, but the Protestant lords were holding 
 him at the time, and Guise was informed by his 
 agent that the time was not now propitious for a 
 Catholic descent upon Scotland. 
 
 Guise thereupon came to the Spaniards in May, 
 1583, with a fresh plan. He had decided, he 
 said, to begin with the English Catholics. Eliza- 
 beth was first to be murdered and the country 
 raised, whilst he landed on the coast, but Philip 
 and the Pope must provide 100,000 crowns to 
 pay for it. His plans, as usual, however, were 
 vague and incomplete, and the English Catholics, 
 as well as Philip, looked coldly upon them. 
 Father Allen and the English exiles were in 
 deadly earnest, " and thought all this talk and 
 intricacy were mere buckler-play." Mendoza in 
 Paris reports to Philip that " they suspected a 
 tendency on the part of the Scots to claim a con- 
 trolling influence in the new empire, and as the 
 Scots are naturally inclined to the French, they 
 would rather the affair were carried through with 
 but few Spaniards, whilst the English hate this 
 idea, as their country is the principal one . . . and 
 they think it should not lose its predominance." 
 
 The English Catholics had a plan of their own 
 which they urged upon Philip. The English North 
 Country was to be raised simultaneously with the 
 
192 THE EVOLUTION OF 
 
 landing of a Spanish force in Yorkshire, accom- 
 panied by the Earl of Westmoreland, Lord Dacre, 
 and other nobles, with Allen as Nuncio and Bishop 
 of Durham, and some of the extreme Catholic 
 party, even in Scotland, distrusting the French, 
 favoured some such plan as this under purely 
 Spanish auspices. 
 
 Guise appears finally to have adopted a com- 
 bination of this plan and his own. The Spanish 
 forces were to land at Fouldrey, Dalton-in-Furness, 
 Lancashire, whilst the English North Country was 
 to be raised, and the Catholic Scots on the border 
 were to co-operate with the Spaniards. Guise at 
 the same time was to land in the south of England 
 with about 5,000 men. James VI., who had thrown 
 himself into Falkland and had assumed the reins 
 of government, was in complete accord with Guise 
 about it, but the latter, as usual, was for pushing 
 matters on far too rapidly to please Philip. He 
 (Guise) took upon himself to send a priest named 
 Melino to the Pope to ask him to furnish some 
 funds for the expedition and to explain the whole of 
 the particulars, and this deeply offended the King of 
 Spain, who had no idea of having matters arranged 
 over his head by such a bungler as Guise. The 
 latter also sent Charles Paget in disguise to Eng- 
 land in August, 1583, to inquire as to the amount 
 of support he might expect when he landed on the 
 south coast, and when Philip in due course saw the 
 instructions taken by Paget, it became clear to him 
 that he must somehow eliminate Guise from the 
 project. On the margin of the instructions Philip 
 scribbled sarcastic remarks as to the futility of 
 Guise's projecting a landing and sending full 
 
THE SPANISH ARMADA. 193 
 
 particulars of his plans to the Pope before he had 
 ascertained what support he could depend upon 
 when he did land. What opened Philip's eyes 
 more than anything else was that the English 
 " were to be assured on the faith and honour of 
 Guise that the enterprise is being undertaken with 
 no other object or intention than to re-establish 
 the Catholic religion in England and to place the 
 Queen of Scotland peacefully on the throne of 
 England, which rightly belongs to her. When 
 this is effected the foreigners will immediately retire 
 from the country, and if any one attempts to frus- 
 trate this intention Guise promises that he and his 
 forces will join the people of the country to compel 
 the foreigners to withdraw." 
 
 Well might Philip underline this and scatter notes 
 of exclamation around it, for it marked the parting 
 of the ways, and showed that Guise was more 
 anxious for his family aggrandisement and personal 
 ambition in placing his kin upon the English throne 
 than to serve the interests of Spain by securing a 
 close union between the two countries to the exclu- 
 sion of France, which was Philip's main object. 
 
 Guise was therefore told that he must not be 
 precipitate, and the matter was kept in suspense ; 
 but from that jnoment Philip decided to undertake 
 the matter alone. Allen and the English Catholics 
 had never ceased to urge upon him that his troops 
 should be landed first in England, and not in Scot- 
 land ; and this now obviously suited Philip best, as 
 he was growing more and more doubtful about 
 James' religious sincerity. Another fact must have 
 also influenced him greatly in the same direction. 
 His great admiral, Santa Cruz, had just brilliantly 
 
 14 
 
194 THE EVOLUTION OF 
 
 routed the French mercenary fleet in the service of 
 the Portuguese pretender at the Azores, and in the 
 flush of victory had written to Philip begging to 
 be allowed to direct his conquering fleet against 
 England. " Do not miss the opportunity, sire," he 
 wrote, "and believe me I have the will to make you 
 king of that country and others besides." The 
 grand old sailor made light of the difficulties, and 
 besought the King to let him go and conquer 
 England in the name of God and Spain. But 
 Philip was not ready for that yet, and the idea 
 was only now being forced by events into his slow 
 mind that perhaps he might be obliged, after all, 
 to claim England for his own, since the English 
 Catholics were for ever saying they wanted no 
 French or Scotsmen ; and not a single English 
 pretender was otherwise than Protestant. So Santa 
 Cruz was told that the King would consider the 
 matter, and in the meanwhile provide for eventuali- 
 ties by ordering large supplies of biscuits, and by 
 gradually sending men to Flanders. At the same 
 time he wrote to his ambassador in Paris, telling 
 him in confidence that he intended in due time to 
 invade England from Flanders, but no one was to 
 learn this until the preparations had advanced too 
 far to be concealed ; " and even then they (the 
 French) must be told in such terms as may not 
 make them suspect an intention of excluding the 
 French from the enterprise." 
 
 But what is of more importance still, Philip gave 
 directions in the same letter to Tassis in November, 
 1583, that his own claim to the English crown as a 
 descendant of Edward III. should be cautiously 
 broached. If England was to remain in close 
 
THE SPANISH ARMADA. 195 
 
 alliance with Spain, it is difficult to see what other 
 course Philip could have taken. James as a suc- 
 cessor to his mother was now out of the question, 
 so far as Spanish interests were concerned, for he 
 was playing false all round. No sooner did the 
 Scots Catholics gain the upper hand than he 
 intrigued with Elizabeth and the Protestants for 
 their overthrow, and immediately the English and 
 Protestant faction became paramount he wrote 
 beseeching letters for aid to Guise and the Pope. 
 All this, of course, Philip knew, for he knew every- 
 thing, and although he intended to put Mary Stuart 
 on the throne, from this time he was determined 
 that her son should not succeed her. 
 
 The discovery of the Throgmorton plot and 
 Guise's wild plans in connection therewith threw 
 the whole project into the background for a time, 
 and confirmed stealthy Philip in the idea that in 
 future he must manage matters himself. When 
 Tassis, his ambassador in Paris, was withdrawn 
 from his post, in the spring of 1584, he wrote an 
 important memorandum to his master setting forth 
 at length the arguments on both sides for and 
 against a landing in England or Scotland, by which 
 it is clear that the English and Scottish Catholic 
 factions in France were now bitterly at issue on the 
 subject. As the English plan had gained ground, 
 James had once more considered it advisable to 
 feign a desire to become a Catholic ; and Guise had 
 again urg"ed the adoption of the plan of a landing 
 in Scotland, with the invasion of England over the 
 Scots border, James himself being the figurehead. 
 Tassis says that such is the jealousy of the Scots 
 in England that if an army crossed the Border the 
 
196 THE EVOLUTION OF 
 
 English Catholics themselves might resist it. " The 
 English," he says, " would not like to be dominated 
 by Scotsmen, and if the crown of Scotland is to be 
 joined to theirs, they still wish to be cocks-of-the- 
 walk, as their kingdom is the larger and more 
 important one. On the other hand the Scots may 
 be unduly inflated with the opposite idea, so that 
 imperfections may exist on both sides." As Mary 
 Stuart had drawn closer to Spain she had grown 
 distrustful of Beaton and Tassis, whom she con- 
 sidered too much wedded to French ideas ; but 
 withal Tassis in this document very emphatically 
 leans to the English view, which he knew was that 
 now held by his master. The full plan for a great 
 armada was evidently slowly germinating in Philip's 
 mind, but the vast expense had first to be provided 
 for. When Guise's envoy, Melino, had gone on 
 his meddling mission to the Pope his Holiness had 
 offered to subsidise the expedition to a moderate 
 amount, and in answer to the second appeal from 
 James VI. himself he had said that he would stand 
 by his previous promise. But this did not suit 
 Philip, and he let the Pope know promptly that 
 he was willing to undertake the great task for the 
 glory of God and the advance of the Church, but 
 that the Pope must subscribe very largely indeed, 
 "and must find ways and means through his 
 holy zeal to do much more than has yet been 
 imagined." He was also warned that Guise ought 
 not to be allowed to leave France, where he mioht 
 serve the Catholic cause so much more effectively 
 than elsewhere. And so Guise and the Scotsmen 
 are pushed further and further into the background, 
 Philip's aim being evidently to raise civil com- 
 
THE SPANISH ARMADA. 197 
 
 motion in France, which was always easy enough 
 to do, and so to paralyse Henry III. and the 
 Huguenots from helping Elizabeth, whilst Guise 
 would be powerless to promote the interest in 
 England of his kinsman James. 
 
 When it became apparent that the Pope was to 
 have a large share in the business the intrigue was 
 transferred from Paris to Rome. Sixtus himself was 
 wise, frugal, and moderate, and had no great desire to 
 serve Philip's political aims, but only to signalise his 
 own pontificate by the restoration of England to the 
 Church ; but he was surrounded by cardinals who 
 represented the different interests. Medici, D'Este, 
 Gonzaga, Rusticucci, Santorio, and others repre- 
 sented the French view, which was in favour of 
 an arrangement with Elizabeth and James, and 
 desired to exclude Spanish influence from England. 
 Sanzio watched Guise's interests, whilst the Secre- 
 tary of State Caraffa, Sirleto, Como, Allen, and 
 the Spanish ambassador, Olivares, craftily forwarded 
 Philip's wishes, the Pope himself being carefully 
 kept in the dark as to the ultimate object in view. 
 The cause of religion was invoked all through as 
 being Philip's only motive ; inconvenient points 
 were left indefinite, with the certainty that Caraffa 
 would interpret them favourably to Spanish designs ; 
 and by the most extraordinary cajolery the Pope 
 was induced to promise a million gold crowns to 
 the enterprise. He was not brought to this with- 
 out much haggling and misgiving on his part, and 
 was very cautiously treated with regard to Philip's 
 intention to claim the English crown. " His Holi- 
 ness," writes Olivares, " is quite convinced that your 
 Majesty is not thinking of the crown of England 
 
198 THE EVOLUTION OF 
 
 for yourself, and told Cardinal D'Este so. I did 
 not say anything to the contrary. He is very far 
 from thinking your Majesty has any such views, 
 and when the matter is broached to him he will be 
 much surprised. However deeply he is pledged to 
 abide by your Majesty's opinion, I quite expect he 
 will raise some difficulty." Philip's constant orders 
 were that the Pope should be plied with arguments 
 as to the inadvisibility of the heretic James being 
 allowed to succeed, and the need for choosing some 
 good Catholic to succeed Mary. The person that 
 Philip had decided to make sovereign of England 
 was his favourite daughter, Isabel Clara Eugenia, 
 but this was not to be mentioned to the Pope. 
 " But if at any time the Pope moved by his zeal 
 should talk about any other successor, you will 
 remind him, before he gets wedded to his new 
 idea, that he is pledged to agree to my choice in 
 the matter." 
 
 In the meanwhile Allen, Persons, and the other 
 English Catholics, were ceaseless in their steady 
 propagation of the idea of Philip's own right to the 
 crown, in consequence of the heresy of James, and 
 the same view was forced upon Mary Stuart by 
 Mendoza and her English confidants in Paris, all of 
 whom were pensioners of Spain. At length Mary 
 was convinced, and wrote to Mendoza at the end of 
 June, 1586, saying she had disinherited her son in 
 favour of Philip. 
 
 The full plan of the Armada had now assumed 
 definite form. The King was in possession of 
 Santa Cruz's marvellously complete estimate of 
 cost and requirements of all sorts — a perfect monu- 
 ment of technical knowledge and forethought ; the 
 
THE SPANISH ARMADA. 199 
 
 Pope was pledged to find about a third of the 
 necessary funds, and to leave Philip a free hand 
 with regard to the English succession and the time 
 for the carrying out of the enterprise ; whilst 
 Philip's position with regard to his claim to the 
 English crown was regularised by Mary's will in 
 his favour. 
 
 Guise, Beaton, and the Scots had thus been 
 routed all along the line, but it was not to be sup- 
 posed that they would accept their defeat without a 
 struggle. Their next move was within an ace of 
 being successful, and nearly changed the whole plan 
 of the Armada. In July, 1586, Guise wrote to 
 Mendoza that a plan he had long been concocting 
 had at last been brought to a head, and Beaton was 
 commissioned to tell Mendoza what the scheme 
 was. A Scottish gentleman named Robert Bruce 
 had been sent to France with three blank sheets, 
 signed respectively by Lords Huntly, Morton, and 
 Claude Hamilton, which Guise was to fill up over 
 the signatures with letters to Philip, appealing to 
 him to aid the Scots Catholics. They asked for 
 6,000 foreign troops for one year and 150,000 
 crowns to equip their own men, and in return 
 promised to restore Catholicism, release James and 
 his mother, compel the former to become a Catholic, 
 and, most tempting of all, to deliver to Philip one 
 or two good ports near the English Border to be 
 used against the Queen of England. Bruce went 
 to Madrid to lay the Scots' appeal before the King, 
 but when he arrived the failure of the Babington 
 plot and the collapse of the Catholic party in Eng- 
 land was known to Philip, and he had lost hope of 
 effecting the "enterprise" except with overwhelm- 
 
200 THE EVOLUTION OF 
 
 ing forces of his own. He did not wish, moreover, 
 for Guise's interference, and was coolly sympathetic 
 and no more. And yet, in the face of Santa Cruz's 
 advice that he should secure some ports of refuge 
 for the Armada in the North Sea, the offer of the 
 Scots lords to give him two good Scotch harbours 
 was one not to be lightly refused, so whilst he sent 
 Bruce back with vague promises, he instructed 
 Parma and Mendoza to report fully on the scheme. 
 Parma was cold and irresponsive. He would give 
 no decided opinion until he knew what Philip's 
 intentions were. He was apparently jealous that 
 he was not taken fully into his uncle's confidence, 
 and perhaps angry that his son's claims to the 
 English crown, which were better than those of 
 Philip and his daughter, were being ignored. But 
 Mendoza, an old soldier, the last pupil of Alba, as 
 he called himself, was indignant at Parma's doubts, 
 and wrote to Philip an extremely able paper 
 strongly advising the invasion of England through 
 Scotland, instead of risking everything in a vast 
 fleet, to which one disaster would cripple Spain for 
 ever. In prophetic words he foretold the possi- 
 bility of the very catastrophe which subsequently 
 happened, and prayed Philip, ere it was too late, 
 to close with the Scots lords' offer. But Philip and 
 Parma were slow and wanted all sorts of assur- 
 ances ; so Bruce was kept in France and Flanders 
 for many months, whilst his principals lost hope 
 and heart. At last, when they were on the point 
 of going over to the Protestant side, on a promise 
 of toleration for their religion, Bruce was tardily 
 sent back with 10,000 crowns to freight a number 
 of small boats at Leith to send over to Dunkirk for 
 
THE SPANISH ARMADA. 201 
 
 Parma's troops, and the 150,000 crowns demanded 
 by the lords were promised when they rose. 
 
 During all this time the juggle in Rome was going 
 on. Gradually Sixtus was familiarised with the idea 
 that Philip could not go to war for the sake of putting 
 heretic James on the throne ; then Allen took care 
 that he saw the genealogical tree showing Philip's 
 claim, and at last, in the summer of 1587, it was 
 cautiously hinted to him that, though Philip would 
 not add England to his dominions, he might per- 
 haps appoint his daughter to the throne. Sanzio, 
 Mendovi and the French cardinals were straining 
 every nerve to persuade the Pope that the King of 
 Scots might be converted, and the Capuchin monk 
 Bishop of Dunblane, amongst others, went to 
 Scotland for the purpose of forwarding this view. 
 
 The result of Bruce's appeal at Madrid was 
 concealed from Guise, but of course he learnt it 
 indirectly, and was greatly indignant at his exclu- 
 sion from a project of which he was the originator. 
 It was really no secret, however, for in July, 1587, 
 Father Creighton, sent by Guise, arrived in Rome 
 full of it ; he, like other Scotsmen, being in favour 
 of James' conversion and his acceptance by Spain 
 as King of England. But Allen, Persons, and the 
 rest of them soon silenced Creighton, with threats, 
 cajolery, and money. 
 
 When Catharine de Medici got wind of the 
 business she seems "to have thought it a good 
 opportunity for getting rid of Guise and check- 
 mating Philip at the same time, and urged him 
 (Guise) to go himself to aid his kinsman James to 
 the crown, in which case she would largely subsidise 
 him ; and Guise himself was so incensed at the way 
 
202 THE EVOLUTION OF 
 
 Philip had treated him that he threatened to divulge 
 the whole of Bruce's plot to James, and very prob- 
 ably did so. Elizabeth, too, sent young Gary to 
 warn James of what was going on, so that when 
 Bruce arrived in Scotland the King was fully 
 prepared for him ; and although he appeared to 
 acquiesce in the hint from Bruce that the Spaniards 
 would aid him to avenge his mother, he was now 
 surrounded by ministers favourable to the Protestant 
 interest, who saw that James had more to hope for 
 from Elizabeth than from Philip, and the matter was 
 deferred indefinitely. It was late in autumn when 
 Bruce arrived in Scotland, too late in the season to 
 freight ships, and he suggested that in the following 
 summer ships for the transport of Parma's 6,000 
 men to Leith should be freighted in Flanders. 
 This was impossible — in fact, the long delay whilst 
 Philip and Parma were hesitating had ruined the 
 project, which was now public and consequently 
 impracticable, though Bruce and the Scottish lords 
 continued to clamour for Spanish men and money 
 until the Armada appeared. And so again Philip's 
 want of promptness lost this chance, which might 
 have saved the Armada. 
 
 By this time, late in the year 1587, the final plan 
 of the Armada had been settled. Parma had received 
 his full instructions from Philip some months before ; 
 all Spain and Catholic Christendom were ringing 
 with preparations for the fray, and the great fleet 
 — or what Drake had left intact of it on his summer 
 trip to Cadiz — was mustering at Lisbon under gallant 
 old Santa Cruz, who was already dying broken- 
 hearted at the neglect of his wise precautions, at 
 the confusion, waste, and ineptitude which fore- 
 boded the crowning disaster. 
 
THE SPANISH ARMADA. 203 
 
 With the subsequent mishaps and catastrophe this 
 study is not concerned. My object has been to 
 show how circumstances drove Philip to adopt the 
 course he did, both with regard to the invasion itself 
 and his claim to the English crown ; and to demon- 
 strate that the ostensible prime object of the Armada, 
 the conversion of England to Catholicism, although 
 undoubtedly desired by Philip, was mainly used as 
 a means to his real end — namely, a close political 
 alliance with England, without which Spain was 
 inevitably doomed to the impotence which eventu- 
 ally fell upon her. 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 (a history of the sumptuary laws in SPAIN.) 
 
 It is a curious reflection that whilst all the serious 
 acts and surroundings of civilised life have been 
 rendered amenable to the law, whilst the very 
 instincts inherent in the nature of mankind have 
 been dominated and regulated by authority, utter 
 failure has attended the persistent efforts of rulers 
 to cope with the trivial follies of fashion, or to limit 
 the vanity and extravagance of personal adornment. 
 For long ages men, and particularly women, have 
 insisted upon making themselves absurd and un- 
 comfortable, at great cost and in an infinite variety 
 of ways, in obedience to dictates or impulses springing 
 from nobody knows where, and have only consented 
 to forego each succeeding caprice when the taste for 
 it has worn itself out and has given place to another, 
 perhaps still more preposterous than its predecessor. 
 It has been from no fault of the rulers that they have 
 
2o8 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 been beaten in their fight with fashion, for they have 
 tried their hardest for centuries. Our Plantagenet 
 and Tudor sovereigns made many attempts to regu- 
 late the dress and adornment of their subjects, but 
 the motive which mainly prompted them was the 
 desire to differentiate the classes and prevent the 
 humbler citizens from emulating, in appearance at 
 least, their social superiors. In a state of society 
 which depended upon the subjection of the majority 
 by the privileged classes, this motive was perfectly 
 reasonable ; as was also the alternative one of pro- 
 tecting a particular national industry, which, in Tudor 
 times especially, often furnished a reason for the 
 imposition of sumptuary enactments ; but both of 
 these motives, from their very nature, were neces- 
 sarily more or less ephemeral and artificial, because, 
 on the one hand, the continual social development, 
 the growing wealth of the traders and the emanci- 
 pation of the labourers made the classes interdepen- 
 dent ; and, on the other, the extended seaboard of 
 England and the maritime enterprise of the inhabi- 
 tants made the protection of a particular industry 
 by prohibiting foreign competition impossible for 
 any great length of time. The attempted inter- 
 ference, therefore, of English sovereigns with the 
 dress of their lieges was intermittent and spasmodic, 
 and was, at a comparatively early period, admitted 
 to be useless. 
 
 Such, however, from various reasons was not the 
 case in Spain. There the fight against finery was 
 kept up persistently for nearly six centuries, 
 and hardly a decade passed during that time 
 1 without one or more petty and ridiculous attempts 
 being made to interfere with the dress, food 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 209 
 
 personal habits, and surroundings of the people. 
 The ostensible motives were usually different from 
 those which operated in England. The separation 
 of the classes has never been so complete in Spain 
 as elsewhere in Europe, owing to the fact that from 
 a very early period in the history of the country all 
 Christians were banded together and dependent upon 
 one another for protection against the common enemy, 
 the infidel. Manual industry, moreover, was never 
 a strong point with Spanish Christians, and the main 
 reason for the various attempts to exclude foreign 
 goods was the dread that Spanish gold would be 
 sent out to pay for them. Nothing is more striking, 
 indeed, than the absolutely murderous effect upon 
 Spanish industry exerted by most of the paternal 
 attempts at interference with trade, but political 
 economy was even more of a dead letter amongst 
 that nation of warriors than with our own ancestors. 
 The earliest object of the greatmass of sumptuary laws 
 in Spain was to restrict the dreaded taste for luxury 
 and splendour which was felt to be a characteristic 
 of the hated Moor, who had been conquered bit by 
 bit by people who were content to live roughly, feed 
 frugally, and dress plainly. But with victory came 
 wealth, with peace came intermixture, and the subtle, 
 refined, Oriental blood, with its love of pomp and 
 brilliancy, gradually permeated the rough Gothic- 
 Iberians, until its manifestations alarmed rulers 
 whose power still largely depended upon the self- 
 sacrificing frugality and hardy endurance of their 
 subjects. Thus it was that the attempt was made 
 to keep people frugal and, homely whilst they were 
 growing rich, and the tendency continued during all 
 the centuries that the struggle against Spanish luxury 
 
 15 
 
2IO A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 went on, although during the last three centuries of 
 the period the original motive had disappeared, and 
 the usual excuse for the interference of the King 
 with the dress of his subjects was the desire to 
 prevent them from spending so much money upon 
 themselves, in order that they might spend more 
 upon him. 
 
 But, whatever the motives may have been, the 
 fight against extravagance was carried on as per- 
 sistently as fruitlessly until quite recent times, and 
 there exists a mass of information with regard to the 
 dress and manners of the people in the Spanish 
 sumptuary enactments unequalled elsewhere. The 
 decrees usually took the form of a representation 
 from the Cortes to the sovereign, setting forth in 
 a preamble the particular abuses to be remedied, 
 and then proposing a remedy which the sovereign 
 usually confirmed by what was called his "pragmatic 
 sanction," and the decree was then proclaimed and 
 had the force of law. A large number of these 
 decrees or "pragmatics" of the highest interest 
 will be foun d in the British Museum manuscripts 
 (MSS. Add. 9933 and 9934) , and many more are 
 set lorth m Sempere's " Historia de las leves sun- 
 tuarias " (Madrid, i788) . whilst the familiar and 
 festive traditions of old Madrid teem with quaint 
 stories of ingenious evasions and jovial defiance 
 of the laws under the very noses of the sable-clad 
 Acaldes and Alguaciles, whose grave and solemn 
 duty it was to clip lovelocks and measure frills 
 and furbelows. 
 
 The first vicious extravagance which seizes upon 
 a hardy, simple people who find themselves safe 
 after a period of struggle is naturally that of 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 211 
 
 gluttony ; and the earliest sumptuary decrees of 
 the Castilian kings were directed against this 
 particular excess. 
 
 In point of date the first decree extant in Spain 
 of a sumptuary character was that issued by Don 
 Jaime (El Conquistador) of Aragon in 1234. He 
 was extremely devout and ascetic himself, and was 
 shocked at the growing extravagance of his subjects, 
 who having in his remote mountain kingdom finally 
 expelled the Moors, turned their attention to tourneys, 
 shows, and mimic warfare, at which great sums were 
 spent both in feasting and adornment. The Jews 
 too, who at the time nearly monopolised Spanish 
 trade, encouraged the growing taste for the fine stuffs 
 and precious ornaments, from the sale of which they 
 derived so large a profit. So in 1234 Don Jaime 
 decreed from his capital of Zaragoza that no subject 
 of his should sit down to a meal of more than one 
 dish of stewed, and one of roast meat, unless it were 
 dried and salted. As much game as they pleased 
 might be eaten, on condition that it had been hunted 
 by the eater, but otherwise only one dish of game 
 might be served. No jongleur or minstrel might eat 
 with ladies and gentlemen, and no striped or bordered 
 stuffs were to be worn. Gold and silver, as well as 
 tinsel, were prohibited, and ermine and other furs 
 were only to be used as a trimming to hoods and 
 hanging sleeves. Jaime since his childhood had 
 been trying to crush the rising power of his feudal 
 nobles, and had already embarked on that long career 
 of conquest by which he subdued the Moorish king- 
 doms of Majorca and Valencia, so that, although he 
 himself was now safe in his mountain realm from 
 invasion, his decree was as much prompted by his 
 
212 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 dread of the softening effect of luxury upon his 
 subjects as by his own rough, simple tastes. 
 
 His kinsman of Castile was in worse case, for his 
 dominions were more open to the Moor. Saint 
 Ferdinand conquered the splendid Moorish city of 
 Seville in 1248, where he died four years later, 
 leaving his son, Alonso the Wise, to succeed him 
 as King of Castile. Oriental luxury surrounded 
 the frugal Castilians on all hands. The wealth of 
 plundered cities, the spoils of Moslem palaces were 
 to be had for the grasping, so that it was natural 
 that extravagance in attire and eating should soon 
 threaten to soften the Christian conquerors dwelling 
 in the midst of the gentler, vanquished Moor. 
 Alonso the Wise, in 1256, therefore issued in 
 Seville his first great sumptuary enactment. By 
 it no saddles were allowed to be covered or 
 trimmed with plush. No gold or silver tinsel 
 was to adorn them, excepting as a border of three 
 inches wide, the saddle itself being of uncovered 
 leather. Gold and silver might be used on caps, 
 girdles, quilted doublets, saddle-cloths or table- 
 covers, but not for draping shields or cuirasses. 
 No jingling bells were to be used as trimmings, 
 except on the saddle-cloths at the cane-throwing 
 tourneys, but even then no device was to be 
 embroidered on the cloths. Bosses upon the 
 shields were not to be allowed, but the latter 
 might be adorned with a painted or gilded-copper 
 device. No milled cloth was to be worn, nor were 
 the garments to be cut and pinked in fanciful shapes, 
 or trimmed with ribbons or silk cords ; the penalty 
 for infringing any of these regulations being the loss 
 of one or both thumbs by the offender, which of 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 213 
 
 course meant his disgrace and ruin in the career 
 of arms. Women were allowed a little more 
 latitude, but not much. They might wear ermine 
 and otter fur to any extent, but they were forbidden 
 to adorn their girdles with beads or seed-pearls, or 
 to border their kirtles or wimples with gold or silver 
 thread, or to wear them of any other colour than 
 white. 
 
 With regard to eating, Alonso the Wise held 
 similar notions to those of his neighbour Don 
 Jaime, and ordered that his lieges should not have 
 upon their tables more than two dishes of meat and 
 one of bought game, and on fast days not more than 
 two kinds of fish. As if recognising the difficulty 
 of enforcing this, the King solemnly undertook to 
 comply with his own regulations. Great extravagance 
 had arisen in wedding feasts, which were said (as in 
 Oriental countries they do to-day) to often ruin the 
 contracting families, and Alonso made strict rules to 
 limit the excess in this direction. No presents of 
 breeches were to be given, and the entire cost of a 
 weddingf outfit was not to exceed 60 maravedis, 
 whilst not more than five men and as many women 
 might be invited to the wedding banquet by each 
 of the contracting parties. The money spent upon 
 marriage rejoicings, indeed, had become so great that 
 Alonso made this reform a great point in his decree, 
 and provided against evasion by strictly limiting the 
 time during which the feast might continue and 
 wedding presents be given. Moors were said to 
 be dressing like Christians, and this was rigidly 
 forbidden. They were to wear no red or green 
 clothes, and no white or gold shoes, and their hair 
 was to be parted plainly in the middle of the head. 
 
214 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 with no topknot, whilst they were enjoined to wear 
 their full beard, which made the distinction between 
 them and the shaven-chinned Christians the more 
 marked. The penalties imposed for disobeying this 
 decree of 1256 were savage in the extreme, vary- 
 ing from loss of a thumb and a fine for the first 
 offence, to death for the third ; but savage as they 
 were, they can hardly have been effectual, except 
 perhaps in Seville, for only two years later, in 
 1258, Alonso came out with a perfect code of 
 conduct for his subjects, far too minute to even 
 summarise here, but of which some specimens may 
 be given, as they served as a model for subsequent 
 decrees for many years afterwards. Alonso had 
 apparently got tired of his self-denying ordinance 
 and says the King may eat and dress as he 
 pleases, but agrees to limit his daily table expen- 
 diture to 150 maravedis a day, which in spending 
 power would represent about £40 at the present 
 time at least. But he orders his "ricoshomes," 
 ruling men, to eat more sparingly and to spend 
 less money. None of the members of the royal 
 household, squires, scribes, falconers, or porters, 
 except the head of each department, were allowed 
 to wear white fur or trimmings, or to use gilt or plated 
 saddles or spurs. They were forbidden to indulge 
 in breeches of scarlet cloth, gilt shoes, and hats of 
 gold or silver tissue. Priests, it appears, had been 
 reducing the size of their tonsures and ruffling in 
 fine colours, so as to be undistinguishable from 
 laymen, and they are sternly ordered to have their 
 tonsures the full size of their heads, gird themselves 
 with a rope, and eschew red, green, and pink gar- 
 ments. The old regulations about eating were 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 215 
 
 repeated with the addition of one plate of meat 
 for supper, and the prohibition of fish on meat 
 days. No man, however rich, was to buy more 
 than four suits of clothes in a year, and no ermine, 
 silk, gold or silver tissue, no slashes, trimmings, or 
 pinked cloth might be worn by men. Two fur 
 mantles in a year, and one rain-cape in two years 
 was the limit of extravagance allowed to a man in 
 this direction ; and the King alone was to wear a red 
 rain-cape. Lawn and silk for outer garments were 
 confined to royalty, but the " ricoshomes " might 
 employ them as linings. No crystal or silver 
 buttons were to be allowed, nor was shaving or 
 other signs of mourning permitted, except to vassals 
 who had lost their overlord and to widows. Jews 
 and Moors are cruelly treated in this decree, and 
 their offences and those of the poorer classes are 
 to be punished by torture or death, whilst those 
 of the " ricoshomes " are left to the King's dis- 
 cretion. Ermine, vair, and otter furs would appear 
 to have been amongst the principal articles of luxury, 
 as the wearing of them is very strictly regulated, and 
 white furs seem to come next in estimation after 
 them. 
 
 For ninety years these laws of Alonso the Wise 
 were repeated and reimposed with slight variations, 
 but apparently ineffectually ; since in 1 348 the Cortes 
 of Alcala made a presentment to Alonso XI. of 
 Castile bewailing the luxury and extravagance of the 
 age, and proposing a new code of sumptuary rules, 
 which in due course the King confirmed. These 
 rules are very interesting because they demonstrate 
 the great strides which had been made in luxury, re- 
 finement, and civilisation since the issue of the decrees 
 
2i6 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 of Alonso the Wise nearly a century before. No gold 
 ornaments, no ermine or grebe-neck trimmings, no 
 seed-pearl embroidery, gold or silver buttons or wire, 
 and no enamels were to be worn except by nobles. 
 No gold tissue or silk was allowed except for linings, 
 and no man below the rank of a knight might wear 
 vair fur or gilt shoes. Even the princes of the blood 
 were strictly limited in their dress, and were ordered 
 to use tapestry cloth or silk, but without gold or trim- 
 ming of any sort. The Spartan wedding regulations 
 of Alonso the Wise had now become obsolete with 
 the advance of wealth, but the new rules, although 
 wider, were to be enforced with equal or greater 
 severity. No gentleman was to give his bride 
 within four months after marriage more than three 
 suits of clothes, one of which might be of gold tissue, 
 and one embroidered with seed-pearls to the value 
 of 4,000 maravedis, an enormous sum when we con- 
 sider that ninety years before 150 maravedis were 
 the limit of the monarch's daily expenditure, and 
 that at this date, 1348, the value of a sheep was 
 only eight maravedis. The bride's trousseau is 
 regulated down to the smallest details, and the 
 penalty for exceeding them is the loss of one-quarter 
 of his land by the too-generous gentleman who does 
 so. The decree sets forth that some women are 
 wearing trains, " which are both costly and useless," 
 but in future they are to be confined to those ladies 
 who are travelling in a litter — a privilege limited to 
 nobles. All other women are to wear pelisses with- 
 out trains, just reaching the ground, " or at least not 
 to drag more than two inches upon it." Ladies 
 who broke this rule were to be fined 500 mara- 
 vedis. Great stress is again laid upon the limi- 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 217 
 
 tation of extravagance in wedding feasts, and burials, 
 but the cost still allowed shows to what an excess 
 luxury had been carried. The bride's wedding 
 clothes might cost 4,000 maravedis and the groom's 
 outfit 2,000; and thirty-two people were now allowed 
 at the wedding feast. Much more latitude was 
 permitted in the use of seed-pearls, gold, and silver, 
 to people above the rank of knights, but the princi- 
 pal point to be noted in these decrees of Alonso XI. 
 is the incidence of the penalty. In the decrees of 
 Alonso the Wise, as has been shown, the most 
 savage penalties were imposed upon the poorer 
 classes, whilst the punishment of the nobles was left 
 to the King's discretion. But much more even 
 justice is dealt out by Alonso XI. The nobles who 
 break the law are to lose one-quarter of their land, 
 the knights one-third, the citizens 500 maravedis, 
 whilst the poorer classes for slight offences against 
 the sumptuary rules are condemned to lose the 
 offending garment and its cost in money. 
 
 But whatever the penalty might be, extravagance, 
 checked in one direction, broke out in another, and 
 Peter the Cruel, the son of Alfonso XL, only a few 
 years after the date of the decree just mentioned, 
 issued a complete sumptuary code in which the 
 punishments were positively ferocious. Fines, 
 scourging, mutilation, and banishment for first and 
 second offences, and death for the third, were im- 
 posed for the smallest infraction. Peter was par- 
 ticularly hard on priests, who were said to be 
 swaggering about with women, tricked out in gay 
 finery, and they were ordered in future to be sober 
 and frugal, wearing no ornaments of any kind, and 
 only sad-coloured garb. Workmen, too, were to 
 
2i8 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 labour from sunrise to sunset for a fixed wage on 
 pain of punishment as severe as those imposed by 
 our own labour laws. The King, moreover, fixed 
 stringently the cost which was to be incurred by 
 cities and towns in entertaining him when he visited 
 them. The dietary scale appears a pretty generous 
 one from the point of view of to-day, consisting as 
 it does of 45 sheep at 8 maravedis each, 22 dozen of 
 dry fish at 1 2 maravedis a dozen, 90 maravedis worth 
 of fresh fish, with pork, grain, wine, &c. ; the total 
 value of the feast being limited to 1,850 maravedis. 
 Villages and nobles were not to spend more than 
 800 maravedis on a similar occasion. 
 
 In 1384 Peter the Cruel's nephew, John I. of 
 Castile, was well beaten by the Portuguese at the 
 battle of Aljubarrota, and marked his sorrow by 
 issuing a decree prohibiting the use in any form of 
 dress of silk, gold, silver, seed-pearls, precious stones, 
 or ornaments of any kind, and everybody was ordered 
 to don a simple mourning garb. When, four years 
 after this, John of Gaunt's daughter Catharine came 
 to marry the heir to the crown of Castile, she brought 
 something else with her besides the wide, pointed 
 coif which Spanish widows wore for the next three 
 hundred years. Part of her dower consisted of 
 great herds of merino sheep, which crossed and 
 thrived so well in Spain that the coarse duffel, which 
 had been the only native cloth, gave place in a few 
 years to beautiful fine woollen textures which could 
 vie with those of England and Flanders. 
 
 Intercourse between nations, the growth of wealth, 
 the spread of learning, and the advance of civilisation 
 were moving with giant strides. The soft arts of peace 
 were practised with greater success than ever, now 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 219 
 
 that the Moslem and the Christian were fast meref- 
 ing into one people in Seville and Toledo, and the 
 refinement of the one was strengthened by the 
 energy of the other. Beautiful stuffs, stiff with gold 
 and gems, gauzy silk, soft cloths, and fine linens, 
 had no longer to be brought from the Moors or the 
 kingdoms across the sea. Seville, Toledo, and 
 Cordova could produce everything that the most 
 luxurious extravagance could desire, and the sump- 
 tuary laws for a time were forgotten. 
 
 In 1452 the Cortes of Palenzuela presented a 
 petition to John II. asking that the stringent 
 sumptuary code of Alonso XI. should be re- 
 enforced. The King, in reply, admitted that the 
 law was a dead letter, and that the extravagance 
 in dress was greater than ever. He says that 
 gold tissue and silks are now ordinary wear, and 
 that gold trimmings and marten-fur linings are used 
 even by people of low estate. " Actually working 
 women," he says, "now wear clothes that are only 
 fit for fine ladies ; and people of all ranks sell every- 
 thing they possess in order to adorn their persons.'' 
 Still the remedy proposed to him of a revival of the 
 stern code of a hundred years before he saw was an 
 impossible one, and the matter was held in suspense. 
 He died soon afterwards, and his feeble successor, 
 Henry IV., was equally powerless to stem the rising 
 tide of industry and wealth with their natural conse- 
 quences. 
 
 In 1469, during the interregnum which followed 
 the deposition of Henry, the Master of Santiago 
 issued a proclamation deploring the growing 
 extravagance of the age, and enjoining more 
 moderation. Amongst other similar things it says, 
 
220 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 " Such is the pomp and vanity now general, even 
 amongst labourers and poor people in their dress 
 and that of their wives, that in appearance they seek 
 to vie with persons of rank, whereby they not only 
 squander their own estates but bring great poverty 
 and want to all classes." But it was useless : and 
 luxury went unchecked until Ferdinand and Isabel 
 the Catholic were firmly seated on the twin throne 
 of a united Spain and the last Moslem stronghold 
 had fallen. Then, in 1495, a "pragmatic" was 
 issued which superseded all previous obsolete sump- 
 tuary codes and established a new one, which formed 
 the model for similar decrees for the next two cen- 
 turies. Probably a more economically unwise decree 
 under the circumstances was never penned. All 
 other previous pragmatics had forbidden the wear- 
 ing of extravagant apparel, and this did the same, 
 especially severely as regarded the precious metals ; 
 but it did more than this. It absolutely forbade the 
 introduction and sale of every sort of gold and silver 
 tissue, and rendered criminal the exercise in Spain 
 of the industry of embroidering or weaving gold, 
 silver, and every other metal. The Christianised 
 populations of the south of Spain were greatly excel- 
 ling already in this industry. Their gold embroi- 
 deries on velvet were in great demand for church 
 vestments and royal trappings all over Europe. The 
 taste for chivalrous splendour was not confined to 
 Spain, and the beautiful half-Oriental tissues of 
 Andalusia were eagerly sought for in every Court ; 
 gold was just beginning to find its way direct to 
 Spain from the new-found Indies, and if the industry 
 had remained untrammelled there was no reason 
 why the country should not have provided the world 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 221 
 
 with textile splendours to its own great advantage. 
 The ingenious, industrious people — for they were 
 industrious until the strangling of their handicrafts 
 made them idle — did their best to avert ruin. In 
 1498, only three years afterwards, the Cortes made 
 a presentment to the Queen saying that things were 
 worse than ever. It was true that gold brocade was 
 no longer made and the wicked waste of the pre- 
 cious metal was thus avoided, but all sorts of strange 
 devices and novelties were being introduced in the 
 manufacture of silks, whereby the people were 
 tempted to squander their money on useless finery. 
 The Spanish silk factories were then the finest in 
 Europe, and great quantities of raw silk were raised 
 in the south-east of the Peninsula : and yet a " prag- 
 matic " was issued the next year, 1499, stringently 
 forbidding the manufacture, sale, or use of silk, 
 except for lining. It was a staggering blow to a 
 flourishing industry, and in order to prevent total 
 ruin a decree was given that no raw silk from 
 abroad was to be introduced into the country, and 
 only Spanish-grown silk used. But this was not 
 enough, and some of the silk-making provinces, 
 reduced to desperation, petitioned for the relaxation 
 of the law. Their prayer was granted, as if in 
 irony, to the extent of allowing them to wear silk 
 against the law. But they did not want to wear 
 silk, but to make it for other people to wear, and 
 their industry languished, never entirely to recover. 
 By the time Isabel the Catholic had died the 
 Spanish silk industry was nearly at an end, and the 
 skittish young Bearnaise princess, Germaine de Foix, 
 who succeeded her as old Fernando's wife, came 
 too late to do it much good. It is true she snapped 
 
222 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 her slender fingers and threw up her pretty chin at 
 the straitlaced sumptuary laws, and surrounded her- 
 self with silks and velvets, gold brocade and gems, 
 wherever she went ; but unfortunately they mostly 
 came from the looms and workshops of Southern 
 France, and gave no work to Spanish hands. 
 Money, of course, had to be sent out of Spain to 
 pay for the finery, and in 1 5 1 5 the Cortes of Burgos 
 complained of this to Jane the Mad, Isabel's 
 nominal successor, who thereupon issued a decree 
 entirely forbidding brocades and gold or silver em- 
 broidery and trimmings to be worn at all, and 
 strictly limiting the wearing of silk in any form to 
 people of rank. 
 
 But Jane's power was the merest shadow ; Spain 
 was in the throes of a great struggle for its demo- 
 cratic institutions, which it lost, and no notice 
 was taken of poor Crazy Jane's decree. If she 
 understood it she probably had as little sym- 
 pathy with it as her young stepmother, for she had 
 lived for years with her handsome husband Philip 
 as head of the most pompous and splendid Court in 
 Europe, in busy Flanders, surrounded by all the 
 traditional magnificence of the house of Burgundy, 
 and her young son, the coming Emperor Chares V., 
 Fleming as he was by birth and instinct, was even 
 less likely than she to revert willingly to the simple, 
 democratic, and patriarchal traditions of the Spanish 
 Court. 
 
 He came to his new country with a whole 
 host of Burgundian, Flemish, and German nobles, 
 whose taste for finery had never been checked ; and 
 whatever decrees Charles might issue for the dress 
 of his people, he and his Court were the first to dis- 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 223 
 
 regard the letter and spirit of his precepts. It is 
 not to be wondered at, therefore, that they were not 
 obeyed for long together by any one else. The 
 initiative, moreover, did not come from the King or 
 his courtiers, but from the Cortes of Castile, who 
 were naturally swayed entirely by Spanish ideas, 
 of which Charles had at this time, boy as he was, 
 but little knowledge or sympathy. This was so 
 clearly recognised that when he was about to leave 
 Corunna in 1520 to assume the imperial crown, the 
 Cortes held there petitioned him at least to order 
 that the sumptuary laws with regard to silks, bro- 
 cades, gold embroideries, and gold and silver lace, 
 should be strictly enforced during his absence from 
 Spain, since they saw that, with such a Court as his, 
 they would not be enforced in his presence. But 
 the example of the Court had struck too deeply, and 
 the fury for splendour had now really taken hold of 
 the Spaniards, who in their ages of struggle had 
 been so simple and homely. 
 
 In the pragmatic of 1537 it is said that during 
 the Emperor's absence the use of brocades, silks, 
 and precious embroideries had increased more 
 than ever, and they are absolutely prohibited, 
 and the rigid law of 1498 again repeated. The 
 preamble of the decree of 1537 says that this 
 law against gold embroidery was generally evaded 
 by making the gold lace and devices separately 
 and then stitching them on to the cloth, which 
 cost much more even than embroidery would have 
 done ; and the making of such adornments was con- 
 sequently prohibited altogether. Only nine years 
 afterwards, in 1548, the Cortes of Valladolid made 
 a presentment to the Emperor saying that things 
 
224 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 were worse than ever, and the cost of clothes had 
 been increased instead of decreased by the ingenuity 
 of tailors, who had taken to the plan of cutting out 
 the most elaborate patterns of coloured cloth with 
 fine scissors and sewing them on to the cloth gar- 
 ments, almost covering the latter with delicate lace- 
 like snippet work of applied cloth. In face of this 
 abuse the Cortes prayed the Emperor to forbid the 
 use of any and every sort of trimming, lace, or 
 adornment on the garments, both of men and women, 
 which might give an excuse for the wicked tailors 
 to charge extravagant prices. Charles V. thought 
 this too sweeping, but in 1552 he issued a "prag- 
 matic " prohibiting the applied snippet work, and 
 also the use or manufacture of gold and silver lace 
 and ornaments, the wearing and making of velvets, 
 silks, and satins being also rigidly limited. Spain, 
 flooded with the precious metals from the Indies, 
 richer perhaps in actual bullion than ever a country 
 was before or since, with home-grown silk in abun- 
 dance, and the most deft and tasteful weavers in the 
 civilised world, was therefore obliged to import its 
 manufactured gold and fine stuffs from abroad, 
 whilst its own humbler citizens languished amidst 
 the wealth they were not allowed to earn. No 
 decrees could prevent rich people from squandering 
 their money on dress, least of all when the Emperor 
 and his Court were in a constant blaze of magnifi- 
 cence. 
 
 Philip II., who in his later years usually wore black 
 velvet trimmed with jet or bugles, with the simple 
 chain of the Golden Fleece about his neck, was in 
 his youth as splendid as his father ; and the prepara- 
 tions for his voyage to England to marry Mary 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 225 
 
 Tudor in 1554 included the making of more solid 
 magnificence in the way of dress than probably was 
 ever made for one event in modern history. His 
 son's valet ' was of a literary turn of mind, and has 
 left us a precise description of the dresses and trap- 
 pings made for Philip and his army of courtiers — the 
 flower of Spain — in which the language of extrava- 
 gance is exhausted. Horse furniture, bed-hangings, 
 canopies, quilts, and upholstery, as well as dress, 
 were all of satin or velvet covered with gold em- 
 broidery and seed-pearls. There were twenty great 
 nobles, Spaniards, Flemings, and Italians, each with 
 scores of followers, all dressed in silks and satins 
 with gold chains. Philip's German bodyguard, even, 
 of 100 troopers, wore facings of silk on the gaudy 
 red and yellow uniform of Aragon, and the common 
 sailors of the fleet had crimson silk caps with white 
 plumes. Some few amongst Philip's numerous suits 
 may be mentioned as an example of the dresses 
 then in vogue, although many of his nobles appear 
 to have fully rivalled him in splendour. For some 
 years, as has been shown, gold-embroidered dresses 
 had been strictly prohibited ; and Mufioz, in his 
 description of the sartorial wonders prepared for the 
 wedding, mentions the revival of gold embroidery 
 as a novelty. Prince Philip had one suit consisting 
 of surcoat, doublet, trunk-hose, and jacket of crimson 
 velvet covered with little lozenges formed of twisted 
 gold chains, the interstices being filled with a run- 
 ning sprig of silver braid, the leaves formed of silver 
 filigree. The surcoat was lined with silver cloth of 
 satin, embroidered in the same way. Another sur- 
 coat was of grey satin covered with alternate stripes 
 
 ' Andres Munoz' MSS., National Library, Madi-id. 
 16 
 
226 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 of applied gold chains and silver bugles. It was 
 lined with stamped cloth of silver, and the doublet, 
 trunks, and jacket were of white satin ornamented 
 in the same way. Another "pretty suit," we are 
 told, consisted of a French surcoat of black velvet 
 embroidered all over with gold and silver bugles, 
 the trunks and jacket being of crimson velvet, and 
 the doublet of crimson satin with the same em- 
 broidery. One of his dresses consisted entirely of 
 white silk velvet covered with a costly embroidery 
 of gold filigree ; and another had a surcoat of black 
 velvet with a border of gold bugles and heavy 
 twisted silver cords, the garment itself being almost 
 hidden under a closely embroidered running sprig 
 in gold, the leaves being filled in with silver filigree, 
 and in the spaces between the sprigs were slashes 
 of white satin. With this gorgeous coat went a suit 
 of white velvet and gold. Precious stones were 
 worn at the neck and wrists, and gold chains and 
 gems were looped around the hat. Heavy gold 
 chains rested on the shoulders, and arms and hous- 
 ings flashed with riches inestimable, the spoils of the 
 two Indies. 
 
 This will give some faint idea of the fashions of 
 a time when the rulers were fruitlessly trying to 
 repress extravagance in dress amongst their sub- 
 jects. Most of this finery was prepared in the city 
 of Valladolid, whence Philip left on his journey, 
 and it is not entirely surprising that in the following 
 year, 1555, the Cortes of Castile, sitting in that 
 place, boldly presented a petition asking that the 
 sumptuary laws should be done away with alto- 
 gether. They say that they are entirely a dead 
 letter, and are consequently a scandal, as well as 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 227 
 
 being useless and vexatious. Their petition was 
 not granted, for Philip and his father still thought 
 that all the growing wealth of the country should 
 come to them, instead of being used for decking the 
 undistinguished persons of private citizens. 
 
 There had been no finer flax than that of Galicia, 
 and no better linens than those made from it, but the 
 trade had been crippled by the sumptuary restrictions, 
 and the business had already fallen into the hands 
 of Flemings and Frenchmen, who got paid for their 
 stuffs with Spanish gold. The wool industry was 
 still more cruelly treated. Thanks to the merino 
 stock, the manufactory of fine cloths, serges, and 
 friezes had been very prosperous, and Spain could, 
 and did, export these textiles largely; but in 1552 
 the export of such goods was strictly prohibited, 
 and even wool in the fleece might not be sent out 
 of the country except on condition that for every 
 twelve sacks exported two pieces of foreign cloth 
 and one bale of foreign linen should be introduced 
 to prevent the export of gold. 
 
 The silk growers of Valencia and elsewhere had 
 been ruined, but the looms remained, and the 
 weavers attempted to obtain raw silk from Italy 
 and France. The introduction of raw silk was 
 thereupon forbidden, and most of the weavers went 
 the way of the growers, to idleness and ruin, or 
 across the seas to the Indies. The Cortes of 1555 
 saw the evil that was being done and, as usual, 
 made a presentment on the subject. They pointed 
 out the paralysis of Spanish industry and the large 
 sums of coin sent out of the country to pay for 
 French and Flemish linens, and ascribed the evil 
 to its secondary and not its primary reason. They 
 
228 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 say flax-growing is neglected and decayed, and 
 suggest that public lands, where suitable, should be 
 cultivated, and every landowner forced to plant a 
 certain proportion of flax on his estate. It was 
 useless and absurd, of course, as the sumptuary 
 laws limiting the making or wearing of lawns and 
 fine linens had killed the industry, and the coarse 
 linens were still spun and woven at home ; so 
 nothing came of it. 
 
 But the acme of absurdity and political perverse- 
 ness was reached in the Cortes of 1552, which 
 presented a petition begging that the export of 
 manufactured goods of all sorts to the new Spanish 
 empire in America should be strictly prohibited. 
 They say that the people there are getting their 
 money so easily and becoming so rapidly rich, that 
 they buy such great quantities of Spanish goods as 
 to raise the prices in the Peninsula, "whereby we 
 who work here cannot live." 
 
 The Cortes of 1560 reported that the nation was 
 fast being ruined by extravagance in dress, and 
 begged that a "pragmatic" should be issued for- 
 bidding every sort of ornament or tissue in which 
 metal entered, and strictly limiting the trimming of 
 garments to a plain piping round the edge. This 
 pragmatic was duly granted, but during the next 
 few years a considerable change was seen. Philip 
 had married the beautiful young French Princess 
 Elizabeth of Valois, who had been brought up with 
 Mary Stuart in that light-hearted court that Bran- 
 tome described so well. She had no patience with 
 the rigid puritanism and peddling interference of 
 stern authority with beauty's armoury, and French 
 fashions for ladies became general. A " pragmatic " 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 229 
 
 was published in 1563, ostensibly re-enforcing that 
 of 1537 (which, as has been shown, prohibited the 
 use of gold lace or embroidery in any form), but 
 really relaxing the regulations greatly, for the 
 benefit of the ladies. They might in future wear 
 sleeves of point lace in gold or silver, gold or silver 
 gauze, or silk shot with gold, and their jackets 
 might be made of similar stuffs, whilst they might 
 deck their coifs, wimples, stomachers, and under- 
 linen with as much gold as they pleased. Gold, 
 silver, or crystal buttons could now be worn, but 
 not on the skirt, and only on the head, bosom, 
 bodice, and sleeves ; whilst the hat might be 
 trimmed with gold gimp. Some concessions were 
 made to their spouses as well, for they were per- 
 mitted to clothe their nether limbs in silk hose, and 
 their trunks might be slashed and trimmed with 
 silk, and, generally speaking, the wearing of silk 
 was greatly extended. 
 
 Contemporary writers are full of the great ex- 
 travagance in dress which followed this peribd. 
 Moncada says that it was not uncommon for a 
 man's dress to cost 300 ducats a suit, whilst the 
 abuse of precious stones, both by men and women, 
 was carried to a ridiculous excess. Contemporary 
 portraits show that things were bad enough in this 
 respect in England at the time, but they were much 
 worse in Spain. 
 
 Only one year after the proclamation of the 
 pragmatic just mentioned, namely, in December, 
 1564, another elaborate decree was issued, on the 
 pretext that the previous one had left several points 
 in doubt, and the authorities had consequently been 
 lax in enforcing it. The decree of 1 563 had said that 
 
230 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 one year s grace was to be given for garments already- 
 made, and this concession had served as a loophole 
 for the evading the regulations altogether. The 
 authorities are therefore ordered strictly to enforce 
 the decree ; but the opportunity is taken of elucidating 
 doubtful points and still further modifying the severity 
 of the orders. It is now explained that the prohibition 
 of gold, silver, and silk stitching, gimp, or trimming 
 of any sort on the garments, referred only to applied 
 trimmings, and was not meant to include the 
 weaving of gold or silk threads or stripes in the 
 textures, or even the sewing of stripes of silk or 
 leather on to the garment, which stripes might be 
 bordered by a piping and held by two rows of 
 ornamental backstitch on each side, provided that 
 no other sort of adornment is used. Silk gimp 
 even may be applied on garments for indoor wear, 
 whilst silk frogs may be sewn on to overcoats and 
 travelling cloaks. Fringes were also allowed on 
 horse furniture and harness now, and swordbelts 
 and baldricks might be worn as rich as the taste 
 and extravagance of the owners cared to make 
 them. Some doubt is said to exist as to the 
 legality of stuffing the trunk-hose with baize to 
 extend them, and whether the slashes might be 
 lined with baize for the same purpose, and these 
 practices are strictly forbidden, " nor may piping 
 be inserted like farthingales, nor may threads, nor 
 wires, nor gummed silk be employed to extend the 
 trunks unduly, as we are informed has fraudulendy 
 been done." The previous pragmatic had imposed 
 the same penalties for infraction of the decree by 
 people in their own houses as in public, which 
 appears to have caused much vexation by the 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 231 
 
 invasion of domiciles by inferior officers, on pretext 
 of searching for forbidden garments, and the right 
 of search was now abolished. 
 
 An attempt to shame ladies into obeying the law 
 was made for the first time, of many, in these 
 pragmatics of 1563-4 by giving to women of bad 
 character the right to deck themselves in pro- 
 hibited finery in their own houses. But Madrid 
 was already commencing upon the downward 
 career which made it for more than a century 
 the most dissolute place in Europe, and women 
 of rank even were proud of their effrontery, so 
 that no attempts to induce them to obey the law 
 by appeals to their modesty ever succeeded. The 
 brazen-faced impudence of the Madrilenas, which so 
 shocked foreigners in the seventeenth century, still 
 remains as a cherished tradition of the fast-dis- 
 appearing race of 7najas and nianolas of Lavapies 
 and other low neighbourhoods of the capital, and 
 is encouraged in them as a national trait by their 
 social betters. 
 
 In 1568 Philip lost both his beautiful young 
 wife and his only son. Defeat and disappoint- 
 ment met him on all sides, and his gloom, 
 deepened by fanaticism, became heavier as the 
 years rolled on. Henceforward he and his Court 
 dressed in black, and the fashions of his people 
 followed him, to the extent of relinquishing almost 
 entirely the use of gold tissues and embroidery on 
 their garments. But poor as was the King's ex- 
 chequer, and in despite of Drake and the buccaneers, 
 gold still poured into Spain from the Indies, and 
 luxury, if checked in one direction, was certain to 
 break out in another. Coaches had been brought 
 
232 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 by Charles from Flanders when he came to Spain, 
 and by the end of the sixteenth century a perfect 
 rage for coaches had seized upon the people of the 
 capital — a form of extravagance which for the next 
 century at least was carried to a ridiculous excess, 
 and even now remains the principal foible of the 
 Madrilefios. The new taste was supposed to 
 threaten the art of horsemanship and the breed of 
 horses ; so for some years pragmatics were issued 
 ordering that no coach or wheeled litter or chariot 
 was to be drawn by less than four horses. To 
 encourage men to ride on horseback, doctors, 
 lawyers, and licentiates of universities were 
 authorised in 1584 to use long housings to their 
 steeds, and whilst mules were still to be housed 
 with plain harness, horses might be decked with 
 velvet saddles, gold and silver fringes, gimp and 
 nails, and made as smart as possible, in order to 
 encourage their use. 
 
 In 1593 Camillo Borghese was sent to Madrid 
 by the Pope, and has left behind him for our en- 
 lightenment a minute account of the fashions of his 
 day, ' by which we may see the effects that had been 
 produced by the "pragmatics" we have described. 
 " The dress of this country," he says, " is as follows. 
 The men wear long breeches, with a surcoat and 
 hat, or else a cloak and cap, as it would be a great 
 breach of decorum with them to wear a hat and 
 cloak together. This costume would certainly be 
 very pretty if the breeches were not cut so long as 
 to be disproportionate. Some men have taken to 
 wearing hose in the Seville style, which they call 
 
 ' " L'Espagne au 16"'" et 17"'° siecles," par Morel Fatio. 
 Paris, 1878. 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 233 
 
 galligaskins, and with these it is proper to wear a 
 cloak and hat instead of a cap. The ladies, like 
 the men, usually dress in black, and have a veil 
 round their faces like nuns, their heads being en- 
 veloped by their mantillas in such a way that their 
 faces are hardly visible. Indeed if it were not for 
 the pragmatic issued by the King on the subject 
 they would still cover their faces completely, as 
 they used to do a few years ago. When they do 
 not wear these veils over their faces, they have 
 on collars with enormous ruff pleats. They are 
 naturally dark-skinned, but the use of paints is so 
 common that they all look fair, and though 
 small in stature their high pattens make them look 
 tall, so that it may be truly said that all Spanish 
 ladies turn themselves from little and dusky to big 
 and bright. The main street of Madrid would be 
 fine if it were not unutterably filthy and almost 
 impassable on foot, and the better class of ladies 
 are always in carriages or litters, whilst the humbler 
 ones ride on donkey-back or pick their way through 
 the mire. They (the ladies) are naturally impudent, 
 presumptuous, and off-handed, and even in the 
 street go up and talk with men whom they do not 
 know, looking upon it as a kind of heresy to be 
 introduced properly. They admit all sorts of men 
 to their conversation and are not a bit scandalised 
 at the most improper proposals being made to 
 them. 
 
 "The gentlemen now rarely ride on horseback 
 but often go in carriages. They are preceded in 
 the streets by a group of pages and a couple of 
 servants they call lacqueys, the pragmatic not allow- 
 ing them more, although the grandees may be 
 
234 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 attended by four. The pragmatics only allow 
 saddle cloths to be worn from October to March, 
 but for the rest of the year velvet saddles may be 
 used. The one pastime of these people is to drive 
 up and clown the Calle Mayor (High Street) from 
 midday to midnight." 
 
 The good churchman was much shocked at 
 the effrontery of the people and their filthy habits, 
 but this branch of the subject is foreign to the 
 present article. Rough magnificence, side by side 
 with boorish rusticity, seems to have been the 
 characteristic of the Spain of Philip II. In the 
 same year that Borghese wrote, a very severe 
 pragmatic had been issued prohibiting the use of 
 silver ornaments on household furniture, which, it 
 says, had reached a pitch of extravagance which 
 could no longer be endured. Decrees were issued 
 in 1586, 1590, and 1594, which are interesting as 
 showing that the inevitable extravagance of dress 
 had now turned into the direction of the starched 
 ruff " No man," says the last-named pragmatic, 
 " may wear either at his neck or wrists on any sort 
 of ruff or frill, fixed or loose, any trimming, fringe 
 ravelling, or netting, starch, rice, gums, rods, wires, 
 gold or silver threads, or any ' alchemy ' or any- 
 thing else to extend or support them, but only a 
 plain hoUand or linen ruff with one or two little 
 pleats, on pain of forfeiture of shirt and ruff and a 
 fine of 50 ducats." Great resistance was offered to 
 this, and it was found, somehow or other, whether 
 by "alchemy" or what not, the "lettuce-frill" ruffs 
 still stood stiffly from the neck, and the Council of 
 State gravely considered the matter, with the result 
 that the decree of 1594 insists upon the law being 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 235 
 
 enforced, the ruffs to be as described, and not more 
 than three inches wide from the band to the hem, 
 the colour to be pure white. The penalties for 
 infraction were tremendous — for a first offence, 
 20,000 maravedis fine, for the second, 40,000, and 
 for the third, 80,000 and a year's banishment. 
 
 This was not by any means the only sumptuary 
 law promulgated in this year of 1594; a much 
 relaxed code of dress was issued with regard to 
 gold and fancy silk textures, of which the universal 
 use of unadorned black for so many years had 
 greatly decreased the manufacture in Spain. 
 Women were now allowed to wear fine cloth or 
 silk jackets, and cover the seams thereof with gold 
 or silver braid or scrolls, whilst their dresses and 
 mantles might be trimmed as profusely as they 
 pleased with the same ornaments. Doublets, 
 jackets, and waistcoats were now allowed to be of 
 quilted silk, satin, or taffety ; whilst the trunk hose 
 of the men might be slashed, and double-stitched 
 at the edge of the slashings. The said breeches, 
 moreover, might be stiffened by a single thickness 
 of baize and all the fine stuffs used for gentlemen's 
 garments could now, for the first time for many 
 years, be stamped with patterns. New and more 
 severe measures were adopted at the same time to 
 keep up the breed of horses, which animals were 
 thought to be almost in danger of extinction, as 
 horsemanship was less than ever indulged in, and 
 mules were preferred for drawing the coaches. 
 
 In the same year, 1594, a curious pragmatic 
 was proclaimed dealing with the extravagant abuse 
 of honorific titles. It commences in the King's 
 name by saying that, although it is unnecessary to 
 
236 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 make rules for himself or his family, he will begin 
 at the top for regularity's sake. The King must 
 be addressed in writing simply as " Sir " at the 
 head of the letter, which must end with " God 
 guard the Catholic person of your Majesty," at the 
 bottom. The heir to the crown was to be addressed 
 in the same way, but with " Highness" substituted 
 for " Majesty," the Princes of the blood being given 
 the style of Highness, but " his Highness " alone 
 standing for the heir to the crown. The rest of the 
 Princes were to be addressed on the outside of a 
 letter, " To his Highness the Infante Don So-and- 
 so." The titles "Excellency" and "Illustrious 
 Sir," which had become very general forms of 
 courtesy, were forbidden, and " Most Reverend 
 Sir " was only to be applied to Cardinals and the 
 Primate of Spain, the Archbishop of Toledo. The 
 highest grandees, bishops, and members of the 
 Council of State were in future to be addressed by 
 the inferior title of " Senoria," or Lordship, whilst, 
 out of courtesy and at the option of the person 
 speaking or writing, the same title could be given 
 alone to Marquises, Counts, Presidents of Councils, 
 and Grand Commanders. All letters of every kind 
 were ordered to begin at the top with a cross, and 
 then to state the business without any address or 
 name, ending with "God guard your lordship" — or 
 other title — and the date, place, and signature of 
 the writer. Absolutely no further compliment was 
 to be permitted, no matter what the relationship or 
 rank of the parties. As a further attempt to enforce 
 simplicity, the same pragmatic provides that in 
 future, on pain of a fine of 10,000 maravedis, no 
 coronet may surmount any coat of arms, except 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 237 
 
 such as are borne by Dukes, Marquises, and 
 Counts. 
 
 The proclamation of this pragmatic caused a 
 dreadful fluttering of the dovecotes of the Calle 
 Mayor. " Liars' parade " (the raised terrace before 
 the church of St. Philip), the favourite lounge of 
 the gilded youth, rose in revolt, the cadets of the 
 Cordobas, the Mendozas, the Maquedas, the Leivas, 
 the Manriques, and the rest of them, who had been 
 called " Excellencies " and " Lordships " from their 
 cradles, turned like the worm at last. Dress with- 
 out gold they might, but they, the sons of Dukes, 
 to be addressed with no more ceremony than dust- 
 men — perish the thought ! that they would not 
 stand. So they and the rest of the rufflers, led 
 captains, kept poets, bullies, and blacklegs, swept 
 down the Calle Mayor carrying the grave Alcalde 
 and all before them. Shops were shut, water was 
 boiled to throw out upon the base " Corchetes," 
 who dared to call such gallants plain " Mister," and 
 the gloomy recluse in the Alcazar at the end of the 
 street himself heard the row. When he was told 
 the cause of it, he only remarked, so the chronicles 
 say : " Bah ! what does it matter to me what they 
 are called } Let them be Lordships, or what they 
 will, so long as they serve me well." And the 
 pragmatic thus died on the day it was born, for no 
 attempt was ever made to enforce it, and " Senorias " 
 in the Calle Mayor remained as plentiful as black- 
 berries in an English hedgerow. 
 
 The isolation of Philip II. in his gloomy old age, 
 together with the relaxation of the enactments 
 already mentioned against the use of gold and 
 silver tissues, had allowed luxury in dress practi- 
 
238 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 cally to go unchecked during the last years of the 
 sixteenth century, and when the King died, in 1598, 
 he left Spain, and particularly the capital, in a per- 
 fect frenzy of prodigality. The most brazen dis- 
 soluteness accompanied the blindest religious 
 fanaticism ; the exchequer was bankrupt, the fields 
 untilled, the aforetime busy workshops of the south 
 silent and abandoned, the people starving or 
 flocking across the seas in search of the easily won 
 gold that was ruining them ; and when the coveted 
 gold came to the few who survived the pursuit, it 
 was lavished in insensate waste on the adornment 
 of their outer persons — for they always fed frugally 
 in that lean land — and most of the wealth left the 
 country as fast as it entered it, the idleness it 
 engendered being its net result to the country that 
 won it. 
 
 For the next hundred years the same pro- 
 cess went on. The monarch of Spain and the 
 Indies was reduced to beg his subjects in the name 
 of charity to provide food for himself and his family, 
 whilst the mines of Peru and Mexico were sending 
 millions. The splendour of the polished Court of 
 Philip IV. was only rivalled by that of his nephew, 
 the Grand Monarque, but it was soaked to the core 
 in sloth and squalor, whilst the humbler people 
 found the purchasing power of gold grow less and 
 less as the metal poured in and the workers, dazzled 
 by wealth so lightly won, ceased to produce com- 
 modities for consumption. Philip III. was a narrow 
 bigot without his father's industry or intellect, but 
 he was well-meaning and sorely beset, and was 
 unequal to the propping up of the great empire into 
 which his father's narrow and halting poHcy had 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 239 
 
 introduced the dry rot. The regulation of dress, 
 however, and the repression of profane extrava- 
 gance was just the task which appealed to his tastes 
 and sympathies, and he set about it as soon as he 
 mounted the throne. 
 
 His pragmatic of 1600 was a new departure in 
 many things and was the pattern of all similar 
 enactments for the next hundred years. It is very 
 minute, but a few of its provisions are worth pre- 
 serving, as they throw much light on the tastes 
 of the time. The King in his preamble sets forth 
 that he is informed that the sumptuary pragmatics 
 are quite disregarded, and seeing that the great 
 excess and extravagance in dress constitutes a 
 national scandal which must be moderated, he has 
 conferred with his wisest councillors and has de- 
 cided to issue a new pragmatic which shall super- 
 sede all previous ones. 
 
 To begin with, the following sweeping order 
 is given : No one of whatever rank, except the 
 King and his children, shall wear any sort 
 of brocade or cloth of gold or silver, or stuff 
 shot with gold or silver, or silk in which metal is 
 woven. No cord, gimp, ornamental stitching or 
 quilting, either of silk or metal, is to be permitted, 
 excepting on religious vestments and uniforms, and 
 no precious stones or pearls are to be worn on 
 housings or accoutrements in any shape. There is 
 an absolute prohibition of the employment of lute- 
 string, twist, ruchings, flat braid, cording, chainlets, 
 crewels, cross-stitching, through-stitching, tangle 
 trimming, puffs, and any sort of bead or steel 
 trimmings ; and the following dress is alone pre- 
 scribed : The cape or other over-garment may be 
 
240 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 of any sort of silk with stripes, on each edge of 
 which may be an ornamental stitching. Surcoats 
 and ropillas (a sort of half-tight over-jacket with 
 double sleeves, the outer ones hanging loose from 
 the shoulder) may be also of silk and trimmed in 
 the same way, and, if desired, a piping of another 
 sort of silk, but not the same, may be put between 
 the stripes. The inside of the capes may have 
 similar stripes of silk, satin, or taffety, but not 
 velvet. Shoulder capes may be made of velvet, 
 and the hoods of riding-cloaks or rain-capes may be 
 lined with the same. Silk gimp and frogs may be 
 sewn on to duffel cloaks, &c. The trunks may be 
 worn of any kind of silk, and each slashing may be 
 edged with a velvet or silk piping and an "eyelash " 
 border. If the slashing is a wide one this edging 
 may be worn on both sides of it, but if otherwise 
 only on one side. The slashings may be lined with 
 taffety. Silk gimp or braid of any sort may be 
 worn on the trunks excepting lutestrings or crewels. 
 Galligaskins may also be made of silk, but with no 
 trimming but a row of gimp on each side and at the 
 opening. Dressing-gowns for women and men 
 may be of any material or fashion, so long as gold 
 or silver is not used. Doublets, ropillas, or trunks 
 made of satin may be ornamented by silk stitching 
 of any colour, but on no account may the stuff be 
 pinked, ravelled, or fringed. The rules generally 
 apply to women as well as men, but the former are 
 allowed to wear jackets of light cloth of gold or 
 silver, which may be trimmed with a braid of the 
 same over the seams, and the whole jacket may be 
 covered with "whirligigs" or scrolls of gold or 
 silver, so long as there is no working in the stuff 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 241 
 
 itself. The frills and flounces of these garments 
 may also be ornamented in the same fashion. 
 Hats, belts, baldricks, &c., were all treated in the 
 same way ; gold or silver gimp, braid, and lace were 
 allowed to be sewn on, but not embroidered or 
 woven in, the texture. 
 
 A rather curious point in this decree of 1 600 is the 
 distinction in it of different classes of citizens. Thus 
 women of known evil life were allowed to wear what 
 they liked inside the houses, but were to conform 
 to the law in the streets ; pages might dress in silk 
 jackets, coats, trunks, and caps, but their capes were 
 to be of cloth or frieze ; no lackeys were to have 
 silken clothes or velvet scabbards, but they were 
 allowed to wear taffety caps. The punishments for 
 the breaking the orders seem severe but unequal. 
 Offending wearers were to lose the peccant garment 
 and pay a sum equal to its value for pious uses, but 
 tradesmen who made or sold the goods were to be 
 condemned to four years' exile and a fine of twenty 
 maravedis for a first offence, double the punishment 
 for a second, and the pillory and ten years' exile 
 from Spain for a third. All this sounds very severe, 
 but there were plenty of ways out of it. For 
 instance, garments already made might be worn for 
 four years by men and six by women, although they 
 were not in accordance with the law. This prag- 
 matic was proclaimed with the usual ceremony by 
 one of the Alcaldes de Casa y Corte with the sound 
 of drum and trumpet in the High Street of Madrid 
 on the 8th of June, 1600. The month must have 
 been a busy one for the dignified officials in question ; 
 for during the first fortnight of it decrees regulating 
 almost every conceivable subject were issued. The 
 
 17 
 
242 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 rigid and unpopular decree about courtesy titles was 
 superseded, and nearly everybody of position might 
 now be called Seiioria. No gold or silver in any 
 form was to be used in furniture or household 
 decoration, "as the King is shocked at the waste 
 of the estates of his subjects in such superfluities, 
 and considers it high time that the money were 
 employed in useful and necessary things." Velvet 
 or silk might be employed in upholstery, but no 
 gold or silver except a gold fringe on the edges. 
 The same rule applied to the lining of carriages and 
 litters, but no silk was to be used on the outside of 
 vehicles. 
 
 The regulation of jewellery was just as minute 
 and severe, and to judge from that which was 
 in future to be allowed, the excess in this 
 respect must have been very great, since after 
 pages of prohibitions with regard to the fashions 
 of jewellery, and the limitation of enamels and 
 precious stones, men were still allowed to wear as 
 many rings as they liked, chains and girdles of gold 
 pieces, sets of cameos mounted in gold, and strings 
 of pearls in their caps. The use of silver plate is 
 also much limited, but still side-saddles might be 
 made of silver, if plain, and the harness and horse- 
 cloths covered with the same metal. Here, again, 
 the same loophole for evasion was given ; for all 
 things already made were exempt if registered 
 within six months. 
 
 Attempts were made at the same time, as on 
 many subsequent occasions, to suppress the osten- 
 tatious promenading up and down the Calle 
 Mayor, which grew more scandalous as the years 
 went on, until it reached its apogee in the reign 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 243 
 
 of Philip IV., and for which the taste has never 
 yet quite died out. No women of loose life were 
 to promenade in coaches, nor might coaches be 
 hired for the purpose on pain of confiscation. No 
 person but a grandee might have more than two 
 torches carried before him under penalty of one 
 hundred ducats fine, and if any person hired a 
 lackey by the day, or for less than a month, he 
 was to be put in the pillory and exiled for four 
 years. The reasons for these regulations will be 
 well understood by those who have studied the 
 characteristic picaresque novels of the period, and 
 have smiled at the amusing subterfuges adopted by 
 impecunious scamps to pass themselves off as noble 
 hidalgos, the better to prey upon their fellow- 
 creatures. " 
 
 Amongst other things Philip III. in his youthful 
 zeal tried to deal with the vexed subject of ruffs. 
 He made no attempt to stand against starch any 
 longer — indeed, to judge from his portraits, no one 
 ever wore such stiff or extensive ruffs as he did 
 himself, but he sternly draws the line at trimming. 
 There must be no lace edges or ravellings ; they 
 must be pure white, with two little pleats only, and 
 not more than 4J inches wide, half as wide again 
 as had been allowed by his father. For the next 
 few years pragmatics positively rained in Madrid, 
 altering, restricting, relaxing this or the other detail 
 of the various decrees ; but all to no purpose 
 apparently, for in 1 6 1 1 Philip came out with 
 another long proclamation, saying that the extra- 
 vagant abuse of dress being worse than ever, he 
 has consulted discreet experts and has decided to 
 alter the rules. The use of gold and silver thread 
 
244 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 and foil, and of coloured silks, is more restricted 
 than ever, the only exceptions being for church 
 vestments and the dresses of officers actually 
 engaged in war. In other respects, however, the 
 trimmings allowed appear to be exceedingly elabo- 
 rate, and in the pragmatic of 1 6 1 1 about a dozen 
 different specimen trimmings of trunks alone are 
 described with all the finnicking minuteness of 
 a modern Court dressmaker's bill ; the sum total 
 of it all being that the employment of silk, velvet, 
 and other fine stuffs, stamped and plain, was now 
 almost unrestricted, whilst bullion was more severely 
 forbidden than before, except for ladies' jackets and 
 a few of their trimmings. 
 
 Another desperate attempt was made in the 
 same year to restrict the unprofitable idling in 
 the streets with carriages and an order was issued 
 that no new coaches were to be made without a 
 license from the President of the Council, and 
 no man was to ride in a coach without leave, 
 "as the King is informed that gentlemen are for- 
 getting how to ride." Women also are to refrain 
 from covering up their heads and faces, in order 
 that they may be seen and recognised, and they 
 may only be accompanied by their husbands, 
 fathers, sons, or grandfathers. The girls of a 
 family may ride in a coach without the mistress 
 of it, and the owners of coaches may be accom- 
 panied by a friend, but with this exception no 
 coach is to go out without its owner, and may not 
 be lent, exchanged, or sold without special license. 
 
 Ruffs had now apparently become general with all 
 classes, as a pragmatic was issued in 1 6 1 1 , saying 
 that, notwithstanding the former prohibition of the 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 245 
 
 use of long-lawn and muslin for ruffs, frills, and 
 collars, poor people would insist upon wearing 
 them, and they consequently might now be made of 
 those cheaper materials as well as of fine linen. 
 
 In March, 1621, Philip III. died, leaving luxury 
 and extravagance in his capital more rampant than 
 ever, and Philip IV., a mere boy, at once set to 
 work to grapple the evil with as much confidence 
 as if he were the first to attempt it. If economy 
 had ever been needed it was so now, for the public 
 treasury was empty, the people ruined with oppres- 
 sive taxation, ecclesiastical extortion and official 
 peculation, and the country was rapidly becoming 
 depopulated. A curious pamphlet is still in exist- 
 ence which contains a series of exhortations 
 addressed to the King in the year of his accession 
 by a noble member of the Cortes of Castile, setting 
 forth the various evils from which the country 
 was suffering, and proposing remedies for them.' 
 There is much plain speaking and boldness on 
 many matters therein, and, amongst others, on the 
 eternal question of sumptuary extravagance. The 
 representation on this subject has so direct a bearing 
 upon what has already been said as to the inopera- 
 tiveness of the pragmatics, that some of it is worth 
 transcribing. 
 
 "Your subjects spend and waste great sums in 
 their abuse of costly garb with so many varieties of 
 trimmings that the making costs more than the 
 garments themselves, and as soon as they are 
 made there is a change of fashion and the money 
 has to be spent over again. When they marry, the 
 
 ' " Discursos y apuntamientos de Don Mateo de Lison y 
 Biedma." Secretly printed in 1622. 
 
246 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 vast wealth they squander on dress alone ruins them, 
 and they are in debt for the rest of their lives ; and 
 although this expenditure may be voluntary, it has 
 become, so to speak, obligatory, and such is the 
 excess that the wife of an artisan nowadays needs 
 as much finery as a lady, even though she and her 
 husband have to get the money for it by dishonest 
 means, to the offence of God. Many weddings, 
 indeed, are prevented by the excessive cost and the 
 vassals are therefore unable to serve your Majesty 
 as they ought. They are unable to pay their debts, 
 the costs incurred in the recovery of which still 
 further reduce their fortunes. . . . As for collars 
 also, the disorder in their use is very great, for a 
 single one of linen, with its making and ravelling, 
 will cost over 200 reals, and six reals every 
 time it is goffered, which at the end of the year 
 doubles the cost of them and much money is thus 
 wasted. Besides this, many strong young men are 
 employed in goffering them, who might be better 
 employed in work necessary for the commonwealth 
 or in tilling the soil. The servants, too, have to be 
 paid higher wages in respect of the money they 
 have to spend in collars, which consumes most of 
 what they earn, and a great quantity of wheat is 
 wasted in starch, which is wanted for food. In 
 addition to this, the fine linens to make these collars 
 are brought from abroad, and money has to be sent 
 out of the country to pay for them. With respect 
 to coaches, great evil is caused and offence given to 
 God, seeing the disquiet they bring to the women 
 who own them, as they never stay at home but 
 leave their children and servants to run riot with 
 the bad example of the mistress being always 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 247 
 
 abroad. The praiseworthy and necessary art of 
 horsemanship too is dying out, and those who 
 ought to be mounted crowd, six or eight of them 
 together in a carriage, tallying to wenches rather 
 than learning how to ride. It must be evident how 
 different gentlemen must grow up who have all their 
 lives been rolling about in coaches instead of riding, 
 besides which the breed of horses is deteriorating 
 and money is being squandered by the keeping of 
 coaches often by people of moderate means who 
 can ill afford it but who are over-persuaded by their 
 wives, who say that because So-and-so, who is no 
 better off than they, have a coach they must have 
 one as well, and so the bad example spreads." 
 
 Don Mateo proposed some very drastic remedies, 
 and, whether in consequence of this or not, the King 
 and his favourite, the masterful Count- Duke of 
 Olivares, put their heads together during the first 
 few weeks of the reigrn, and came out with tremend- 
 ous series of pragmatics repeating the most stringent 
 provisions of the decree of 161 1 with regard to the 
 use of gold or silver, either in dress, furniture, 
 saddlery, or upholstery. No trimmings were to be 
 allowed of any sort, and no silk capes, cloaks, or 
 overalls were to be worn, cloth, frieze, and duffel 
 being substituted in those garments. Above all 
 Don Mateo's suggestion about the ruffs was adopted. 
 No person was permitted, on pain of the pillory and 
 exile, to pleat or goffer linen in any shape. Starch 
 was placed in the index expii,rgatoris again, and ruffs 
 were to be for ever suppressed in favour of the large, 
 square, flat Walloon collar, which fell over the 
 shoulders and breast like a bib. 
 
 The expenses of the palace were cut down to 
 
248 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 a minimum, and Philip himself, the most prodigal 
 and lavish of men in after years, went on short 
 commons. Amongst other efforts at economy 
 made by him one originated a fashion which 
 became deeply rooted in the Spanish charac- 
 ter, and which the Italian minister of another 
 Philip — the Frenchman — a hundred years after- 
 wards, said had a large share in making Spaniards 
 the leisurely and dignified people they were. The 
 wide, falling Walloon collar, with little or no stiffen- 
 ing, — as will be seen in portraits of the time — was 
 apt to wrinkle round the neck and very soon became 
 dirty ; so an ingenious tailor in the Calle Mayor 
 submitted to the young King and his brother Carlos 
 a new device, consisting of a high square collar of 
 cardboard covered with light-coloured silk inside 
 and with the same stuff as the doublet outside. By 
 means of heated rollers and shellac the cardboard 
 was permanently moulded into a graceful curve 
 which bent outwards at the height of the chin.' 
 Philip was pleased with the novelty and ordered 
 some of the new " golillas," as they were called, for 
 himself and his brother. The tailor, in high glee, 
 went to his shop to make them, but alas ! heated 
 rollers turned with handles and smoking pots of 
 shellac were suspicious things in those days, and the 
 spies of the Council promptly haled the tailor and 
 his uncanny instruments before the President, who 
 sagely decided that there was some devilish witch- 
 craft behind it all ; and if not — well, the accursed 
 
 ^ As first invented, the golilla opened in front, as shown 
 in the portrait of Quevedo, facing page 256, but later, 
 when the hair was worn long, it was made square in front 
 and was fastened behind, as shown in the portrait of Charles 
 the Bewitched. 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 249 
 
 things he was making were Hned with Hght blue 
 silk in violation of the pragmatic, so he must be 
 punished anyhow. A bonfire was made of the poor 
 man's stock before his door and he was put under 
 lock and key ; but when Olivares heard of it he was 
 furious. He and the Duke of Infantado sent for the 
 President and rated him soundly as a meddling old 
 fool for burning the King's new collars. The Presi- 
 dent declared his ignorance that they were for the 
 King, but pointed out how outrageous they were in 
 shape, and how they sinned against the pragmatic ; 
 but he was soon silenced by the Count- Duke, who 
 told him they were the best and most economical 
 things ever invented, as they did away with the 
 need for constant washing of collars, and would last 
 ten years without further expense or trouble. 
 
 The golilla "caught on" with high and low. 
 It is true that heads had to be carried stiffly and 
 turned slowly, but Spanish heads were intended 
 so to be used and no complaint was made. No 
 more pragmatics against ruffs, moreover, were 
 ever needed again, and the costly, cumbrous 
 fashion went out for good. This was in 1623, 
 the same year as Charles Stuart went on his 
 hairbrained trip to Madrid, and during his stay 
 all the pragmatics were suspended, in order that 
 he might see how splendid the Madrilefios could 
 be if left to themselves. They did their best to 
 sustain their reputation and the poverty-stricken 
 country was again plunged into the maddest vortex 
 of prodigality that even dissolute Madrid had ever 
 seen, and flaunting Buckingham himself was outshone 
 in brilliancy and lavishness by the nobles of Philip's 
 Court. The strict law of Charles V. limiting the 
 
2SO A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 wearing of jewellery and precious stones had been 
 re-imposed, but the list of gems displayed, given, and 
 received as presents during Charles' visit, and the 
 sumptuous dresses worn, has been left on record, 
 down to the smallest detail, by one of the King's 
 attendants ; ' and shows an inconceivable lavishness 
 which naturally would, and did, make it difficult to 
 revert in Madrid to the severe orders of the prag- 
 matics again. 
 
 The tendency of the time, however, was against 
 barbaric spendour, and gradually the taste for 
 gold and silver tissues and embroideries in civil 
 costume was modifying itself, but new extrava- 
 gancies sprang up as old ones languished. Philip's 
 sister Anna had married Louis XIII. of France in 
 1615 with great pomp, and all the Spanish Court 
 had assembled on the historic ford of the Bidasoa 
 which marked the French frontier. They brought 
 back some new fashions with them, caught from the 
 Parisians. Since Charles V., for good reasons, was 
 obliged to have his curls cropped at Barcelona, 
 Spaniards of all classes had worn the hair short, and 
 parted as it is in England at present. The French 
 wore it longer and the Spaniards now followed their 
 lead. But not all at once. They first adopted the 
 mode of having two ugly locks like long, limp 
 Newgate-knockers, called " guedejas," hanging 
 before the ears, the back of the head being cropped 
 and the top surmounted by a twist or curl called a 
 "copete." In the early portraits of Philip IV. this 
 style of headdress may be seen. 
 
 ' Manuscript of Don Diego de Soto y Aguilar in the Royal 
 Academy of History in Madrid, transcript in the autlior's 
 possession. 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 251 
 
 Another fashion brought from France was much 
 more objectionable, but took a stronger hold in 
 Spain than elsewhere. Round hoop-skirts or far- 
 thingales had been common in most parts of 
 Europe for over fifty years before, but the new re- 
 finement, called a "guarda-infante," was a very large 
 farthingale flattened back and front so as to stick 
 out inordinately at the sides, particularly at the hips. 
 The jaunty Madrilefias added to it a new feature, 
 which made it worse than ever, namely, a metal sec- 
 tion or facing to the bottom hoop which resounded 
 against a similar plate on the heels of their clogs, or 
 clanked upon the ground, so that a musical clickety- 
 click accompanied them wherever they went ; even 
 as it did that aged equestrienne of Banbury famed 
 in English nursery lore. As the bold wenches 
 minced along they prided themselves upon the 
 eccentric or rhythmical effects they produced. They 
 would be neither shamed, coerced, nor persuaded to 
 abandon the foolish caprice until they tired of it 
 themselves, but Don Philip did his best by prag- 
 matics to suppress it. In 1639 the famous fulmi- 
 nation against female extravagance in dress was 
 issued, part of which ran as follows : 
 
 "His Majesty orders that no woman, whatever 
 her quality, shall wear a guarda-infante ; which is a 
 costly, superfluous, painful, ugly, disproportionate, 
 lascivious, indecent article of dress, giving rise to 
 sin on the part of the wearers and on that of men 
 for their sakes. The only exception to this rule 
 shall be public prostitutes. 
 
 "No skirts shall consist of more than eight yards 
 of silk or a proportionate quantity of other stuff, nor 
 shall they measure more than four yards round ; the 
 
252 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 same rule shall apply to polonaises, over-skirts, hen- 
 coop skirts and petticoats. 
 
 "No woman wearing shoes shall have a bottom 
 hoop, farthingale, or anything else in the skirt for 
 the purpose of making a noise, and bottom hoops or 
 farthingales shall not be worn except with pattens 
 at least five inches high. 
 
 " No woman shall wear low-cut bodices except 
 women of known evil life. Any person guilty of 
 infraction of this pragmatic shall lose the offending 
 article of dress and pay a fine of 20,000 maravedis 
 for the first offence, and for the second double that 
 amount, with exile from the Court." 
 
 The unfortunate dressmakers who made the 
 garments were to be much more severely punished 
 than the fair wearers, and four years' penal servitude 
 was their sentence for a second offence. 
 
 The offended Madrileiias did not put up tamely 
 with such tyranny, and, led by three frisky damsels, 
 the daughters of a famous judge, they came out the 
 day after the pragmatic was proclaimed, swaggering 
 and jingling up and down the Prado in the widest 
 guarda-infantes, the most outrageous farthingales, 
 and the noisiest of hoops ; and dared the scandalised 
 alguaciles to touch them, since they could hardly 
 arrest all the rank and beauty of the Court ; and the 
 fair ones practically had their own way, for Philip 
 only issued a grave and sorrowful remonstrance 
 against the indelicacy and expense of their con- 
 stantly changing caprices, and begging them to 
 conform to their duty. But they pleased them- 
 selves as usual, although it is said that their three 
 fair ringleaders did no go quite scot-free, as their 
 father the judge, scandalised that his own daughters 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 253 
 
 should be the first to break the law, condemned 
 them to dress in nun's garb of the coarsest frieze. 
 Nothing daunted, the recalcitrant " Gilimonas," ' as 
 they were called, managed, with nods and winks 
 and frisking skirts, to look more deliciously provo- 
 cative than ever in their penitential garb, and their 
 pastors and masters were glad enough to get them 
 back again into their clicking farthingales to avoid 
 the scandal. 
 
 Nor were the gallants of the other sex more sub- 
 missive about their lovelocks. An order was pro- 
 claimed at the same time, saying, "His Majesty 
 orders that no man shall wear a topknot, or love- 
 lock before the ears, or any curls upon his head 
 — and barbers who dress the hair in this fashion 
 shall be fined 200 maravedis and be imprisoned for 
 10 days." Men who wore the offending curls were 
 to be excluded from Court and all public offices. 
 " Liars' Parade" was as much upset about this as 
 about titles, and made a desperate attempt to resist. 
 It was in the very heyday of poetry in Spain — 
 Calderon, Lope de Vega, Quevedo, and a host ot 
 others were for ever firing off poetical squibs and 
 satires at the foibles of the age, the " Liars' Parade " 
 being the central exchange for the "good things" 
 of poets, big and little, from the monarch down- 
 wards. A cloud of barbed poetical arrows from 
 scores of poetical bows were consequently shot at the 
 royal decree against topknots and guedejas ; and 
 ridicule and satire were poured out unsparingly 
 upon those who were responsible for it. But to be 
 shut out from the presence of king and ministers, 
 to have the public service closed against them, was 
 ^ Their father's name was Gil Imon de la Mota. 
 
254 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 too hard to be borne by the noble swaggerers and 
 kept poets of the Calle Mayor, so they gave way 
 and took to the long, lank, straight hair all round, 
 which Philip himself wore for the rest of his life, 
 though others, particularly away from the Court, 
 still clung to the guedejas and short backhair. 
 
 When Philip IV. had been gathered to his 
 fathers in the jasper vault of the Escorial, and his 
 sickly son had married a French princess, Spain 
 began to conform its fashions to those which ruled 
 in the Court of the Roi-soleil, but somehow the 
 three-cornered plumed hat, so general in France 
 and England, never became popular in Spain. The 
 large flap-brimmed hat with feathers still lingered 
 when the Queen Regent Mariana, during her 
 rivalry with her bold step-son, Don Juan Jos^ of 
 Austria, raised a regiment of Swiss and German 
 mercenaries. These soldiers wore a very broad- 
 brimmed hat, flat all round, and slightly turned up 
 at the edge, much like the wideawakes of to-day. 
 This hat caught the fancy of the Spaniards, who 
 dubbed it "Chambergo," a Spanish variant of 
 " Schomberg," after whom the regiment was 
 called, and this hat has to this day never lost its 
 hold upon the Spanish populace, although they 
 had to raise a revolution to keep it, as will be 
 related presently. 
 
 A very absurd craze at the end of the seventeenth 
 century, which official remonstrance was powerless 
 to put down, was the universal wearing of great 
 horn-rimmed spectacles, such as may be seen in 
 the portrait of Quevedo, facing page 256 ; men and 
 women of fashion insisted upon wearing these ugly 
 appendages, whether they needed them or not, and 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 255 
 
 literary fashion though it was in a Htterary age, much 
 sport was given to the poetasters in attacking it. 
 
 By the time Charles the Bewitched had grown up, 
 French fashion ruled in Madrid, with the sole excep- 
 tions of the golilla (somewhat changed in shape to 
 suit the long backhair) and the round-brimmed hat, 
 which resisted all attempts to displace them ; but 
 the old vice of extravagance still continued in spite 
 of changed fashions, and in 1674 a pragmatic was 
 issued deploring again the costly excess in dress, 
 the abuse of adornment of equipages, and the idle 
 luxury of the time. The severe decrees of Philip 
 IV. are re-enacted, and a code of permissible dress 
 laid down, in which velvets, silks, satins, taffeties, 
 of all colours, stamped and plain, are allowed, but 
 foreign textures are to be equal in weight and fine- 
 ness to Spanish goods. 
 
 The pragmatics now, however, had altered their 
 tone. They were exhortatory rather than commina- 
 tory during the last years of the House of Austria. 
 A change came with the advent of the first Bourbon 
 Philip V. The Spaniards were sensitive, and resented 
 the inferiority implied by the adoption by the Court 
 and society of the French fashions, high heels, wide- 
 skirted coats, full-bottomed wigs, and the rest ; so 
 the mass of the people clung to their cropped back- 
 hair, their broad-brimmed hats, long cloaks, and 
 above all their stately stiffened "golillas." Philip 
 was too wise to run atilt against the golilla at first, 
 and indeed adopted it himself, as may be seen in his 
 portrait as a youth in the Louvre. But he wrote 
 an anonymous pamphlet against it, and lost no 
 opportunity of pointing out its unfitness for working 
 people and soldiers. Alberoni, with his caustic 
 
256 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 Italian wit, was for ever sneering at it, so that when 
 Philip abandoned it and took to a collar and white lace 
 cravat public opinion was prepared for the change and 
 the golilla fell, after a reign of a hundred years. 
 
 When Philip was firm upon his throne after his 
 long struggle, he issued a pragmatic, in 1723, 
 once more trying to stem the tide of extravagance, 
 precisely as if it had never been tried and failed 
 before. No gold or silver either in texture or 
 trimming was to be worn. No gold, glass, pearl, 
 or steel buttons were to be allowed. No precious 
 stones, real or false, might be used in trimming or 
 fastenings, there were to be no foreign ornaments, 
 and sham gems and jewellery were strictly prohibited. 
 No silk might be worn but such as was of Spanish 
 manufacture. Servants were to be clothed in plain 
 cloth and woollen stockings, and no person but a 
 grandee was allowed to keep more than two lac- 
 keys ; and no silk was to be used on harness or 
 the outside of coaches. No person might drive 
 more than four horses in the capital, and no lawyer, 
 notary, or tradesman was permitted to keep a coach. 
 Doctors and priests alone might ride a pacing mule, 
 all other men were bidden to mount horses only. 
 Artisans and workmen were to dress exclusively in 
 baizej serge, or frieze ; their cuffs alone might be of 
 silk. The pains and penalties in this great prag- 
 matic were many and severe, but the decree aimed 
 at doing too much. So many fine and delicate 
 doubtful points arose with regard to its provisions, 
 that for yeai-s after fresh proclamations were con- 
 stantly being made to elucidate this pragmatic of 
 1723; and through the many loopholes offenders 
 escaped, and the act became a dead letter. 
 
VELASQUEZ, Pi MXT. 
 
 FRANCISCO DE QUEVEDO VILLEGAS 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 257 
 
 Indeed, sumptuary laws were already growing 
 out of date, even in Spain ; the courtiers copied 
 the latest fashions from Paris, and the common 
 people, more out of patriotism and mute resentment 
 than anything else, made their cloaks longer and 
 longer and their hats wider and wider. The long 
 ends of the cloaks had to be put out of the way 
 somehow, so they were thrown across the face to 
 the opposite shoulder, and, what with the broad- 
 brim over the brow and the cloak over the mouth, 
 none of the face was seen but the eyes. 
 
 Spain during the greater part of the eighteenth 
 century had the ill-fortune to be governed by foreign 
 ministers, mostly Italians, and one after the other 
 they tried to cut stubborn Spain to the same pattern 
 as the rest of the world. The more they tried the 
 more sulky and determined became the people, and 
 it resolved itself into a national article of faith to 
 resist all change ; things Spanish being better than 
 things elsewhere. When Philip's younger son, 
 Charles III., came from Naples to rule them he 
 brought with him his Neapolitan ministers. Gri- 
 maldi said that the Spaniards all looked like con- 
 spirators slinking about in the darkness with their 
 covered faces. An attempt was made to light the 
 streets with oil-lamps, but the people resented such 
 a foolish foreign fad, and smashed the lamps as fast 
 as they were put up. The offenders could not be 
 identified with their covered faces and slouch hats, 
 so the King was persuaded by the Marquis of Squil- 
 laci (Esquilache, as the Spaniards called him) to 
 issue a new pragmatic. Its tone was more one of 
 sorrow than of anger. The King was shocked for 
 foreigners to see such a boorish fashion in his 
 
258 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 capital, and had determined that in future no long 
 cloaks or round-brimmed hats were to be worn. 
 Either a short cape or a skirted coat was allowed, 
 and men might wear either their own hair or a wig, 
 but they must cover it with a three-cornered hat 
 and not a Chambergo, and the face must not be 
 hidden in any way. 
 
 This order was proclaimed on the 4th of March, 
 1766, and police were posted in the principal 
 places with shears to curtail cloaks and lop hat- 
 brims. It happened that a man pursued by 
 alguaciles for wearing the forbidden garments took 
 refuge in the precincts of the church of the Trinity, 
 where he was followed by the officers and beaten, 
 in defiance of sanctuary. An infuriated crowd 
 collected and overpowered the authorities, who 
 were dismayed at the feeling evinced, and withdrew 
 their men. For the next few days men all over 
 Madrid ostentatiously flaunted their cloaks and 
 broad-brims before the barracks and police posts, 
 and there is no doubt that the feeling was taken 
 advantage by politicians for their own ends to goad 
 the people to fury against the Italian ministers. 
 Matters came to a head on the 23rd of March, 
 when a soldier attempted to seize a man with his 
 face covered. A crowd, ready for mischief, collected 
 immediately, and the authorities were overpowered. 
 The mob swept up the Calle de Leon across the 
 Calle de Alcald to Squillaci's house (the famous 
 " house with the seven chimneys " ) which they 
 wrecked, although the minister had fled. With 
 broad-brimmed hats on the top of poles they scoured 
 the streets, making all men they met uncock their 
 hats. Overpowering all resistance, they assembled 
 
A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 259 
 
 before the palace. The guards used force in vain, 
 and that night the capital was in the hands of the 
 mob. The gaols were opened, houses wrecked, 
 foreigners assailed and killed, the King's Walloon 
 Guard especially being singled out for vengeance. 
 Squillaci and Grimaldi had fled, and the Spanish 
 ministers, either out of timidity or sympathy, prac- 
 tically sided with the rioters. The rising spread 
 rapidly to the provinces, old grievances were raked 
 up again, and a dangerous revolution was in pro- 
 gress, when the King surrendered unconditionally. 
 People were to wear what they pleased, food and 
 oil were to be reduced in price, and the Italian 
 ministers were smuggled away, never to return. 
 
 That practically ended the fight for sumptuary 
 control. Finery was triumphant in the long 
 struggle, and the strong arm of authority was 
 obliged to confess itself powerless to dictate on the 
 question of personal adornment. Half-hearted 
 attempts were made after this to interfere in sump- 
 tuary matters by Spanish sovereigns, but the effects 
 of their decrees were hardly felt outside their own 
 households. In 1780, for instance, a pragmatic as 
 severe in form as ever was issued, minutely regu- 
 lating the wearing of mourning and prohibiting 
 mourning coaches, but little notice was taken of it 
 after the first few weeks ; and later still a curious 
 mild little decree was issued by Charles IV. limit- 
 ing the number of dishes which, according to 
 custom, many officials were entitled to receive daily 
 from the royal kitchens. It is a long drop from 
 Alfonso the Wise to the silly dodderer who handed 
 over his kingdom to Napoleon because his son had 
 offended him ; but the same feeling, almost the 
 
26o 
 
 A FIGHT AGAINST FINERY. 
 
 same phraseology, pervades the first pragmatic we 
 have quoted and the last. Both deplore the lavish- 
 ness and luxury of the people, and exhort them to 
 correct the excess and superfluity which charac- 
 terises their tables ; and in both of them the King 
 promises that he himself will rigidly conform to his 
 own decree and reform the extravagance of his 
 private repasts. 
 
 Custom, taste, and perhaps necessity, have done 
 what five hundred years of "pragmatics" failed to 
 do. The Spaniards are the most sober and frugal- 
 feeding nation in Europe, and certainly do not 
 exceed in the matter of gaudy or ostentatious 
 raiment. The only traits left to them perhaps by 
 the extravagant old fashions we have described, 
 are their consuming love for driving about the 
 streets in a fine carriage, however much they may 
 stint in all else ; and the grave stiff-necked dignity 
 which a century of the golilla left behind it. 
 
A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 
 
A PALACE IN THE STRAND J 
 
 Probably not one person out of a thousand of those 
 who hurry along the busiest part of the Strand 
 notices even the existence of a closed iron gate by 
 the side of a public-house opposite the Vaudeville 
 Theatre. If you peer through the grating you will 
 only see a dark, narrow court, now blocked up by the 
 building operations connected with the Hotel Cecil, 
 and you will have no difficulty in coming to the 
 conclusion that this avenue, which has been gradu- 
 ally going down in the world for the last two 
 centuries, is destined before very long to be blotted 
 out altogether. For this was an important thorough- 
 fare once, called Ivy Lane, one of the three public 
 roadways by which access was obtained from the 
 Strand to the river and the boats, the other two 
 being Milford Lane and Strand Lane, the entrance 
 to which latter still exists, a mere passage between 
 two shops opposite Catherine Street. Down the 
 centre of Ivy Lane ran a brook, over which the 
 roadway of the Strand was carried by a bridge 
 called Ivy Bridge. This lane, which separates the 
 liberty of the Duchy of Lancaster from the city of 
 
 ' The Fortnightly Review, September, 1893. 
 263 
 
264 A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 
 
 Westminster, ran sloping down to the river between 
 the garden walls of two of the great Strand palaces 
 which, erected, as they all were at first, by bishops, 
 were subsequently grabbed by kings and courtiers 
 for their own use. To the east stood, on the Savoy 
 demesne, the house of the Bishop of Carlisle, which 
 was granted to the Elizabethan Earl of Bedford, 
 and subsequently came into the possession, by 
 exchange, of Robert Cecil, afterwards the first Earl 
 of Salisbury, second son of the great Burleigh, 
 whose own house stood nearly opposite, on the site 
 of Exeter Hall ; and on the west, covering all the 
 space now occupied by the Adelphi as far as Coutts' 
 bank, there rose the ancient mansion which for 
 centuries was the town palace of the prince-bishops 
 of Durham, known to history as Durham Place. 
 
 In the lawless times, when these mansions were 
 first founded, it would have been dangerous for any 
 but ecclesiastics to have resided outside of the 
 protection afforded by the City boundaries, and so 
 it came about that all the way from the Temple to 
 Whitehall, along the banks of the silent highway, 
 which then was the principal thoroughfare of Lon- 
 don, there ran a string of bishops' palaces and 
 religious foundations. Their outhouses and stable 
 gates opened on to the rough country road we still call 
 the Strand — a road which even in the time of Mary, 
 we are told, was filthy and unseemly, and remained 
 so, indeed, until the great nobles made these palaces 
 their homes. Many books have been written about 
 the Aldelphi and its site, and Durham Place, which 
 was by far the most important of the Strand palaces 
 until the Protector built Somerset House, has come 
 in for its own full share of notice, but the writers 
 
A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 265 
 
 upon the subject have copied each other with 
 slavish fidelity, errors and all. The same set of 
 facts and assumptions has invariably done duty in 
 all descriptions of Durham Place. I wish in the 
 present article to break new ground, and relate 
 some hitherto unnoticed episodes in its history. 
 
 Stow has not much to tell of Durham Place, except 
 of the great festival of 1 540, when the future rivals, 
 Dudley and Seymour, with Poynings, Carew, King- 
 ston, and Richard Cromwell, challenged all Europe 
 to a tourney, and held open house with regal lavish- 
 ness for a week at Durham Place, lent to them for 
 the purpose by the King, who rewarded each of 
 them, moreover, with an income for ever of a 
 hundred marks a year and a house out of the 
 plunder of the Hospital of St. John of Jerusalem. 
 The State Papers now and again give us a ray of 
 side-light on the history of Durham Place. We 
 know how Somerset granted it to Elizabeth for her 
 life after he had beheaded his brother, who there 
 had coined the doubloons with which he thought to 
 bribe his way to the throne. We know on Somer- 
 set's fall how jealous Northumberland gave to the 
 Princess the great unfinished palace of the dead 
 Protector, and took for his own town house Durham 
 Place, in which, although it was nominally hers, she 
 had never lived. We know something, but not 
 much, of the fastuous splendour of Dudley's life 
 during the three years he lived here, of Jane Grey's 
 ill-starred wedding in the house, of the plotting of 
 her father-in-law, verily a lath painted like a sword, 
 and the weaker time-servers around him, to per- 
 petuate their rule and confirm them in their ill- 
 gotten gains, of the pitiably crumbling down of the 
 
266 A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 
 
 house of cards when the supreme moment came ; 
 and how Northumberland went forth from the 
 Tower to the scaffold, never to see Durham Place 
 again, hoping in his craven soul, till the axe fell, 
 that his abject recantation would purchase his 
 worthless life. 
 
 The Egerton Papers (Camden Society) tell 
 us somewhat in detail of the arbitrary expulsion 
 of Raleigh from Durham Place, where, by the 
 grace of his mistress, he had lived happily and 
 splendidly for nearly twenty years. These facts 
 and some others in the subsequent history of the 
 house are recited by every writer who has touched 
 upon the subject, and I have no desire to repeat at 
 length incidents which are already well known. 
 One error into which most writers have fallen has 
 been to jump at the conclusion that whenever 
 recorded history is silent on the subject of Durham 
 Place, the house reverted to the possession of the 
 See of Durham. Such does not appear to me to 
 have been the case. It is usually asserted that 
 Henry VIII. first took possession of the house by 
 forcing the Bishop, Cuthbert Tunstal, to exchange 
 his palace for some other property. This is founded 
 on Stow's statement that Cold Harbour, in Thames 
 Street, was granted to the Bishop because of "his 
 house near Charing Cross being taken into the 
 King's hands, Cuthbert Tunstal was lodged in this 
 Cold Harbour." It is certain, however, that Kathe- 
 rine of Aragon lived here during her widowhood, 
 before Henry VIII. came to the throne, as many of 
 her letters to her father in Spain are in existence 
 dated from this house, ranging over several years 
 prior to her marriage with Henry in 1509. On the 
 
A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 267 
 
 very year of Mary's death Cuthbert Tunstal wrote 
 a letter ^ to Cardinal Pole thanking him for obtain- 
 ing for him the reversion of the house ; ' and it is 
 usually assumed from this that he actually entered 
 into possession of it. But he did not ; and it is the 
 story of Durham Place during this time, namely, 
 the last years of Mary and the first few years of 
 Elizabeth, that I wish to tell. 
 
 The historians of the house generally make short 
 work of the matter by saying, " When Elizabeth 
 came to the throne Tunstal was again driven from 
 this house, and about 1583 Elizabeth granted it to 
 its greatest tenant, the glorious Raleigh." 2 In all 
 probability Tunstal only lived in the house a short 
 time if at all. He was appointed to the See in 1530, 
 and in 1540, as we know by Stow's description of 
 the already-mentioned festival, Durham Place was 
 a royal house, and so it remained until 1603, when 
 Lord Salisbury used Toby Matthew, Bishop of 
 Durham, as his catspaw to claim it, in order that he 
 might filch the best part of it — the Strand frontage 
 — for himself, which he did to his own great profit. 
 In any case, it is certain that Tunstal never got the 
 house back again from Mary or Cardinal Pole, 
 whatever promises may have been made to him. 
 
 Of the few Spanish nobles of high rank who 
 stayed with Philip II. during the whole of his 
 residence in England after his marriage with Queen 
 Mary, one was Gomez Suarez de Figueroa, Count 
 de Feria, a prime favourite and close friend of 
 Philip. This nobleman had fallen deeply in love 
 with Miss Jane Dormer, one of Mary's maids of 
 
 ' Calender of State Papers, 1547-1580, p. 105. 
 
 ^ " The Adelphi and its Site," by H. B. Wheatley, F.S.A. 
 
268 A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 
 
 honour, and married her, and although the secret of 
 the union had been well kept, circumstances made it 
 necessary to openly avow it before the King and 
 his suite left London for Flanders in September, 
 1555. Feria was again in London with the King in 
 March, 1557, for a few months, but in January, 
 1558, he came back in another capacity. The war 
 was going badly for Philip and England. The 
 French had taken Calais, and Guines was on the 
 point of falling ; if the contest was to be carried 
 on at all more money and more men must be 
 squeezed out of unwilling England, or otherwise 
 peace must be made, with England for a scapegoat. 
 Philip could not come himself, so he sent his 
 haughty, overbearing favourite Feria as his ambas- 
 sador to bully and bribe the English courtiers and 
 coerce the sorely beset Queen. He came with a 
 large train of servants and with great magnificence ; 
 his English wife, a country knight's daughter only 
 as she was, as proud as himself; and he was granted 
 the use of Durham Place, furnished from the Queen's 
 own house, as other great ambassadors had been 
 granted it before him. Egmont had been lodged 
 there with his splendid train in January, 1554, when 
 he had come to offer Philip's hand to Mary. 
 Chatillon, the French ambassador, too, had been 
 given the use of the house during his short embassy 
 in 1550, so that there was nothing extraordinary in 
 the granting of the house to Feria. Only that 
 former ambassadors had stayed for a few weeks, 
 whereas Feria and his successor remained in posses- 
 sion for five years and a half, and made of Durham 
 Place a trysting-place for treason during the most of 
 that time. 
 
A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 269 
 
 Whilst Elizabeth was striving against terrible 
 odds with all her subtle statecraft to lay the 
 foundation of a united nation on the broken ele- 
 ments of civil and religious discord, her task was 
 hourly rendered more difficult by the plots hatched 
 in her own house at Durham Place. All the dis- 
 affected and discontented found a welcome there ; 
 emissaries from Shan O'Neil flitted backwards and 
 forwards at night by the river gate. Stukeley 
 whispered here his willingness to desert with the 
 Queen's ships to the King of Spain, and here Haw- 
 kins himself humbly begged to be bought. Lady 
 Sidney, Robert Dudley's sister, Dudley himself, 
 Arundel, Lumley, Montague, and Winchester found 
 in the secret rooms at Durham Place open but dis- 
 creet ears to listen to their plans for preventing the 
 establishment of Protestantism in England, and for 
 bringing the country again under the sway of the 
 Pope. Madcap Arthur Pole appealed first to Dur- 
 ham Place when he wanted aid for his silly plot in 
 favour of Mary Stuart, and long-headed Lethington 
 came at dead of night by the silent river on a 
 similar but far more serious errand. The publica- 
 tion of the correspondence of the Spanish ambassa- 
 dors in England during the reign of Elizabeth 
 (Rolls Series) adds many interesting pages to the 
 history of Durham Place, and renders the memories 
 of the house more important than ever to the 
 students of the Reformation period in England. 
 
 Feria arrived in London and took up his resi- 
 dence at Durham Place on the 26th of January, 
 1558, having, as he says, lingered on the way in 
 order not to bring the unwelcome news of the 
 surrender of Guines by the English, which news 
 
270 A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 
 
 had crossed the Channel with him. In addition to 
 Durham Place, where he and his household were 
 lodged, he had the same privileges as to an apart- 
 ment in the Queen's palace as those which apper- 
 tained to an English Privy Councillor — privileges 
 which he tried hard to have confirmed to him by 
 the new Queen when Mary died, in order, as he 
 says, that he might keep his foot in the place and 
 spy out what was going on. But Elizabeth and 
 Cecil knew full well what his object was, and were 
 quite shocked at the idea of the representative of a 
 possible suitor for her hand sleeping under the same 
 roof as the maiden Queen, so Feria had to depend 
 upon his paid agents in the palace, and even in the 
 Council itself, to bring him news to Durham Place 
 of what was going on. 
 
 With the evidence now before us we can 
 form an approximate idea of the appearance of 
 Durham Place at the time. The Strand was 
 a rough, unpaved road, with a fringe of shops and 
 taverns on the northern side, whilst on the 
 south side were the back walls and outer courts 
 of the riverine mansions. The principal land gate- 
 way of Durham Place stood exactly opposite the 
 spot now occupied by the Adelphi Theatre. The 
 English custodian or porter, who was in the pay of 
 the Queen, had his dwelling just inside the gate, 
 where he could spy those who went in and out on 
 the land side. On each side of the gate in the 
 outer courtyard were stables and outhouses, and in 
 and around the gateway in the street were benches 
 where idlers and hangers-on sat and lounged through 
 the day gossiping, in various tongues, and boasting 
 of the prowess of their respective countrymen. On 
 
A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 271 
 
 the other side of the street, nearly opposite, was a 
 tavern called the "Chequers,"' which drove a roaring 
 trade with the men-at-arms, Court-danglers, and 
 serving-men who were constantly passing to and from 
 Whitehall and St. James'. Opposite the gateway, 
 across the large outer courtyard, was the door of the 
 great hall, generally standing open for the neigh- 
 bours to pass through 2 it to the inner or smaller 
 courtyard, in which stood a water conduit fed by 
 a "spring of fairwater in Covent Garden." 3 Be- 
 yond this inner courtyard stood the house itself at 
 the bottom of the slope on the bank of the river 
 at the spot now occupied by the arches that support 
 Adelphi Terrace. It was a castellated structure, 
 with its water-gate placed in the middle of the 
 curtain between two turrets, and leading not, as 
 usually was the case, through a garden, but straight 
 from the steps into the house itself by an enclosed 
 pent-house doorway. The domestic offices, and 
 probably the chapel, were on the ground floor, but 
 the principal dwelling-rooms were all upstairs and in 
 the turrets. Aubrey, in his letters (vol. iii. 573), 
 thus speaks of Raleigh's occupancy of one of these 
 turrets : " Durham House was a noble palace. After 
 he came to his greatness, he lived there or in some 
 apartment of it. I well remember his study, which 
 was on a little turret that looked into and over the 
 
 ' It was aftei-wards called the " Queen's Head," and here Old 
 Parr lodged when he came to London. 
 
 = In the next century, when the Strand front was built over, 
 the parishioners wanted this hall for a church for St. Martin's 
 parish, the hall, they said, being only used as a passage. 
 
 3 A century later the water of this spring was found to be 
 foul, and, as its source had been forgotten, an examination 
 was made. The spring was rediscovered under a cellar of a 
 house in Covent Garden. 
 
272 A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 
 
 Thames, and had a prospect which is as pleasant as 
 any in the world." 
 
 The water-gate of the house was not the only 
 approach to the river, as there was a space with 
 trees on each side of the house, with a dwarf wall 
 fronting the water, and a descent on one side by 
 which the neighbours were allowed to get water 
 from the stream for washing and similar purposes. 
 It will thus be seen that the only really private part 
 was the house itself between the inner courtyard and 
 the river ; the great hall and both courtyards being 
 practically open to the public under the supervision 
 of the custodian at the outer gate, who was respon- 
 sible only to the Queen, and was a constant source 
 of friction with the foreign occupants of the house. 
 
 Feria stayed at Durham Place until August, 1558, 
 taking an active part in the distracted Councils of 
 the Queen ; and then, having found that Mary's 
 hopes of an heir were again fallacious, and having 
 bullied and frightened the Queen and Council into 
 raising all the money they could beg or borrow for 
 Philip's service, he went back to Flanders, leaving 
 his English wife in London, with a Flemish and a 
 Spanish ambassador of lower rank than himself to 
 represent his master. But when Mary was known 
 to be dying, he posted back again to be on the spot 
 when the great change took place, and Durham 
 Place was avoided like a plague-spot thenceforward 
 for many days by the courtiers and time-servers who 
 wished to stand well with the new Queen. 
 
 The proud Spaniard repaid distrust by bitter 
 resentment, and soon found that his arrogance made 
 him unfit instrument for cajolery. So he sent for 
 a softer spoken diplomatist to act as his " tender, 
 
A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 273 
 
 and the wily, silken Bishop of Aquila became his 
 guest at Durham Place. Feria could not for long 
 brook the need of paying supple court to the people 
 over whom he had ridden roughshod, and an excuse 
 was soon found by which he might be withdrawn 
 without an open confession of his unfitness, and in 
 May, 1559, he left Durham Place for good, leaving 
 his English Countess and the Bishop of Aquila in 
 possession. 
 
 At Dover he met Baron Ravenstein, who was 
 coming from the Emperor to offer the hand 
 of the Archduke Charles to Elizabeth, and as 
 such a match would only have subserved Spanish 
 interests if it had been effected by the aid of 
 Spanish diplomacy, Feria asked the German to 
 become his guest at Durham Place, which he did, 
 and was made much of by the Countess and the 
 Bishop. But he wore out his welcome very soon, 
 particularly with the latter, a portion of whose 
 apartments he occupied, and the Bishop sneers at 
 him for his constant attendance at Mass. "He is 
 quite a good fellow," he says, " but surely this must 
 be the first negotiation he ever conducted in his life." 
 The Countess soon came to high words with the 
 new Queen, and in a month or so left Durham Place 
 in a dudgeon to join her husband in Flanders, 
 thenceforward to see England no more. With 
 her went, in addition to her escort, Don Juan de 
 Ayala, her grandmother, Lady Dormer, and that 
 Mistress Susan Clarencis who was Queen Mary's 
 most devoted attendant. From that time, namely, 
 July, 1559, the Bishop was temporary master of Dur- 
 ham Place by favour of the Queen, against whom 
 he never ceased to intrigue as far as he dared. 
 
 19 
 
274 A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 
 
 We have already glanced at the structure of the 
 house itself ; it may be now interesting to give some 
 account of the household of the Bishop, which may 
 probably be considered a typical one. First there 
 was a chaplain at three crowns a month and his 
 board, a chief secretary at twelve crowns a month, 
 a chamberlain, two or three gentlemen-in-waiting, a 
 groom-of-the-chambers, and six pages — all without 
 any fixed wage, but who lived on promises, per- 
 quisites, and what they could pick up, eating, how- 
 ever, at the Bishop's expense, and mostly clothed 
 by him. Then there were two couriers at three 
 shillings a month, which they rarely got ; a cook, a 
 buyer, a butler, and a pantryman, at a crown a 
 month each; two cantineers, two "lacqueys," two 
 Irish grooms, and two washerwomen at nominal 
 wages of from three to five shillings a month when 
 they could get them, which was very uncertain. 
 Small as the wages seem to us, the expense of the 
 establishment was very great, as these people and a 
 host of friends and hangers-on were fed roughly but 
 abundantly at the Bishop's cost, the humbler sort 
 eating in the great hall and the gentlemen of the 
 household in the upper chambers. 
 
 The Bishop had hardly been in possession of 
 the house for a year when Challoner, the English 
 Ambassador in Spain, warned Cecil that the " crafty 
 old fox " was getting to know too much about what 
 went on at Court, and that some decent excuse 
 should be sought for turning him out from so advan- 
 tageous a coign of vantage as Durham Place, with 
 its water-gate and its close proximity to the palace, 
 whence spies and courtiers might come and go 
 secretly, as we now know they did, at all hours for 
 
A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 275 
 
 the information of the King of Spain's Ambassador. 
 We may be sure that the hint was not lost on Cecil, 
 but the Bishop was cunning, and to turn him out 
 without good ostensible cause would have been too 
 risky at a time when Philip's future action was still 
 uncertain. So the Queen's porter in charge of the 
 house was told to take careful note of those who 
 went in and out by the Strand gate, and particularly 
 those who attended Mass in the Ambassador's 
 chapel. But still the weak point in the position 
 was the water-gate, the key of which always re- 
 mained in the possession of the Bishop or his 
 major-domo. Various stratagems were resorted to 
 by the English porter to obtain possession of it, 
 but in vain, and more decided measures had at last 
 to be taken. The Bishop's confidential secretary, 
 an Italian named Borghese, was bribed by Cecil 
 to tell all he knew of his master's practices, and 
 great promises of high position and a rich marriage 
 in England were held out to him as a further reward 
 for his treachery. This made him arrogant and 
 boastful, and led to a slashing match with the 
 Bishop's Italian gentleman-in-waiting, whom Bor- 
 ghese nearly killed. He boasted that he had 
 friends at Court, snapped his fingers at the officers 
 of the law and at the Bishop's cajolery and threats, 
 made a clean breast of it to Cecil, and things began 
 to look bad for his late master. Dr. Wotton, a 
 member of the Privy Council, went to Durham 
 Place, and gravely formulated a series of complaints 
 founded on the secretary's information. Most of 
 these complaints were trivial, being to the effect 
 that the Bishop had said and written various depre- 
 ciatory things against the Queen : but one accusa- 
 
276 A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 
 
 tion was serious, namely, than Shan O'Neil had 
 taken the Sacrament at Durham Place, which was 
 true, although the ecclesiastical diplomatist solemnly 
 denied it. 
 
 The Bishop was nearly beside himself with rage 
 and chagrin, and begged plaintively to be relieved 
 from his irksome post among heretics such as these. 
 But all in vain. It did not suit the Queen and Cecil 
 for the moment to perpetrate the last indignity of 
 turning him out of the house, but after this they 
 kept a closer watch upon him than ever and bode 
 their time. They had not to wait long. There 
 were four French hostages in London, held in 
 pledge for the due fulfilment of the Treaty of 
 Chateau Cambresis, and very troublesome guests 
 they were. 
 
 The most turbulent of them was a certain Nan- 
 touillet. Provost of Paris, a fanatical Catholic and 
 partisan of the Guises. He had for some reason 
 or another conceived a grudge against a mercenary 
 captain called Masino, who was in the pay of the 
 Vidame de Chartres, a Huguenot nobleman. So, 
 in the manner of the times, he sought to have him 
 killed, and, seeking for an instrument, he came 
 across a young lad of bad character called Andrea, 
 who was a servant of a lute player at Court, Alfonso 
 the Bolognese. To this lad the Provost gave a 
 dagger and a coat of mail, and promised a reward 
 of a hundred crowns if he killed Masino. Andrea 
 left his musical master and hung about the Strand 
 door of Durham Place for several days at the 
 beginning of January, 1563. At meal times he 
 went into the great hall as others did and ate his 
 fill, and then lounged outside on the benches again. 
 
A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 277 
 
 At last, in the dusk of the afternoon of the 3rd 
 of January, 1563, Captain Masino came swaggering 
 up the Strand on his way to Whitehall, and Andrea 
 fired at him point blank, at a foot distance, with a 
 harquebuss. But the captain's swagger saved his 
 life, for the bullet passed between his left arm and 
 his body, making a hole through his swinging cape 
 and burning his doublet, and then glanced off into 
 a shop on the other side of the way, " and came 
 near killing an honest Englishman therein." Out 
 came the swashbuckler's long rapier, and off ran 
 the assassin into the outer courtyard of Durham 
 Place, shrieking for mercy, followed by the captain 
 and the English neighbours. The Bishop's house- 
 hold in the great courtyard seized their arms, and 
 slammed the doors in the faces of the pursuers, 
 whilst the terrified assassin fled through the great 
 hall, through the inner courtyard and pell-mell 
 up the stair leading to the Bishop's apartment. 
 
 Quite by chance, of course, the Provost of Paris 
 happened to be playing at cards with the Bishop 
 and the French Ambassador, whilst Luis de Paz 
 and other friends looked on. The banging of the 
 crowd at the closed door of the great hall, the terror- 
 stricken cries of the criminal, and the tramping of 
 the servants on the stair, brought out the Bishop 
 and his friends to ask indignantly the cause of the 
 uproar. Andrea on his knees at the door begged 
 for protection and mercy. Captain Masino had 
 beaten him, he said, some days ago, and he had 
 fired a shot at him and missed him, so no harm 
 was done, but still the captain wanted to kill him. 
 Calming the clamour, the Bishop asked whether 
 the shot had been fired inside or outside of Durham 
 
278 A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 
 
 Place. " At the gate ! " they said, and the boy had 
 only entered when pursued, to save his life. "Then," 
 said the Bishop to Bernabe Mata, his majordomo, 
 " turn him out by the water-gate." By mere chance 
 again a boat was in waiting, hired by the Provost 
 of Paris, who slipped outside himself to see the 
 assassin safely off, gave him ten crowns, and whilst 
 the crowd still battered and stormed at the door of 
 the great hall, Andrea was carried to Gravesend as 
 fast as strong oars could propel him. But he was 
 captured next day, and under torture told the whole 
 story. The Provost himself was closely imprisoned 
 in Alderman Chester's house, whence he carried on 
 for weeks an interesting correspondence with his 
 friends outside, written with onion juice on the 
 inside lining of the breeches of a servant. 
 
 This attempted murder was the opportunity for 
 which Cecil had long been waiting. Strong hints 
 about treachery founded on the secretary's informa- 
 tion, galling interference with attendance at Mass, 
 flouts and insults, had been more or less patiently 
 borne by the Bishop at his master's behest, but 
 harbouring a criminal was an infraction of the 
 ordinary law of the land, and if it could be brought 
 home to the Ambassador the Queen would have a 
 good excuse for taking her house away from a 
 tenant who put it to so bad a use. The news was 
 not long travelling from the Strand to Whitehall ; 
 Cobham and a posse of the Queen's guard came 
 straight to Durham Place, and in the name of the 
 law demanded the surrender of the criminal. They 
 were told he was not there, but had left by the 
 water-gate, and, this reply being unsatisfactory, they 
 came back again directly with the Queen's command 
 
A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 279 
 
 that the keys of the water-gate, as well as those of 
 the Strand entrance, should be given up to the 
 English custodian, in order that he might render 
 an account of all those who went in and out. The 
 Bishop writes to Philip : — 
 
 " This custodian is a very great heretic, who for 
 three years past has been in this house with no 
 other duty than to spy out those who come to see 
 me, for the purpose of accusing me. I have put 
 up with it for all this time, although at great incon- 
 venience to myself, so as to avoid having disputes 
 with them on a matter of this description. When 
 the Marshal made this demand, however, I answered 
 him that for twenty years the Ambassadors here 
 had been allowed to reside in the royal houses, 
 nearly all those sent by your Majesty and the 
 Emperor having done so, and they had invariably 
 been accustomed to hold the keys of the houses 
 wherein they lived. I said that it was not right 
 that an innovation should be made in my case after 
 my four years' residence here, especially on so slight 
 a pretext as this matter, in which I was not at all 
 to blame, and considering that this is the first case 
 of the sort that has happened since I have been 
 here, it cannot be said that my house is an habitual 
 refuge for criminals. I would, however, go and 
 give the Queen an account of the matter, which I 
 endeavoured to do." 
 
 But the Queen would not see him either that day 
 or the next. She was too busy she said ; and on 
 the following day, which was Twelfth Day, just as 
 people were coming to Mass, some locksmiths came 
 in a boat to the water-gate and put a new lock on, 
 notwithstanding the protest of the Bishop's house- 
 
28o A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 
 
 hold, and the keys of all the gates were now held 
 by the Queen's officers. The Bishop was in a 
 towering rage, and said, that as the Queen im- 
 prisoned him in his own house, and made a goal 
 of it, he demanded the keys back, or else that she 
 should find him another residence where he might 
 be free. A long account of the solemn conference 
 between the Bishop and the Council is given in the 
 Calendar of State Papers (Foreign), the 7th of 
 January, 1563, and the Bishop's version is now 
 published in the Spanish State Papers of Elizabeth, 
 vol. i. According to both accounts, the Bishop got 
 decidedly the worst of it. Cecil was the spokes- 
 man, and, instead of taking up a defensive position 
 about the keys, he turned the tables by piling up all 
 the complaints which his spies had accumulated for 
 the last two years, and the poor Bishop found him- 
 self the accused rather than the injured party. The 
 escape of the criminal by the water-gate was made 
 the most of — such a thing in law-abiding England 
 had never been heard of before — but after all this 
 was a bagatelle to the other charges. 
 
 The neighbours had complained over and over 
 again, Cecil said, of the quarrels and fights of the 
 Bishop's dependants, and had asked for his removal 
 from the house. There had been a squabble, one 
 of many, between the English porter and the 
 Bishop's scullions about the water, which, after 
 serving the conduit in the inner courtyard, ran 
 down to the basement kitchen of the house itself 
 The Bishop's servants kept their tap running in the 
 kitchen out of malice, in order to deprive the upper 
 conduit of water, and when the English porter com- 
 plained, they shut the door of the great hall, so 
 
A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 281 
 
 that neither he nor the neighbours could get to the 
 conduit at all. Then the porter said he would cut 
 the pipe and stop their supply, and at this threat 
 they went to his house with weapons in their hands 
 and said they would kill him if he did so ; and he 
 was the Queen's servant ! But, worst of all, Cecil 
 accused the Bishop of plotting with Shan O'Neil 
 and Arthur Pole, and said that since the house had 
 been in the Bishop's occupation it had become sadly 
 dilapidated and damaged as regarded the lead, glass 
 doors, and so on, and that the Queen had decided to 
 put it into proper repair and find another fitting resi- 
 dence for him. The Bishop retorted by denying all 
 the charges, and saying that as the house was low- 
 lying and damp and he was old and ailing, he would 
 be glad to leave it. But soft spoken as he was to 
 the Council, he was burning with rage, and wrote 
 to Granvelle in a very different tone. 
 
 It was some months yet, however, before he 
 moved from Durham Place, and during that time the 
 Queen's Marshal again descended upon the house 
 one morning of a Catholic feast-day, and haled all 
 those who were attending Mass to the Marshalsea. 
 The guard had, it appears, concealed themselves 
 betimes in the porter's house, and Cecil had given 
 them orders that if any resistance whatever was 
 offered they were to attack the house in force and 
 capture all the inmates at any cost. But at last the 
 poor old Bishop, heart-broken at having to suffer 
 so much indignity, was got rid of and lodged else- 
 where. Deeply in debt and penniless, he went in 
 the summer of 1563 to Langley, Bucks, where he 
 died in August, some say of poison, some of 
 plague, and some of grief Then Durham Place, 
 
282 A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 
 
 refurbished and repaired, again became a royal 
 guest-house. 
 
 On the 1 6th of July, 1565, the Queen lent 
 Durham Place to Sir Ambrose Cave, one of her 
 Privy Council, for the celebration of his daughter's 
 wedding with the son of Sir Francis Knollys, the 
 Vice-Chamberlain, and the new Spanish Ambas- 
 sador, Canon Guzman de Silva, was invited to the 
 supper in the evening, at which the Queen had 
 promised to be present. By mutual consent it had 
 been arranged that the French and Spanish Ambas- 
 sadors should never meet at Court, or where the 
 vexed question of precedence might arise ; but the 
 two diplomatists, wily Churchmen both, were for 
 ever on the look out for a chance of scoring off each 
 other. No doubt Ambrose Cave thought he had 
 cleverly evaded the difficulty by asking the French 
 Ambassador to the more important meal, namely, 
 the eleven o'clock dinner, and the Spanish Ambas- 
 sador to the supper in the evening, at which the 
 Queen was to be present. But when De Foix 
 learnt at the hospitable feast at Durham Place that 
 the Queen was coming later, he announced his 
 intention of staying to supper as well. If Guzman 
 did not like it, he said, he might stay away ; and 
 poor Cave, foreseeing an unseemly squabble in the 
 Queen's presence, rushed off in despair to the 
 Spanish Ambassador to beg of him not to come. 
 But this was too much for the Toledan pride of the 
 Canon, and he told Cave that he had not sought an 
 invitation to the feast, but since it had been given 
 and accepted he was not going to stay away for the 
 French Ambassador or any one else. As for pre- 
 cedence, his master was the greatest King on earth, 
 
A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 283 
 
 and if the worst came to the worst he would fight 
 out the question. In vain Cave protested that the 
 Queen would not come if there was to be any 
 quarrelling, and he would be ruined at Court. He 
 could not, he said, get rid of the Frenchman, who 
 flatly refused to go, and he could hardly throw him 
 out of the window. Guzman said if there was much 
 ado about it he would throw him out of window 
 himself, and sent off Cave in a huff Then Guzman 
 hurried to Whitehall in order to catch the Queen 
 before she started for Durham Place. He waited 
 for some time, he says, in the privy garden by 
 which she would have to pass to her barge ; and 
 after she had vainly attempted to smooth matters 
 over, and said she herself must refrain from going if 
 there was to be any disturbance, she pretended to 
 fly into a rage at Cave's management of the affair, 
 and sent Cecil and Throgmorton off to Durham 
 Place to get rid of the French Ambassador some- 
 how. What arguments they used Guzman neither 
 knew nor cared, but when he arrived with the 
 Queen the rival Ambassador was gone, and he was 
 the principal guest next to the sovereign. " The 
 Queen stayed through the entertainment, and the 
 Emperor's Ambassador and I supped with her in 
 company with the bride and some of the principal 
 ladies and the gentlemen who came with the 
 Emperor's Ambassador. After supper there was a 
 ball, a tourney, and two masques, and the feast 
 ended at half-past one in the morning." 
 
 In September, 1565, Durham Place received a 
 royal guest in the person of Cecilia, Princess of 
 Sweden, Margravine of Baden, who came prin- 
 cipally to spy how the land lay with regard to the 
 
284 A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 
 
 oft-repeated suit for Elizabeth's hand made by her 
 brother Eric XIV. The EngHsh queen, as was 
 her wont, made much of her at first ; but she, too, 
 wore out her welcome during the months she 
 stayed, for, as we have seen, the housekeeping of 
 great folk in those days was far from economical, 
 and when the Swedish princess ran short of money 
 and wanted pecuniary help, as she soon did, frugal 
 Elizabeth's friendship began to cool, and it ended 
 in the poor Princess having to pledge even her 
 clothes to satisfy her more pressing creditors before 
 they would let her go ; and her husband, a ruling 
 prince, was put into gaol at Rochester by the irate 
 tradesmen who had trusted his wife. But all this 
 was at the end of her visit ; the beginning was cer- 
 tainly brilliant and auspicious. 
 
 The Princess arrived at Dover in the Queen's 
 ships, and was there received by Lord Cobham and 
 his wife, the Mistress of the Robes, and a knot of 
 courtiers sent by the Queen from Windsor. They 
 rode as usual through Kent to Gravesend, where 
 the Queen's barges awaited them, and the Queen's 
 cousin. Lord Hunsdon, and six pages in royal livery 
 received the Princess, who was thus carried up the 
 river with all pomp and circumstance to the water- 
 gate of Durham Place. Her dress on the occasion 
 attracted attention in London by its strangeness. 
 She was attired, we are told, in a long black velvet 
 robe, with a mantle of cloth of silver and black, and 
 on her fair hair she wore a golden crown. At the 
 top of the water-stairs at Durham Place she was 
 received by the Countess of Sussex, Lady Bacon, 
 and Cecil, and installed in the house with all 
 honour. A day or two afterwards the Queen came 
 
A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 285 
 
 from Windsor to visit her. " She received her 
 Majesty at the door, where she embraced her 
 warmly, and both went up to her apartments. 
 After the Queen had passed some time with her 
 in great enjoyment she returned home, and the 
 next night, the 1 5th, the Princess was dehvered of 
 a son." In due time the young Prince of Baden 
 was christened with great pomp, and Durham Place 
 was a scene of festivity on that and many other 
 occasions whilst the Swedish Princess resided there. 
 We have rather a full account of one of Queen 
 Elizabeth's visits to the Princess at Durham Place, 
 as Guzman, the Spanish Ambassador, happened to 
 be at Whitehall when her Majesty was starting, 
 and, at her invitation, accompanied her thither in 
 her barge. He says he was with her alone for 
 some time in the cabin of the barge, until, probably, 
 her Majesty becoming tired of a tete-a-tHe with an 
 elderly clergyman, called her new pet Heneage to 
 her, and began to whisper and flirt with him. The 
 Princess awaited the Queen at the water-gate as 
 usual, and led her to the principal apartments 
 upstairs, although neither royal lady would consent 
 to be seated until a stool was brought for Guzman, 
 who relates the incident. The Queen came by 
 water, and returned in a coach by way of the 
 Strand. When she was seated in the carriage with 
 Lady Cobham, her maiden Majesty could not resist 
 the opportunity afforded by the condition of her 
 companion to make rather a risky joke to the Am- 
 bassador, who, ecclesiastic though he was, retorted 
 fully in the same vein, and carefully repeated the 
 conversation in a letter to his royal master the next 
 day. 
 
286 A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 
 
 For the next few years Durham Place gave 
 shelter to many courtiers, ambassadors, and honoured 
 guests of the Queen, and was occasionally lent, as 
 we have seen, for parties and merrymakings, its 
 large size and easy access by land and water 
 making it peculiarly appropriate for such uses. But 
 the elder Earl of Essex, Walter Devereux, made a 
 somewhat longer stay in some of its apartments. 
 It was here, probably enough in the turret-rooms 
 which were Raleigh's favourite abiding-place, that 
 Essex planned that expedition to Ireland with 
 which his name was destined for all time to be 
 linked. From here he started in August, 1573, 
 and, with the exception of one flying visit in 1575, 
 never saw Durham Place again. 
 
 In 1583 the Queen granted the house to Raleigh. 
 It was in a dilapidated condition, and he spent, as 
 he says, ^2,000 in repairing it ; certain it is that 
 during twenty years that Raleigh lived there Durham 
 Place reached its apogee of splendour. The Strand 
 had greatly altered for the better since the time 
 when Feria lived at Durham Place. The Bishop ol 
 Carlisle's house, on the other side of Ivy Lane, had 
 disappeared, and Robert Cecil had built a splendid 
 house for himself on its site. His father and elder 
 brother, too, across the Strand had another palace, 
 and between them they had paved and made up 
 the roadway for a considerable distance before 
 their properties. But slowly, too, the Strand was 
 becoming a great fashionable thoroughfare, and 
 long-headed Robert Cecil knew well that as shops 
 grew up along its line the street frontage would 
 increase in value. So he cast covetous eyes across 
 his own boundary at Ivy Lane on to the great 
 
A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 287 
 
 ramshackle congeries of stables and outhouses 
 which fronted the Strand at Durham Place. As 
 long as his mistress lived he dared not disturb 
 Raleigh, but no sooner had the great Queen 
 passed away than Raleigh was turned out with 
 every circumstance of harshness and insult, and 
 Lord Salisbury got his street frontage, upon which 
 he built Britain's Burse, which was to be a rival to 
 the Royal Exchange. 
 
 Thenceforward Durham Place went down in the 
 world. A sort of square, with entrance by what is 
 now called Durham Street, was built on a portion 
 of the garden and great courtyard, but the hall and 
 mansion themselves were left intact, and the latter 
 was still used for the lodging of ambassadors and 
 others, and the Bishops of Durham appear to 
 have had lodgings in what formerly was their own 
 palace. Lord Keeper Coventry lived, or at all 
 events wrote, his letters here, and Lord Keeper 
 Finch died at Durham Place in 1640. Lord Pem- 
 broke bought the whole site soon after, intending to 
 build himself a house there ; but although the plans 
 were made the project fell through. The Com- 
 monwealth soldiers were quartered in the house for 
 nearly two years, and Lord Pembroke had to find 
 himself a house elsewhere, for which the Parliament 
 voted him ;!f 200. 
 
 The Strand front became more and more valu- 
 able, and by and by another exchange was built 
 on the rest of the frontage, whilst the property 
 in the rear continued to get more squalid as the 
 time went on. In the middle of the last century 
 the exchanges were pulled down and a fine row 
 of shops built on the site, whilst projects for 
 
288 A PALACE IN THE STRAND. 
 
 dealing with the space still occupied by the old 
 palace were busying many men's minds. At last 
 came the brothers Adam and made a clean sweep 
 of it all, back and front, and built the Adelphi as we 
 see it to-day. The wide expanse of mud which at 
 low tide formerly spread from the walls of the 
 old palace is now replaced by the waving trees of a 
 public garden. Great railway stations, gigantic 
 hotels, towering masses of " flats " and " mansion " 
 rear their high heads all round the site of old Dur- 
 ham Place. The wealth and power have passed 
 from the hands of the few to the hands of the many, 
 and instead of one man living in squalid splendour 
 in the comfortless palace surrounded by hosts of 
 unproductive hinds, hundreds live in comfort, use- 
 fulness, and self-respect upon the spot. There is 
 probably more money spent in a week by working 
 people in the garish music-hall that occupies the 
 Strand front than would have sufficed to keep 
 Durham Place in full swing for a year during the 
 time of its greatest grandeur. 
 
THE EXORCISM OF CHARLES THE 
 BEWITCHED. 
 
 20 
 
CHAR1,ES II. OF SPAIN, "The Bewitched." 
 (From a painiinghy Claudio Coclh'.) 
 
THE EXORCISM OF CHARLES THE 
 BEWITCHED.^ 
 
 The pallid little milksop in black velvet, with his 
 lank, tow-coloured hair and- his great underhung 
 chin, who will simper for ever on the canvas of 
 Carreno, had grown to be a man — a poor feeble 
 anaemic old man of thirty-seven, ^ the last of his 
 race, to whom fastings and feastings, the ceremonies 
 of the Church, and the nostrums of the empirics had 
 been equally powerless in providing a successor 
 for the crumbling empire of his fathers. The 
 
 ' The Gentleman's Magazine, November, 1893. 
 
 ' Stanhope, the EngUsh minister in Madrid, writes to the 
 Duke of Shrewsbury, September, 1696 : " They cut off his 
 hair in this sickness, which the decay of nature had almost 
 done before, all his crown being bald. He has a ravenous 
 stomach, and swallows all he eats whole, for his nether jaw 
 stands out so much that his two rows of teeth cannot meet, 
 so that a gizzard or a liver of a hen passes down whole, and 
 his weak stomach not being able to digest it he void it in 
 the same manner." 
 
292 THE EXORCISM OF 
 
 strong spirits upon whom he had leant in his youth 
 and early manhood had passed away. His im- 
 perious mother, who reigned so long and unworthily 
 in his name, had died of cancer only a year or two 
 ago. His virile brother, Don Juan Jos^ of Austria, 
 in whom the worn-out blood of the imperial race had 
 been quickened by the brighter but baser blood of 
 his actress mother, had been poisoned. His beloved 
 first wife, the beautiful Marie Louise of Orleans, 
 had faded away in the sepulchral gloom of that 
 dreary Court, and his new German wife, Marie Anne 
 of Neuberg, with her Imperious violence, frightened 
 him out of what little wit he had left by her 
 advocacy of new ideas. For new ideas to that poor 
 brain were the inventions of the very Devil himself 
 He had been drilled for years into the knowledge 
 that the claims of his French kinsmen to his in- 
 heritance were just ; and, though for years past all 
 the diplomatists of Europe had been plotting and 
 planning for one or the other claimant with varying 
 success, all that poor Charles the Bewitched himself 
 wanted was to be left alone in peace whilst he lived, 
 and that one of his French cousins should succeed 
 him when he died. There was not much chance 
 of either wish being fulfilled from the time that 
 England and the Austrian faction juggled Marie 
 Anne of Neuberg into the palace as Charles' second 
 wife. She made short work of all the courtiers and 
 ministers who favoured the French succession — 
 they had one after the other either to come round 
 to her side or go. Most of the best of them — not 
 that any of them were very good — sulked in their 
 own provinces awaiting events, whilst others still 
 plotted in the capital. 
 
CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 293 
 
 In the meantime the Queen and her camarilla 
 were all-powerful. After various weak and futile 
 explosions, the smashing of crockery and breaking 
 of furniture and the like, the poor King, for the 
 sake of peace, let her have her own way, and 
 ostensibly favoured the claims of the Austrian 
 Archduke to his inheritance. But like most 
 semi-idiots he could not relax his grasp on an 
 idea of which he had once become possessed, and 
 though he was surrounded day and night by the 
 Queen's creatures, and was content that they should 
 have their way whilst he was well, he no sooner 
 fell into one of his periodical fits of deadly sickness 
 than, with all the terror and dread of death, and 
 constant fear of poison and witchcraft upon him, 
 he yearned for the presence of those who had been 
 with him in earlier and happier days, before the 
 German Queen and her base blood-suckers had 
 come to disturb his tranquillity. 
 
 The story of the strange and obscure Court 
 intrigue which resulted in the gaining by the 
 French faction of the upper hand in the palace 
 during the critical time preceding Charles's death, 
 has often and variously been told, mostly with 
 an ignorant or wilful distortion of events. M. 
 Morel-Fatio has shown how Victor Hugo has 
 deliberately falsified the character of the Queen 
 Marie Anne of Neuberg, in order that he might 
 make use of the local colour furnished by the 
 Countess d'Aulnoy's letters written from Spain 
 fifteen years before the period represented by the 
 dramatist ; ' and many other writers, French and 
 
 ' "L'Histoire dans Ruy Bias" in "Etudes sur I'Espagne," 
 by A. Morel-Fatio, Paris. 
 
294 THE EXORCISM OF 
 
 English, who have been attracted by the romantic 
 elements of the witchcraft story, have surrounded 
 it with a cloud of fictitious persons and incidents 
 which makes it difficult now to distinguish between 
 history and romance. Every writer on the subject, 
 so far as I know, moreover, has stopped short at 
 the story of the exorcism itself, whereas it really 
 developed into a great struggle of many years' 
 duration between the Grand Inquisitor on the 
 one hand and the Council of Inquisitors on 
 the other, in which, curiously enough, the latter 
 body championed the cause of legal process as 
 against the arbitrary power assumed by its own 
 chief 
 
 There is in the British Museum ' a full manu- 
 script account from day to day of the whole 
 transaction from beginning to end, written at the 
 time by one of the clerks or secretaries in the 
 Inquisition, who, although he avows himself a 
 partisan of the French faction and of the King's 
 confessor, Froilan Diaz, around whom all the storm 
 raged, declares that he has set down the unvarnished 
 truth of the whole complicated business, in order 
 that people may know after his death what really 
 happened, and how much they " owe to his Sacred 
 Majesty Philip V. for preserving the privileges of 
 the holy tribunal of the Inquisition, or, what is 
 the same, our holy faith." By the aid of this 
 set of documents, and another set in the Museum 
 (part of which has been published in Spanish), 
 
 ' Add. MS. 10241, British Museum. See also " Proceso 
 criminal fulminado contra el Rnio. P.M. Fray Froylan Diaz, 
 de la sagrada religion de predicadores, Confesor del Rev 
 N.S.D. Carlos II. : Madrid, 1787." 
 
CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 295 
 
 the story, which is well worth preserving, may 
 be reconstructed, and the hitherto unrelated par- 
 ticulars of the actual exorcism rescued from 
 oblivion. 
 
 The most powerful person at Court next to the 
 Queen was Father Matilla, the King's confessor, 
 whose hand was everywhere, and who said on 
 one occasion that he would much rather make 
 bishops than be one. Then came the other mem- 
 bers of the Queen's camarilla, an obscure country 
 lawyer who had been created Count Adanero, and 
 Minister of Finance and the Indies, who provided 
 the crew with money to their hearts' content, and 
 squandered and muddled away the national re- 
 sources, whilst all Spain was groaning under 
 impossible imposts ; Madame Berlips, a German 
 woman who had an extraordinary influence over 
 the Queen, and an insatiable greed; two Italian 
 monks, and a mutilated musician of the Royal 
 Chapel. There were two great nobles also who, 
 after several periods of disgrace and hesitation, 
 had at last thrown themselves on to the Queen's side 
 — the Admiral of Castile and Count Oropesa, the 
 ostensibly responsible ministers ; but these prac- 
 tically only carried out the designs of the Queen's 
 camarilla, and were content with the appearance 
 and profits of power without its exercise. The 
 populace, as may be imagined, were in deadly 
 opposition to the Queen and her foreign sur- 
 roundings, and were strongly in favour of one of 
 the younger French princes whom they might adopt 
 and make a Spaniard of, as they never could hope 
 to do with a German archduke, and thus, as they 
 thought, avoid the threatened partition of their 
 
296 THE EXORCISM OF 
 
 country. ' This was the position of things in March, 
 1698, when the King, who had partly recovered 
 from his previous attack eighteen months before, 
 was again taken ill. 2 He was dragged out by the 
 Queen to totter and stagger in religious processions, 
 was made to go through the ceremonial forms of 
 his position, nodding and babbling incoherently to 
 ministers and ambassadors whom he was obliged 
 to receive, and at last, weary and sick to death, 
 haunted by an unquiet conscience and with the 
 appalling fear of hourly poison, he sent word by 
 a trusty messenger to the wise, crafty old minister 
 of his mother. Cardinal Portocarrero, who had been 
 banished from the Court by the Queen, that he 
 wished to see him. 
 
 The Cardinal needed no two invitations, but 
 posted off to the palace. He had still plenty of 
 
 ' Stanhope to his son, March 14, 1698 : " Our Court is in great 
 disorder : the grandees all dog and cat, Turk and Moor. The 
 King is in a languishing condition, so weak and spent as to his 
 principles of life that there is only hope of preserving him for a 
 few weeks. . . . The general inclination is altogether French 
 to the succession, their aversion to the Queen having set them 
 against all her countrymen, and if the French King will con- 
 tent himself that one of his younger grandchildren be King 
 of Spain, he will find no opposition either from grandees or 
 common people. The King is not in a condition to give 
 audience, speaking very little and that not much to the pur- 
 pose. The terms in which they express it to me is that he 
 is embelecado, atolondrado, and dementado. He fahcies the 
 devils are very busy in tempting him." 
 
 ^ " The King is so veiy weak he can scarcely lift his hand to 
 his head to feed himself, and so extremely melancholy that 
 neither his buffoons, dwarfs, nor puppet shows, all of which 
 show their abilities before him, can in the least diveil him 
 from fancying eveiything that is said or done to be a tempta- 
 tion of the Devil, and never thinking himself safe without his 
 confessor and two friars by his side, whom he makes lie in 
 his chamber every night " (Stanhope to the Earl of Portland, 
 March 14, 1698). 
 
CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 297 
 
 friends of various ranks, notwithstanding the 
 Queen, and amongst them was Count de Benavente, 
 the Gentleman of the Bedchamber. By him he 
 was conducted at night to the King's bed-side, 
 after the Queen had retired, and heard the heart- 
 broken recital of the monarch's troubles. The 
 King told him he was ill and unhappy and in 
 trouble about his soul's health. He was conscious 
 of a struggle going on within him between his know- 
 ledge of the right thing to do and his incapacity to 
 do it, and this left him no peace or happiness. The 
 people who surrounded him were distasteful to him, 
 his confessor, Matilla, gave him no real consolation, 
 and he ascribed much of his own illness and misery 
 to the bad management and ceaseless worry he 
 had to endure from those who had the direction 
 of affairs. The King unburdened himself to 
 the Cardinal in his lisping, mumbling fashion, 
 his utterance ■ broken with sobs and tears, but 
 sufficiently plainly for Portocarrero to see that if 
 he and his friends acted boldly, swiftly, and secretly 
 they might again become predominant and dispose 
 of the splendid inheritance of Spain and the Indies. 
 He said some consoling, soothing words to the 
 King, and promised him that steps should be 
 taken to insure him tranquillity, and then he took 
 his leave. The interview took place in the ancient 
 Alcazar, which stood on the site of the present 
 royal palace in Madrid, for poor Carlos had no 
 spirits for the new Buen Retire Palace, where his 
 father had been so gay and splendid. It was nearly 
 eleven o'clock at night, but as soon as the Cardinal 
 ofot back to his own house he summoned his friends 
 to a private conference. They were all of them 
 
298 THE EXORCISM OF 
 
 courtiers in disgrace with the Queen, and most of 
 them extremely popular with the mob in Madrid. 
 There was Count Monterey, mild and temporising, 
 with his hesitating speech and his irritating "hems 
 and hahs " ; there was the Marquis of Leganes, 
 a hot-headed soldier, rash and pugnacious ; Don 
 Francisco Ronquillo, ambitious, intriguing, and 
 bold, who, with his brother, was the idol of the 
 " chulos " of the capital ; Don Juan Antonio Urraca, 
 honest, uncouth, and boorish ; and, above all, quiet, 
 wise, and prudent Don Sebastian de Cotes, a close 
 friend of the Cardinal's. First, Monterey was in- 
 vited to give his opinion as to what should be done, 
 but he dwelt mainly upon the danger to them all 
 presented from the King's infirmity of purpose ; 
 and how one minister after the other who had for 
 a moment succeeded in persuading him to make 
 a stand, had been disgraced and banished the 
 moment the Queen got access to her husband and 
 twisted him round her finger, as she could. He 
 had no desire to take risks, apparently, and could 
 recommend nothing but that the Cardinal Arch- 
 bishop should keep his footing in the palace, and 
 gradually work upon the King's mind. Leganes 
 scoffed at such timid counsels ; where the disease 
 was so violent as this a strong remedy must be 
 adopted. This should be the immediate banish- 
 ment, and, if necessary, the imprisonment of the 
 Admiral of Castile, the principal minister. He 
 (Leganes) had plenty of arms at home, and had 
 hundreds of men in Madrid who would serve him, 
 with experienced officers to command them, and 
 could soon make short work of the Admiral and 
 his train of poets and buffoons. Ronquillo went 
 
CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 299 
 
 further still. He said that was all very well, but 
 at the same time they must seize the Queen and 
 shut her up at the Huelgas de Burgos. Monterey 
 called him a fool, and said such an act would be 
 the death of the King and would ruin them all 
 before he could alter his will ; and the two nobles 
 rushed at each other to fight out the question on the 
 spot before the Archbishop himself When they 
 were separated the Cardinal no doubt thought it 
 was time to do something practical, and asked his 
 friend Cotes his opinion. Cotes was prosy enough, 
 but practical. He said of course Portocarrero could 
 easily get the King to sign any decree he liked, but 
 the Queen could more easily still get him to revoke 
 it ; and, although it would be well to strike at the 
 Queen herself, he did not know who would dare 
 to do it. But after all she could only influence 
 him by mundane means ; the confessor, Matilla, 
 whom the King hated and feared, and flouted only 
 yesterday, must be got rid of and the Queen would 
 lose her principal instrument. This was approved 
 of, but no one could suggest a fitting successor 
 except Ronquillo — who, of course, had a nominee 
 of his own ! — who was promptly vetoed. Each of 
 the others doubtless had one too, but thought best 
 to press his claims privately. So it was left to 
 the Archbishop to choose a new successor and 
 gain the King's consent to his appointment. The 
 choice fell upon a certain Froilan Diaz, professor of 
 theology at the University of Alcala. One of his 
 recommendations was that he was near enough to 
 the capital to be brought thither quickly, before the 
 affair got wind, and no sooner did the Ronquillos 
 learn that Cotes had recommended him to the 
 
300 THE EXORCISM OF 
 
 Archbishop than they sent a mounted messenger 
 post-haste to Alcald to inform Father Froilan of 
 his coming greatness, and claim for themselves 
 the credit of his appointment. 
 
 A few days afterwards, in the afternoon, the King 
 lay in bed languidly listening to the music which was 
 being played in the outer chamber, with which his 
 own room communicated by an open door. The 
 outer room, as usual, was crowded with courtiers, and 
 in the deep recess of a window stood the confessor, 
 Matilla, chatting with a friend, alert and watchful 
 of all that passed. Suddenly Count de Benavente 
 entered with a stout, fresh-coloured ecclesiastic, 
 quiet and modest of mien and unknown to all. 
 They walked across the presence chamber without 
 announcement, and entered the King's chamber, 
 shutting the door behind them. Matilla's face grew 
 longer and his eyes wider as he saw this, and he 
 knew instinctively that his day was over. Turning 
 to his friend, he said, " Good-bye ; this is beginning 
 where it ought to have left off," and with that he 
 left the palace, and went with the conviction of 
 disaster to his monastery of the Rosario. They 
 had all known for some days that something had 
 been brewing. Spies had dogged every footstep 
 of the Archbishop and those who attended the 
 midnight meeting at his house, but they had left 
 out of account the King's own Gentleman of the 
 Bedchamber, Count de Benavente, who had arranged 
 the whole affair. It is true that when the Queen 
 had, as usual, entered the King's bedroom that day, 
 at eleven o'clock, to see him dine, he had told her 
 in a whisper, unable to retain his secret, that he 
 had changed his confessor. She, astounded and 
 
CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 301 
 
 disconcerted at the news, pretended to approve 
 of the change — anything, she said, to give tran- 
 quillity to her dear Carlos. But when she could 
 leave, she flew with all speed to her room, sum- 
 moned the Admiral and the camarilla, and told 
 them they were undone. Panic reigned supreme, 
 the general idea being that Matilla himself had 
 betrayed them. In any case they saw that he was 
 past praying for, so they threw him overboard, and 
 decided to try to save themselves, and see if, in 
 time, they could not buy over the new confessor. 
 
 The only man of them who kept his head was 
 a great ecclesiastic, a brother of the Admiral of 
 Aragon, and of a member of the Council of the 
 Inquisition, one Folch de Cardona, Commissary- 
 General of the Order of San Francisco, who was 
 subsequently to play an important part in the tragi- 
 comedy. When Matilla learnt that the Queen and 
 her friends had known of the change an hour or two 
 before it happened he broke down. " Oh, for that 
 hour ! " he exclaimed ; " in it I would have set it all 
 right." Divested of all his offices, dismissed from 
 his inquisitorship, with a pension of 2,000 ducats, 
 he died within a week of poison or a broken heart, 
 and he disappears from the scene. 
 
 In his place stands Froilan Diaz, a simple- 
 minded tool of the courtiers who had appointed 
 him. He did not look very terrible, even to the 
 panic-stricken Queen and her friends, and they 
 decided to make the best of him, and try to 
 confine the changes to the confessorship. Hence- 
 forward Froilan Diaz was a man to be courted 
 and flattered. Honours and wealth were lavished 
 on him, and for a year no great change was 
 
302 THE EXORCISM OF 
 
 made in the palace or outside ; but under the 
 surface intrigue was busy, both at the King's 
 bedside and in the haunts of the Madrid mob. At 
 the end of a year the latter element made short 
 work of the ministers and the Queen's gang and 
 drove the lot of them out, to be replaced by Arias, 
 the Ronquillos, and the French party ; but with 
 this revolt the present study has nothing to do. 
 
 The King's extreme decrepitude for a young man 
 had several years before given rise to rumours 
 amongst the vulgar that he was bewitched, and the 
 assertion had been made the subject of grave con- 
 sideration by the Grand Inquisitor of the time, who 
 reported that he could find no evidence to act upon. 
 At the time of the first serious illness of the King, 
 in 1697, he had of his own action sent to the new 
 Grand Inquisitor a terrible and austere Dominican 
 monk called Rocaberti, and had confessed to him 
 his conviction that his illness was not natural but 
 the result of some maleficent charm, and besought 
 him earnestly to have an exhaustive inquiry made. 
 The Inquisitor told him that he would, if he pleased, 
 have inquiry made, but saw no possible result could 
 come of it, unless the King could point out some 
 person whom he suspected or some plausible evi- 
 dence to go upon. And so the matter remained 
 until some weeks after Father Proilan had become 
 confessor. As may be supposed, Froilan Diaz's 
 elevation had reminded all his old friends of his 
 existence, and, amongst others, an old fellow-student 
 visited him, with whom he fell into talk about past 
 days and former acquaintances. " And how is 
 Father Arguelles getting on .'' " said the confessor. 
 " Ah, poor fellow ! " was the reply ; " he is confessor 
 
CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 303 
 
 at a convent at Cangas, terribly ill, but in no-wise 
 cast down, for the Devil himself has assured him in 
 person that God is preserving him for a great work 
 yet that shall resound through the world." The 
 King's confessor pricked up his ears at this, and 
 wanted further particulars. It appeared, according 
 to the friend, that Arguelles had had much trouble 
 with two nuns of his convent, who were possessed, 
 and in the course of his exorcisms had become quite 
 on intimate terms with his Satanic Majesty. Froilan 
 thought this was too important to be neglected, so 
 he consulted the Grand Inquisitor, the Dominican 
 Rocaberti. The grim monk did not, apparently, 
 much like the business, but consented to a letter 
 being written to the Bishop of Oviedo, the superior 
 of Arguelles, asking him to question his subordinate 
 as to the truth of the assertion that the King was 
 suffering from diabolical charms. The Bishop, de- 
 termined that he would not be made the channel 
 for such nonsense, wrote a sensible answer back, 
 saying that he did not believe in the witchcraft 
 story. All that ailed the King was a weakness of the 
 heart and a too ready acquiescence in the Queen's 
 wishes, so he would have nothing to do with it. 
 
 Then Froilan sent direct to Arguelles, who 
 himself was afraid of the business unless he was 
 secured from harm, and refused to put any questions 
 to the Devil unless he had the warrant of the Grand 
 Inquisitor. A letter was therefore written by the 
 latter on June 18, 1698, ordering him to write the 
 names of the King and Queen on a sheet of 
 paper, and, without uttering them, to place the 
 paper on his breast, summon the Devil, and ask 
 him whether the persons whose names were so 
 
304 THE EXORCISM OF 
 
 written were suffering from witchcraft. Froilan 
 sent the letter in a long one of his own to his old 
 friend ArgUelles with an elaborate cipher and other 
 devices for secrecy in subsequent communica- 
 tions. No names henceforward were to be written. 
 The vicar, ArgUelles, replied, expressing no sur- 
 prise at so strange a request, but said the Devil had 
 previously told him that he was reserved for great 
 things, but had not given particulars, only that he 
 should receive an order from a superior. Then he 
 tells the result obtained by his first effort. He says 
 he placed the hands of the possessed nun upon the 
 altar, and by the power of his incantations com- 
 manded the Devil to answer the question put to him. 
 The Devil was not at all shy, but "swore by God 
 Almighty that it was the truth that the King was 
 bewitched," " et hoc ad destruendam materiam gene- 
 rationis in Rege et eum incapacem ponendum ad 
 regnum administrandum." He said the charm had 
 been administered by moonlight when the King was 
 fourteen years of age. 
 
 So far the Devil. Then the vicar, as an expert, 
 gives some advice of his own. He says the 
 King should be given half a pint of oil to drink, 
 fasting, with the benediction, and the ceremony 
 of exorcism which the Church prescribes. ' He 
 
 ' How fit the King was to undergo such a regime as this 
 may be judged by Stanhope's letter to his son, dated Madrid, 
 June 15, 1698 : " Our gazettes here tells us every week that 
 his CathoUc Majesty is in perfect health, and it is the general 
 answer to all inquiries. It is true that he is abroad ever)- day, 
 but hnret laieri lethalis aniiido ; his ankles and knees swell 
 again, his eyes bag, the lids red as scarlet, and the rest of his 
 face a greenish yellow. His tongue is irabada, as they ex- 
 press it ; that is, he has such a fumbling in his speech, those 
 near him hardly understand him, at which he sometimes 
 grows angry, asks if they all be deaf." 
 
CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 305 
 
 must not eat anything for some time after- 
 wards, and everything he eats and drinks must 
 be blessed. The case is a very bad one, he 
 says, and a miracle will be performed. If the 
 King can bear it he should be given, in addition, 
 the charm prescribed by the Church, but not 
 otherwise. 
 
 He gives the not improbable opinion that as the 
 King will vomit dreadfully he must be held in the 
 arms of the " master," by which name it was agreed 
 that the Grand Inquisitor should be referred to in 
 the correspondence. But he says not an hour is 
 to be lost, and the master himself must administer 
 the draught. 
 
 But this remedy was too strong, and Froilan 
 and the Inquisitor, or the friend and the master, 
 as they are called henceforward, write to say 
 that, although they are much obliged to the Devil 
 and the vicar, such a draught as that recom- 
 mended would certainly kill the King, and they 
 beg the exorciser to ask the Devil again for a more 
 practical and a safer remedy. " How much and in 
 what form is the Church charm to be given ; at what 
 hour ; on what parts of the body } " And so on — 
 queer questions indeed to be addressed by two 
 pillars of the Church to the Devil. But this is not 
 all. They draw up a series of questions that would 
 do honour to a cross-examining barrister. " What 
 is the proof of witchcraft? In what way does 
 it act so as to make the King do things contrary 
 to his own will ? How are the organs affected 
 cleansed by the charm ? What compact was made 
 with the Devil when the witchery was effected ? 
 Was it administered internally, or externally ? 
 
 21 
 
3o6 THE EXORCISM OF 
 
 Who administered it ? Has it been repeated ? Is 
 the Queen included in its operation ? " And other 
 questions of a similar sort. The vicar is rather 
 shocked at their inquisitiveness, and refuses to put 
 such questions. How can he ask the Devil any- 
 thing that the Church does not deal with in its 
 exorcising ceremonies ? 
 
 Another letter is sent asking him to consult the 
 Devil as to whether it will be well to take the King 
 to Toledo, to which the vicar replies somewhat 
 evasively, reproaching his associates. What is the 
 good, he says, of all their professed desire to heal 
 the King whilst they refuse to carry out the direc- 
 tions sent them ? A change of place is useless if 
 he takes the malady with him, and until they follow 
 out the instructions already given it is no good for 
 him to consult the Devil again. " Besides," he 
 says, getting into dangerously deep water for a 
 country vicar, "how can you expect the King to 
 be well ? Justice is not done, the churches are 
 starved, hospitals are despoiled and closed, and 
 souls are allowed to suffer in purgatory because 
 money is begrudged for Masses, and above all, the 
 King does not administer justice after swearing 
 on the cross that he would do so. The Divine 
 message has already been delivered to you. I have 
 told you all it is fitting for you to know and how to 
 cure the patient, and you do nothing but ask a lot 
 more questions. I tell ye, then, that you will find no 
 excuse for this at the supreme judgment, and the 
 death of the King will be laid at your door, since 
 you could cure him and will not." This was almost 
 too bold to be borne, and the Inquisitor's secretary 
 writes back in grave condemnation. He again 
 
CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 307 
 
 insists upon the questions being put to the Devil. 
 ' ' You are presumptuous to dare to suppose that you 
 know better than the friend and the master, and 
 that you can command in this way whilst refusing to 
 obey. You want to get out of it now by attributing 
 the King's illness to other causes. The ' friend 
 and the master ' are deeply offended, and if you do 
 not do as you are commanded all will be frustrated, 
 and we distressed to feel that, just as God had 
 begun to open the door of knowledge to us, all is 
 spoilt by your presumption and obstinacy." 
 
 After a good deal more of mutual recrimination 
 the vicar gave way, and on September 9, 1698, 
 he wrote that he had sworn the Devil on the holy 
 sacrament, and he had declared that the charm had 
 been administered to the King in a cup of chocolate 
 on April 3, 1673. " I asked," he writes, "what the 
 charm was made of, and he said three parts of a 
 dead man." " What parts ? " " Brain to take away 
 his will, intestines to spoil his health, and kidney to 
 ruin his virility." " Can we burn any sign to restore 
 him ? " " No, by the God that made you and me." 
 "Was it a man or a woman who administered the 
 charm ? " "A woman ; and she has already been 
 judged." "Why did she do it?" "In order to 
 reign." "When.''" "In the day of Don Juan of 
 Austria, whom she killed with a similar charm, only 
 stronger." 
 
 This of course was directed against the late 
 Queen-mother — a dangerous line to take, consider- 
 ing that the Cardinal Archbishop Portocarrero, 
 whose creature Frollan was, had been her friend 
 and minister. Lucifer continued, that the remedies 
 were those that the Church prescribed. First, 
 
3o8 THE EXORCISM OF 
 
 drinking of blessed oil fasting ; secondly, anointing 
 the whole body with the oil ; next, strong purges 
 and absolute isolation of the King even from the 
 sight of the Queen. Then the Devil got sulky, 
 said he was tired and knew no more, and refused to 
 say another word. The adoption of such a course 
 as that prescribed, with a man who was dying 
 already of exhaustion would have been murder ; 
 and of course the associates again hesitated, writing 
 to the vicar directing him to inquire of the Devil 
 if any witchery has been practised since the first, 
 and why the King cannot do right when he wishes 
 to, instead of being, as he complains, impelled to act 
 wrongly against his will. It seems impossible that 
 this can be the result of the original charm, particu- 
 larly as the person who gave it is dead. Has any- 
 thing been given since ? " Yes," says the Devil, 
 "in 1694, only four years ago, on September 24th, 
 a similar charm was given in food and left no out- 
 ward sign," and this the Devil swears by God and 
 the Holy Trinity. Then Lucifer, tired of answer- 
 ing questions, apparently gives a bit of advice. He 
 says they are thwarting Providence by their delay, 
 and if they do not hurry up the King will be past 
 help. 
 
 But again the friend and the master want more 
 information, and on October 22nd write to say that 
 it is of the highest importance that they should know 
 the name and residence of the witch ; who ordered 
 her to act, and why. This the Devil absolutely refuses 
 to answer ; but as his past proceedings proved him 
 to be a demon somewhat infirm of purpose, they do 
 not seem to have been at all discouraged, but a 
 week or so afterwards return to the charge with a 
 
CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 309 
 
 perfect catechism, which they order the vicar to 
 put to his diabolical interlocutor. "Who was the 
 witch ? What was her name, condition, and resi- 
 dence ? Who ordered the charm, and why ? Who 
 got the corpse and prepared the conjuration ? Who 
 handed the chocolate to the King ? Had the witch 
 any children ? " And so on at great length. The 
 answer came from the vicar on October 7th, in 
 which the Devil seems to have made quite a clean 
 breast of it. The Queen-mother, he said, had 
 ordered the first charm ; the first witch was a woman 
 named Casilda, married, with two sons, who lived 
 away from her. The go-between was Valenzuela 
 (the Queen-mother's favourite), and the witch had 
 no accomplice but the Devil. She sought the 
 corpse and prepared the charm, and handed it to 
 Valenzuela. The second charm, in 1694, was ad- 
 ministered by one who wishes for the fletir-de-lis in 
 Spain ; one who is a great adulator of the King, 
 but hates him bitterly. The Devil could not 
 mention names, he said, but they knew the person 
 well. This witch was a famous one named Maria, 
 living in the Calle Mayor ; but he could not give 
 the number of the house or her surname. 
 
 The Grand Inquisitor's secretary wrote in answer 
 to this, thanking him, but regretting that his infor- 
 mation was so limited. The street mentioned as 
 the residence of the first witch, namely, the Calle de 
 Herreros, did not exist in Madrid, and the friend 
 and the master beg the vicar to ask his friend the 
 Devil for more information as to the houses and 
 husbands of both witches, "as to seek a Maria in 
 the High Street of Madrid was like looking for a 
 needle in a haystack." They want also the name 
 
310 THE EXORCISM OF 
 
 of the person who ordered the second charm, and 
 the secretary ends his letter with an astounding 
 invocation of the Devil's aid. He is conjured in 
 the names of God, of His holy Mother, and of St. 
 Simeon of Jerusalem, the King's patron saint, to 
 intercede with God, " who, the lessons tell us, is 
 a relative," to aid in the King's recovery. No reply 
 appears to have been received to this letter, but it 
 was soon followed by another, saying that the friend 
 and the master have administered the charm recom- 
 mended by the Devil, and the King is better ; but 
 they urgently beg for further aid from the same 
 quarter, and more charms if possible. This letter 
 was written on November 5, 1698, and produced 
 two replies from the vicar, who said that he had 
 been conjuring all the afternoon fruitlessly, and at 
 last the Devil burst out in a rage, " Go away ! don't 
 bother me." In fact, it is quite clear at this point 
 that the vicar, having got himself into a perfect net 
 of confusion and contradiction, was getting very 
 frightened indeed ; and his next letter said the 
 Devil was sulky, and would only reply to all his 
 conjurations that he, the Devil, had been telling 
 him a lot of lies and would say no more. All 
 would be known by and by, but not yet. The 
 vicar added to this a remark to the effect that 
 all the King's doctors were false and disloyal, 
 and should be dismissed ; the doctor to be ap- 
 pointed in their place was to be chosen more for 
 his attachment to the old Church than for his 
 medical science, and, in the meanwhile, the King's 
 abode and garments were to be changed and the 
 exorcisms continued. 
 
 The vicar was thereupon again gravely rebuked 
 
CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 311 
 
 for daring to say that the King's physicians are 
 disloyal, but they, the friend and the master, will 
 refrain from employing them. A further letter of 
 November 26th urges the vicar not to stand any 
 more of the Devil's nonsense. Tell him he vmst 
 give the names and addresses, as the friend and the 
 master are put to great trouble seeking them, and 
 he is exhorted to be diligent in completing the good 
 work he has begun, as the King is much better for 
 the exorcisms administered to him. The doctors 
 were, of course, nominees of the new dominant 
 French party, and the friend and master did not 
 like their loyalty to be called into question ; but the 
 vicar was firm, so they were changed, and the poor 
 King was taken on his journey to Toledo and 
 Alcala. He certainly had got much better, and 
 Stanhope ascribes his improvement to the plasters 
 of his new Aragonese doctor, or " rather," he says, 
 "what I believe has done more is that he has of 
 late drunk two or three glasses of pure wine at 
 every meal, whereas he has never taken anything 
 before in all his life but water boiled with a little 
 cinnamon." 
 
 As soon as the King was well enough, the 
 intrigue that had been brewing since the new con- 
 fessor had got a footing was completed, and the 
 third claimant to the succession, the young Prince 
 of Bavaria, was solemnly adopted as heir to the 
 crown. This, of course, offended most of the great 
 Powers of Europe, but it had the effect of recon- 
 ciling with each other the Spanish courtiers who had 
 espoused either the French or the Austrian cause, 
 and for a few months, until the new heir died, the 
 Court quarrels were patched up. Still the inquiries 
 
312 THE EXORCISM OF 
 
 of the Devil went on, and the vicar stumbled and 
 blundered deeper into the mire. He tried to 
 correct his mistake about the street where the first 
 witch lived by saying that the street called Herreros 
 was now the Cerrajeros, and the surname of the 
 witch was Perez, the commonest name in Spain. 
 The secretary wrote to say that the friend and the 
 master could not make head or tail of it all, and 
 begged the Devil to be more explicit — first he said 
 the witch was alive, and then dead. The King 
 was much better. 
 
 By this time, the beginning of the year 1699, 
 the vicar evidently thought that, as he had so far 
 come out of the affair with flying colours, he 
 ought to be brought to the capital and placed on 
 the main road of promotion, instead of being kept 
 in a remote village : and he wrote that the Devil 
 had declared that the whole truth could only be 
 divulged in the church of the Virgin of Atocha 
 in Madrid, and that as he, vicar, had begun it, so 
 he must conduct the affair to the end. A week 
 or two later he wrote, again pressing to be allowed 
 to carry on the rest of the conjuration at the Atocha, 
 in order, as he says, to reanimate the devotion 
 to the image, which he thought was cooling. He 
 gives the name of the second witch as Maria Diez, 
 another extremely common name, and then falls ill, 
 sulks, and refuses to invoke the Devil again except 
 at the Atocha. Still his correspondents continue to 
 press him for fresh signs and information, without re- 
 sult except to produce fresh demands that he should 
 be brought to Madrid. The confederates, however, 
 deemed this too dangerous, and the correspondence 
 with Arglielles closes in the month of May, 1699. 
 
CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 313 
 
 About this time the Queen's suspicions were 
 aroused by a hint dropped by the King, and 
 she at once set spies around those who had 
 access to the monarch's room, particularly Froilan 
 Diaz. She soon learnt something of what was 
 going on, and, as the chronicler says, " roared 
 from very rage." She called her friends together, 
 and in a tearing passion told them what she had 
 discovered, demanding immediate vengeance on 
 the King's confessor. Some of her friends, parti- 
 cularly Folch de Cardona, were cooler-headed than 
 she was, and pointed out that as the Grand Inquisitor 
 was mixed up in the business, it would be imprudent 
 to take any steps until it was seen how far the holy 
 tribunal itself was implicated, and that in any case 
 the Queen's vengeance should be wreaked on 
 Froilan by the action of the Inquisition if possible, 
 so that she might avoid the unpopularity of ap- 
 pearing in the matter herself. 
 
 The next day Folch de Cardona sounded his 
 inquisitor brother, and found that the Council of 
 the Holy Office knew nothing of what was going 
 on, and when the Inquisitor was informed and asked 
 whether the tribunal would consider Froilan guilty if 
 the facts were proved, he cautiously answered his 
 brother that he would not venture of himself to de- 
 cide, but personally he considered so much hobnob- 
 bing with the Devil both delicate and dangerous. In 
 June the Grand Inquisitor Rocaberti died suddenly, 
 probably of poison, and left Froilan to face the matter 
 alone ; and a few days afterwards a report was sent 
 from Germany, having been transmitted to the 
 Emperor by the Bishop of Vienna, containing a 
 declaration, said to have been made by the Devil to 
 
314 THE EXORCISM OF 
 
 an exerciser in the church of St. Sophia, to the 
 effect that Charles II. was bewitched by a certain 
 woman called Isabel living in the Calle de Silva, 
 in Madrid, and that if search were made the in- 
 struments of her incantations would be found 
 beneath the threshold of her house. The Queen 
 thought to prove that this was another of Froilan's 
 tricks, and had the whole matter discussed by the 
 Inquisition, who, however, could find nothing to 
 connect him with it, but proceeded to excavate the 
 spot indicated in the Calle de Silva, and there found 
 sundry dolls and figures dressed in uniforms, which 
 dolls were borne in solemn procession and burnt 
 with all the ceremonies of the Church at the end of 
 July. All this was of course conveyed to the King 
 by Froilan, and it, together with the positive assur- 
 ance that he was bewitched given to him by a 
 German exerciser named Mauro Tenda, who had 
 been secretly summoned to Spain, threw the poor 
 creature into such an agony of terror that his state 
 became more and more pitiable. 
 
 In September a mad woman in a state of frenzy 
 presented herself at the palace and demanded 
 audience. She was refused admittance, and there- 
 upon began to scream and struggle in a way that 
 attracted the attention of the King, who told his 
 attendants to admit her. She burst in foaming 
 and shrieking with a crucifix in her hand, cursing 
 and blaspheming at the poor trembling King, 
 and she had to be borne out again on the 
 shoulders of the guards, the King nearly dying of 
 fright on the spot. The maniac was followed, 
 and it was found that she lived with two other 
 demoniacs, one of whom was under the impres- 
 
CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 315 
 
 sion that they were keeping the King subject in 
 their room. This nonsense was also conveyed to 
 the monarch, who was now thoroughly persuaded 
 that he was under the influence of sorcery, and he 
 ordered that all three of the women should be 
 exorcised by the German monk. This was done, 
 Froilan standing by and dictating the questions that 
 were to be asked of the Devil by the exorciser. 
 Unfortunately for the confessor, the questions he 
 asked were rather leading ones, in which his desire 
 to injure the Queen was evident. " Who was it," 
 he asked, "that had caused the King's malady?" 
 The answer given was that it was a beautiful 
 woman. " Was it the Queen ? " was next de- 
 manded, to which the reply was somewhat con- 
 fusing, as it was merely the name of an unknown 
 man, " Don Juan Palia." " Is he a relative of the 
 Queen ? What countryman is he ? " received no 
 reply ; but when the Devil was asked in what form 
 the charm had been administered he said, "In 
 snuff"." "Any of it left.?" "Yes, in the desk." 
 " What queen was it that caused the malady ? " was 
 again asked. "The dead one," said the Devil. 
 "Is there any other charm.''" "Yes." "Who 
 gave it?" Maria de la Presentacion." "Who 
 ordered it? " " Don Antonio de la Paz." " When 
 was it given ? " No answer. " Of what was it 
 made ? " " Of a dog's bone." " Why did you send 
 the woman to frighten the King ? " No answer. 
 Other questions and answers were given of the 
 same sort, the latter mentioning at random the 
 names of unknown people, and in some cases 
 libelling the Queen and the ministers — all of it 
 obviously the babble of a mad woman. Secret 
 
3i6 THE EXORCISM OF 
 
 though the exorcism was, the Queen had a full 
 report of it, and was of course furious with rage at 
 the open attempt to cast upon her the blame of the 
 witchcraft. 
 
 The first step towards her revenge was to get 
 a new Grand Inquisitor in her interest, and 
 she pressed the King to appoint her friend Folch 
 de Cardona. He refused, no doubt prompted by 
 his confessor Froilan, and, notwithstanding the 
 Queen's passionate protests, appointed a second son 
 of one of the noblest houses in Spain, Cardinal 
 Cordoba, to whom the King unburdened himself 
 completely, and Froilan told the whole story of the 
 exorcism from beo:innin"- to end. From these con- 
 fabulations a most extraordinary resolution was 
 arrived at. Probably the Queen herself was too 
 high game to fly at, so the new Grand Inquisitor 
 and his friends decided that the Devil and the 
 Admiral of Castile, the late Prime Minister, were 
 at the bottom of all the King's trouble, and they 
 ordered the Admiral with his papers to be secretly 
 seized and imprisoned by the Inquisition of Granada, 
 whilst all his household were incarcerated in another 
 prison. They had no doubt, they said, that he 
 would confess all, even if his papers did not incrimi- 
 nate him. No action, however, could be taken until 
 the new Grand Inquisitor's appointment was ratified 
 by the Pope ; but on the very day the bull of ratifi- 
 cation arrived the Cardinal Grand Inquisitor died 
 of poison, and the Queen once again urged her 
 nominee for the place, but without success as before. 
 She then cast about for an ambitious man who was 
 unobjectionable to her opponents, but who might 
 nevertheless be bought over by her. She found 
 
CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 317 
 
 him in the person of Mendoza, Bishop of Segovia, 
 to whom she promised her support and a cardinal's 
 hat if he would serve her. He was appointed 
 Grand Inquisitor, and the Queen had now the whip- 
 hand of her enemy, the confessor. First the 
 German monk was netted, and under torture by 
 the Inquisition made a clean breast of his exorcism 
 in the Calle del Olmo, when Froilan was present. 
 Then a monk of the Atocha, who had been sent by 
 the Provincial to investigate the strange doings of 
 Friar Arguelles at Cangas, produced the letters 
 from the "friend and the master," and told the 
 story of the conjurations. This was quite enough 
 evidence to ruin Froilan, and he was apprehended. 
 He refused to answer any questions, as all he had 
 done had been by the King's own orders, and as 
 the confessor of his Majesty his mouth was closed. 
 He was at once dismissed from his offices, and the 
 Grand Inquisitor appealed to the King to allow all 
 privileges to be waived, and his confessor punished. 
 Poor Charles the Bewitched was dying in good 
 earnest now, and could only mumble out that they 
 might do justice. But Froilan had powerful friends 
 both at Court and in the Council of the Inquisition, 
 and before the blow fell he retired, ostensibly to his 
 monastery, but thence fled to the coast, and so to 
 Rome. But he was not safe even there, for the 
 Grand Inquisitor had him seized for heresy by the 
 Papal officers and brought back to Spain. Then 
 came the long struggle between the Inquisition and 
 its head. First, Froilan's case was submitted to the 
 theological committee of the Holy Office, who unani- 
 mously absolved him. On June 23, 1700, he was 
 fully acquitted by the General Council of the 
 
318 THE EXORCISM OF 
 
 Inquisition, the Grand Inquisitor alone voting for 
 his secret imprisonment without further trial. 
 
 At the next meeting of the full Council, to the 
 intense surprise of the members, a decree for the 
 secret imprisonment of Froilan was placed before 
 them for signature. They unanimously refused to 
 sign it, and came to high words — almost blows — 
 with their chief, who threatened them all with dire 
 consequences for their obstinacy, and, to show that 
 he was in earnest, there and then sent five of them 
 down to their dungeons on his own responsibility. 
 This was too high-handed even for the meekest of 
 the Inquisitors, and the Council broke up in confusion. 
 The Council of Castile, the supreme advisers of the 
 Crown, appealed at once to the King against the 
 imprisonment of the Inquisitors ; but the King was 
 helpless now, for the Queen and a new confessor 
 were at his bedside, bound to stand by the Grand 
 Inquisitor through thick and thin. They got the 
 dying King to sign a decree appointing new 
 Inquisitors enough to swamp the votes of those 
 left, but lo and behold ! they turned against their 
 own creator at the very first meeting, and refused 
 to endorse the Grand Inquisitor's action, either as 
 to the imprisonment of Froilan or that of the 
 Inquisitors. The strong man who led the revolt 
 was Lorenzo Folch de Cardona, the brother of the 
 Queen's old friend, now Bishop of Valencia, and 
 it was decided that he must be silenced somehow. 
 They offered him a bishopric, which he refused. 
 They threatened him with prison and banishment, 
 and he told them that they dared not touch him ; 
 and he was right, for all Madrid was looking on. 
 Then the Inquisitor-General sent the case to be 
 
CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 319 
 
 judged by a provincial council of the Inquisition at 
 Murcia, which was subservient to him, but the 
 General Council at Madrid told them they would 
 be acting illegally if they decided against the 
 verdict already given by the Committee of Theo- 
 logians and the General Council, and even they did 
 not dare to find Froilan guilty. In the meanwhile, 
 guilty or not guilty, the poor man was kept a close 
 prisoner in a dark cell of a monastery of the 
 Dominican Order, to which he belonged. 
 
 In November, 1700, the King died, and the Grand 
 Inquisitor was one of the regents, making himself 
 remarkable for his splendour and ostentation during 
 the short period of uncertainty after the King's 
 death. But the arrival of the French King, Philip 
 v., put an end to the Queen's hopes, and the Grand 
 Inquisitor was sent off in disgrace to his diocese. 
 As soon as his back was turned the General 
 Council of the Inquisition, with Folch de Cardona 
 in the chair, demanded of Prior of the Atocha 
 by what right he still kept Froilan in prison. His 
 answer was that he did so on the warrant of the 
 Grand Inquisitor. An appeal was made to the 
 King, but the fortune of war kept Philip for ever 
 on the move, and for years no decision was given. 
 In the meanwhile the Pope espoused the cause of 
 the Inquisitor-General, and protested against his 
 deprivation. The King appointed a new Inquisitor- 
 General, and the Pope vetoed the appointment. Then 
 the Pope sent special power to the old Grand Inqui- 
 sitor to sentence Froilan to whatever punishment he 
 liked without more ado, and the Council of the Inquisi- 
 tion and Folch de Cardona protested to the King 
 against the attempt of the Pope to override the 
 
320 EXORCISM OF CHARLES THE BEWITCHED. 
 
 law of Spain ; and at last Philip V. put his foot 
 down once for all — dismissed the Inquisitor-General, 
 reappointed the old Council, and authorised them 
 to release Froilan in the King's name. They found 
 him, after five years' close confinement, nearly blind 
 in the dungeons of the monastery of the Atocha, 
 and brought him out in triumph to be appointed 
 Bishop of Avila. In vain the Pope protested and 
 the dismissed Grand Inquisitor fumed. Philip the 
 Magnanimous was a very different monarch from 
 Charles the Bewitched. The black bigotry of the 
 House of Austria was gone, and thenceforward, 
 though the Holy Office existed in the land for a 
 century longer, the arbitrary power of the Inquisition 
 to override the law of the land was gone with it. 
 
A SPRIG OF THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA. 
 
 22 
 
PHILIP IV, OF SPAIN. 
 
 (AfU'v the painting by Vclasqiuz.) 
 
A SPRIG OF THE HOUSE OF 
 AUSTRIA.^ 
 
 No dead and gone human visage looms so clearly 
 through the mist of ages as that strange lymphatic 
 face of Philip IV., which the genius of Velazquez 
 delighted to portray from youth to age. The 
 smooth-faced stripling in hunting dress, with his 
 fair pink and white complexion, his lank yellow 
 hair, and his great mumbling Austrian mouth, 
 shows more plainly on canvas than he could have 
 done whilst alive how weak of will and how 
 potent of passion he was, how easily he would 
 be led by the overbearing Count- Duke of Olivares 
 to sacrifice all else for splendid shows and sensuous 
 indulgence ; how his vanity would be flattered by 
 poets, painters, and players, whilst the world-wide 
 empire of his fathers was crumbling to nothingness 
 " The Gentleman^ Magazine, September, 1892. 
 
324 A SPRIG OF 
 
 beneath his sway, and his vassals were being robbed 
 of their last maravedi to pay for the frenzy of waste 
 and prodigality with which Charles Stuart was 
 entertained or a royal wedding celebrated. Thence- 
 forward, through his fastuous prime, stately and 
 splendid in his black satin and gold, to the time 
 when, old and disappointed, with forty years of 
 disastrous domination, the rheumy eyes drawn and 
 haggard, but the head still erect, haughty and 
 unapproachable in its reserve, the great painter tells 
 the King's story better than any pen could write it. 
 There is something not unlovable in the shy, weak, 
 poetic face, and one can pity the lad with such a 
 countenance who found himself the greatest king 
 on earth at the age of sixteen, surrounded by 
 fawning flatterers and greedy bloodsuckers who 
 plunged him into a vortex of dissipation before his 
 father's body was cold in the marble sarcophagus at 
 the Escurial. The old man's face, too, cold and 
 repellent as it is, shocking as are the ravages that 
 time and self-indulgence have stamped upon it, has 
 yet in it an almost plaintive despair that explains 
 those terrible broken-hearted letters in which the 
 King, icy and undemonstrative as he was, poured 
 out his agony and sorrow undisguised for years to 
 the only person in the wide world he trusted, the 
 nun Maria de Agreda. 
 
 His long reign, which saw the ruin of the 
 Spanish power, witnessed also the most splendid 
 epoch of Spanish art and literature, the golden 
 age of the Spanish stage, and a wasteful prodi- 
 gality of magnificence in the Court such as, with 
 the exception of that displayed by Philip's son- 
 in-law, the Roi-soleil, the world has never seen 
 
THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA. 325 
 
 equalled. The Elizabethan age in England may 
 have approached it in literary strength, although 
 even that cannot show such a galaxy as Lope 
 de Vega, Calderon, Velazquez, Murillo, Tirso de 
 Molina, Moreto, Quevedo, Guevara, Montalvan, 
 and their host of imitators. The history of the 
 reign has never yet been adequately or even fairly 
 written. Isolated portions and detached incidents 
 or personalities have been dealt with, and stray 
 fragments now and again bring vivid pictures of 
 the sumptuous Court before us. Spanish writers, of 
 late years particularly, are fond of dwelling with 
 microscopic minuteness oa the incidents and adven- 
 tures of the time that happened at particular spots 
 in the capital ; but the topographical-historical 
 style, first introduced by Mesonero Romanos, and 
 now so popular, pleasant reading as it is, does not 
 attempt to do more than amuse by presenting 
 romantic and detached pictures of a bygone age, 
 and all that can be claimed by the writers is that 
 materials are gradually being collected and brought 
 to light by them from contemporary sources which 
 will be invaluable to the future serious historian of 
 the reign. 
 
 The British Museum contains many hundreds 
 of unpublished manuscripts bearing upon the sub- 
 ject — copies of official documents, letters, and 
 " relations " from Philip's Court, petitions and 
 statements of grievance addres'sed to the King, 
 and vast collections of miscellaneous papers in 
 Spanish, Portuguese, and French, most of which 
 have not yet been consulted for historical purposes. 
 Amongst a great mass of rather dry official docu- 
 ments of the period, most of them copies, I recently 
 
326 A SPRIG OF 
 
 came across a small, compact group of papers, all 
 originals, telling a curious, plaintive little story, 
 nakedly enough, it is true, but not without a pathos 
 of its own. There is nothing historically important 
 in it, or in the fact that it discloses probably for the 
 first time since it happened, but a quaint side-light 
 is thrown by some of the documents on the way 
 in which Court intrigue was conducted, and also, 
 curiously enough, on the opinion of the highest 
 authorities of those times as to the best way of 
 bringing up a child, by which it will be seen that, 
 allowing for difference of climate and national 
 habits, no great change has taken place in this 
 respect in the two centuries and a half that have 
 passed since the papers were penned. 
 
 Philip had succeeded to the throne on the death 
 of his father in March, 162 1. He was only six- 
 teen, and Olivares at once plunged him into such 
 distractions as the then most dissolute capital in 
 Europe could afford. By a strange coincidence 
 the paper in the Museum (Egerton MSS., 329) 
 which precedes the group of which I wish to speak 
 is a lengthy and solemn letter, dated only a few 
 weeks after the young King's accession, addressed 
 to the Count- Duke by the Archbishop of Granada, 
 remonstrating with the all-powerful favourite for 
 taking the boy-king out in the street at night. 
 " People," he says, "are gossiping about it all over 
 Madrid, and things are being said which add little 
 to the sovereign's credit or dignity." Madrid even 
 now is fond of scandal, but in the beginning of the 
 seventeenth century, isolated from the world as was 
 the capital of the Spains, its one absorbing pursuit 
 from morn till night was tittle-tattle, and the long- 
 
THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA. 327 
 
 raised walk by the side wall of the church of St. 
 Philip, fronting the Ohate palace in the Calle 
 Mayor, was a recognised exchange for the scandal- 
 mongers. The Archbishop says, in his bold and 
 outspoken letter, that not only have these people 
 begun to whisper things that were better unsaid, 
 but the example shown by the King and his 
 minister in scouring the streets in search of adven- 
 ture is a bad one for the people at large, and he 
 reminds Olivares of the anxiety of the late King 
 on this very account, and his dread that his heir was 
 already before his death being inducted into dissipa- 
 tion. The answer to the bold prelate's remonstrance 
 is just such as might be expected from the insolent 
 favourite. He tells him in effect that he is an 
 impertinent meddler, and ought to be ashamed, 
 with his rank, and at his age, to trouble him with 
 the vulgar gossip of the street. The King, he tells 
 him, is sixteen and he (Olivares) is thirty-four, and 
 it is not to be expected that they are to be kept in 
 darkness as to what is done in the world. It is 
 good that the King should see all phases of life, 
 bad as well as good. He (Olivares) never trusts 
 the King with any one else ; and the favourite 
 finishes his answer by a scarcely veiled threat that 
 if the Archbishop does not mind his own business 
 worse may befall him. No doubt the prelate took 
 the warning, for Olivares was not scrupulous, and 
 had a short and secret way with those who incurred 
 his displeasure. 
 
 The small group of original papers coming after 
 this begins with a memorandum unsigned, but 
 evidendy written by Olivares to the King some 
 nine years subsequently, namely, early in the 
 
328 A SPRIG OF 
 
 summer of 1630. It says that it is high time that 
 measures should be taken at once to put a boy, 
 whose name is not given, out of the way, as he 
 is now four years old, and it is of great importance 
 that he should be concealed, and all communication 
 broken off between him and the people with whom 
 he has been. The writer goes on to say that he 
 has considered deeply how this is to be done, and 
 that there are objections to be found in every 
 solution that presents itself, but he thinks on the 
 whole the best way will be to entrust him secretly 
 to the care of a gentleman of his acquaintance 
 named Don Juan Isassi Ydiaquez, who lives at 
 Salamanca. He is a person of education, has 
 travelled all over Europe, and could bring the lad 
 up as his own. It will be necessary to see this 
 gentleman first, and the writer proposes to summon 
 him to Court without telling him the reason, so that 
 " Your Majesty" may see him and then decide for 
 the best. Across this document is written in 
 Philip's uncertain, poetic hand : "It appears very 
 necessary that something should be done in this 
 matter and I approve of what you suggest. — P." 
 
 Presumably Ydiaquez was sent for and approved 
 of, as the next document in the series is of a much 
 more formal character, being a notarial deed drawn 
 up by the Secretary of State, Geronimo de Villa- 
 nueva as prothonotary of the kingdom, who was, 
 with the exception of Olivares, the principal confi- 
 dant of Philip's intrigues.! This deed, dated 
 
 ' He was with difficulty rescued from the direst vengeance 
 of the Inquisition a few years afterwards in consequence of 
 his too ready co-operation in the King's amorous tendencies. 
 Don Geronimo was patron of the convent of San Placido, 
 next door to his own house in the Calle de la Madera in 
 
THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA. 329 
 
 June I, 1 63 1, recites that his Excellency Don 
 Caspar de Guzman, Count of Olivares, Duke of 
 San Lucar, Crand Councillor of the Indies, Coun- 
 cillor of State, and Master of the Horse, delivers 
 
 Madrid, and had inflamed the King's mind with stories of a 
 very beautiful nun who was an inmate of the convent. Phihp 
 ancl his favourite, the Count- Duke, insisted upon seeing this 
 paragon of loveHness, and Don Geronimo, exerting his 
 authority as patron, procured them entrance in disguise to 
 the parlour, where, as was to be expected, his Catholic 
 Majesty fell violently in love with the beautiful nun. The 
 interviews in the parlour were constant but, with the grating 
 between the King and his flame, unsatisfactory, and, by dint 
 of bribes and threats, Don Geronimo managed to break a 
 passage from the cellars of his own house into the vaults of 
 the convent, by means of which, notwithstanding the prayers, 
 the entreaties, ancl appeals of the abbess, the King was intro- 
 duced into the cell of the unfortunate nun of whom he was 
 enamoured. He found her laid out as if she were a corpse, 
 surrounded with lighted tapers, with a great crucifix by her 
 side, but not even this availed, ancl the sacrilegious amours 
 continued so long that the news reached the ever- open ears 
 of the Holy Office. The Grand Inquisitor, a Dominican friar 
 called Antonio de Sotomayor, Archbishop of Damascus, 
 privately took the King to task, and obtained a promise that 
 the offence should cease. Don Geronimo was seized by the 
 officers of the Inquisition (August 30, 1644), and taken to 
 Toledo, where he was accused of sacrilege and other heinous 
 crimes against the faith. The evidence was full and conclu- 
 sive, ancl Don Geronimo's life was trembling in the balance, 
 when the Count- Duke boldly went to the Grand Inquisitor 
 one night with two signed royal decrees in his hands, one 
 giving the Archbishop 12,000 ducats a year for life on 
 condition of his resignation of the Grand Inquisitorship, ancl 
 the other depriving him of all his temporalities, ancl banishing 
 him for ever from all the dominions of his Catholic Majesty. 
 The Grand Inquisitor naturally chose the former, and resigned 
 next morning. Pressure was put on Pope Urban VIII. by 
 the Spanish Ambassador, and very shortly an order arrived 
 from Rome that the whole of the documents and evidence 
 in the case were to be sealed up and sent in a box by a 
 messenger of the Holy Office to his Holiness himself for 
 decision. The messenger chosen was one of the Inquisition 
 notai-ies called Alfonso Paredes. The Count-Duke, under 
 various pretexts, delayed this man's departure for some 
 
330 A SPRIG OF 
 
 a boy named Francisco Fernando, aged over four 
 
 years to Don Juan Isassi Ydiaquez, this boy being 
 
 the person referred to but not named in his 
 
 Majesty's warrant, under his sign manual, addressed 
 
 to Don Juan Isassi, and countersigned and dehvered 
 
 to him by the Secretary of State. The deed directs 
 
 that Don Juan is to bring up the boy and educate 
 
 him in conformity with the instructions to be given 
 
 to him by the Count- Duke, by his Majesty's orders, 
 
 and Don Juan himself undertakes in the deed to 
 
 deliver up the person of the said Don Francisco 
 
 Fernando when required, and to obey impHcidy 
 
 in all things the directions of the Count- Duke with 
 
 regard to him. He promises to bring him up and 
 
 rear him as he is ordered to do in the royal 
 
 warrant. The deed is signed by the Count- Duke, 
 
 weeks, and in the meanwhile had good portraits of him 
 painted and sent by special messengers to all the ports in 
 Italy where he was likely to land, and orders were sent to 
 the Spanish agents to capture him at all risks. On the night 
 of his arrival at Genoa, by the connivance of the authorities, 
 he was seized, gagged, and carried off to Naples, where he 
 was imprisoned for the rest of his life, condemned to per- 
 petual silence on pain of instant death. The box of papers 
 that he bore was sent privately to the King, who, with 
 Olivares, burnt the contents without even opening the packet. 
 The new Grand Inquisitor, who was a creature of the Queen, 
 a Benedictine monk named Diego de Arce, was not to be 
 entirely balked, and although no evidence now existed, he 
 had the prothonotary Don Geronimo Villanueva brought 
 from his prison in Toledo, where he had languished for two 
 years, and placed before the tribunal of the Inquisition. He 
 was stripped oE his arms, accoutrements, insignia of rank and 
 outer clothing, and sat upon a plain low wooden stool, and 
 then, without any evidence being given or statement of 
 specific offence, was condemned for irreligion, sacrilege, 
 superstition, and other enormities, and, by the mercy of the 
 Holy Office, was absolved from all this on condition that he 
 fasted every Friday for a year, never again entered the 
 convent, and gave 2,000 ducats to the poor through the 
 monks of Atocha. 
 
THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA. 331 
 
 Isassi, the King's secretary Carnero, and two 
 servants, and is attested in notarial form by Villa- 
 nueva, as prothonotary of the kingdom. 
 
 Then comes the King's warrant, under PhiHp's 
 own sign manual, in the fine old Spanish form : — 
 
 " The King — Don Juan Isassi Ydiaquez. The 
 Count- Duke will deliver to you a boy in whose 
 education and virtuous bringing up you will serve 
 me well and with absolute secrecy, following therein 
 all the orders given to you by the Count-Duke. 
 I, the King." 
 
 It is clear that this Don Francisco Fernando 
 was no ordinary babe of four to require the personal 
 attention of all these high and mighty gentlemen 
 in sending him to school. Philip had one child 
 by his wife at this time, the chubby youngster Don 
 Baltasar, who for all time will prance on his stout 
 bay cob on the canvas of Velazquez, and only the 
 year previous, in 1629, there had been born to the 
 King, by the beautiful actress, Maria Calderon, the 
 idol of the Spanish stage, a boy who in the fulness 
 of time was to become that second great Don 
 John of Austria, the last virile man of his race ; 
 but Don Francisco Fernando was the first-born, 
 and apparently his mother was of far superior social 
 rank to the jaunty "Calderona," so that he was no 
 doubt, baby as he was, destined for great things. 
 The instructions given by the Count- Duke to Don 
 Juan Isassi with regard to the care of his charge 
 are minute to the last degree, and reflect in every 
 line the great importance that is attached to the 
 identification of the child. The long document 
 begins by saying that the boy delivered to Don 
 Juan is the illegitimate son of the King by the 
 
332 A SPRIG OF 
 
 daughter of a gentleman, and was born in the 
 house of his grandparents, between eleven and 
 twelve at night, on May 15, 1626. Don Francisco 
 Eraso, Count of Humanes, took the midwife, and 
 was present at the birth ; conveying the infant as 
 soon as it was born to the house of Don Baltasar 
 de Alamos y Barrientos, Councillor of the Treasury, 
 where a nurse was awaiting him, and the child 
 had there remained until its delivery to Don Juan. 
 After impressing upon Don Juan the need for the 
 most exquisite care to be taken of the child's life 
 and health, and arranging for the nurses and 
 doctor who have had the care of him to accompany 
 him to Salamanca for the first few months of the 
 change, the Count-Duke instructs Don Juan to 
 seek a good doctor to be kept at hand permanently, 
 who is not to be told who the boy is unless his 
 services are required, and in the meanwhile is 
 to receive a good salary. " His Majesty," says 
 Olivares, "has confided this care to me, and I 
 depend upon you to carry out the task." 
 
 First of all the child was to be well taught in 
 religion and morality ; secondly, on no account was 
 he to learn who he was, and if his attendants have 
 already told him incautiously he is to be allowed 
 to forget it, and "neither by word nor behaviour 
 is he to be made to think that he is not an ordinary 
 person ; " thirdly, he is to be taught polite learning 
 and languages, particularly Italian and French, to 
 dance, fence, and play tennis, and, when he is a 
 litde older, to ride. He is to be treated familiarly 
 and without ceremony, and, " in short, to be 
 educated and brought up with the virtues and 
 nobleness of royalty, and the study, modesty, know- 
 
THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA. 333 
 
 ledge, and temperance of a private person." Don 
 Juan is to send a weekly report to the Count- Duke 
 through his secretary Carreras, but to take care 
 that this is done with the utmost secrecy, and on 
 no account is the child to be shown to any one 
 without a written order. As secrecy is of the 
 first importance 500 (ducats) a month only are 
 ordered to be paid, besides the doctor's fees, and 
 Don Juan is to devise some means for the secret 
 payment of this sum. A coach is to be secretly got 
 ready to meet the Count- Duke and the child on the 
 night and at the place which may be appointed for 
 the delivery ; and then, after another urgent in- 
 junction of secrecy and care of the child's religious 
 instruction, and a fervent prayer that God will give 
 to the little one "all the happiness, spiritual and 
 temporal, which He will see is necessary and good 
 for the realm," the proud favourite signs himself 
 simply Caspar de Guzman. 
 
 The hidalgo of Salamanca appears to have been 
 quite overwhelmed at the honour done him by the 
 charge of so important a person, and his ceremonious 
 and verbose letter of thanks to the Count- Duke 
 needed hardly to be prefaced by the prayer that his 
 patron will not attribute his laconic speech to the 
 proverbial taciturnity of his countrymen, but rather 
 to his confusion at the greatness of the honour done 
 him by his Majesty, for which words are inadequate 
 to express his gratitude. His only thanks can be 
 his faithful fulfilment of orders. He begs that the 
 doctor who has had the care of the little one may 
 be sent to Salamanca with him in order to consult 
 with Don Juan's doctor, and ascertain whether he 
 is fit to undertake so important a charge, and if 
 
334 A SPRIG OF 
 
 not he will approach cautiously a doctor in Vitoria, 
 named Trevifio, of whom he hears good accounts. 
 The woman who accompanies the child shall stay 
 with him some short time, although the good 
 hidalgo is evidently rather doubtful of this arrange- 
 ment, as he adds that if she should find the horizon 
 of their dull country life too confined for her after 
 Madrid, or begins to kick against the discipline, 
 other arrangements will have to be made. All 
 care shall be taken to prevent the boy from learning 
 who he is, and if it should get wind efforts shall be 
 made to silence it, but the task will be a difficult 
 one. The child shall be so reared, please God, 
 that he shall not become abject or servile (which is 
 most important to a royal personage), or licentious 
 and headstrong ; and the good hidalgo thereupon 
 breaks out into a mild pedantic little joke by 
 quoting a Latin proverb, to the effect that, to attain 
 so great an object as this, one must be prepared 
 to eat salt and acrid food, which, he says, will be 
 easy for him to do, "as we all live on salt bacon 
 and hung beef in my province." This does not 
 sound very promising, nor does his description of 
 the water they have to drink, which he says is bad 
 to drink raw, particularly in the summer, and needs 
 cinnamon or other spice to correct it. The doctor, 
 he says, will advise whether they had better boil it 
 with mastic or some other drug. The correspon- 
 dence shall be sent weekly through " my nephew, 
 Don Alonso Ibarra Isassi, the eldest of the lads I 
 took to Madrid with me. He is a good, prudent, 
 and modest lad, and a correspondence between us 
 as uncle and nephew will arouse no suspicion." 
 As for the 500 ducats a month payment, the 
 
THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA, 335 
 
 good hidalgo says his cheeks burn with shame as 
 he writes or even thinks about them ; " but if your 
 Excellency should deign to order them to be paid 
 to me they might be sent without attracting notice 
 through the treasury at Vitoria or Burgos." 
 
 So the little child is sent to Salamanca, and with 
 him goes the ponderously learned Dr. Cristobal 
 Nufiez, who wraps up the simplest facts in the most 
 complicated and pedantic technical phraseology, and, 
 what is far more troublesome for the present pur- 
 pose, writes a shockingly bad hand. His first docu- 
 ment is a microscopic report of the constitution and 
 temperament of the child, and the simple history of 
 his baby ailments. The description is most curious ; 
 and, if any doubt existed as to his paternity, every 
 trait indicates the character and appearance of a son 
 of the sovereign race of Austria. " He is," says the 
 learned doctor, "of melancholic, choleric tempera- 
 ment, wilful and passionate, but playful when he 
 is pleased, and respectful to those he thinks his 
 superiors. He is of sound constitution, being 
 the offspring of young and healthy parents ; pos- 
 sesses superior intelligence for his age ; a wonderful 
 memory, which gives great hope if he be well 
 trained. He is slow of speech, and expresses him- 
 self with great difficulty, stuttering and lisping ; and 
 is so backward on his feet that he has only just 
 learnt to walk. His person is so perfect and beauti- 
 ful, that the mind of a sculptor never imagined any- 
 thing better ; he has a lovely, fair, red and white 
 complexion, and full grey eyes. He is grave and 
 thoughtful — not dull or sad, but full of childish 
 humour ; quick to laugh and quick to cry. He is," 
 says the doctor, "high of spirit, courageous, and 
 
336 A SPRIG OF 
 
 pugnacious, impatient of contradiction ; and, if his 
 speech be not at once understood, he flies into such 
 ungovernable rage as to make it dangerous to thwart 
 him, and he should rather be coaxed to obedience 
 than forced." 
 
 Like all his forbears, he is described as a great 
 eater, and very fond of sweets ; and it is not sur- 
 prising to learn that he has all his short life suffered 
 from over-eating and indigestion, and for long past 
 has had quartan ague. The drastic remedies of the 
 times were endured by the child, the doctor says, 
 "without weeping, as if he knew they were for his 
 good " ; but the learned medico confesses that all his 
 own prescriptions had done the babe less good 
 than what he describes as an old wife's remedy 
 of anointing the stomach and spine with ointment 
 and saffron. 
 
 The child's usual mode of life is carefully des- 
 cribed. Between eight and nine in the morning he 
 had a fowl's liver and a little loaf, or else some 
 bread or cake sopped in broth, or bread and jam 
 and a cup of water. At twelve o'clock broth with 
 sippets of bread or half of the breast of a fowl, or 
 sometimes some forcemeat balls, as he likes a 
 change, and demands it. When he gets tired of 
 this he may have a little loin of mutton or the leg 
 of a fowl. He is also very fond of a piece of bacon 
 between two slices of bread, and of quince marma- 
 lade, jams, and sweets. At five o'clock he "packs 
 his wallet," as the doctor calls it, by a meal of bread 
 and jam, and a cup of water. He is put to bed at 
 nine o'clock, and sleeps with his nurse. The learned 
 Don Cristobal then enters into a most verbose dis- 
 quisition as to the fitness of the locality chosen for 
 
THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA. 337 
 
 the temperament of the child, and arrives at the 
 conclusion that the choice has been a wise one, 
 although the roundabout method of argument 
 founded on wise talk about blood and humours and 
 vapours and the like seems rather beside the mark 
 to a modern reader. The sum of it all is, however, 
 that Don Juan de Isassi's house stands healthily, if 
 somewhat bleakly, on high ground about three bow- 
 shots from the town, and joining the great convent 
 of the Suceso, the house itself being a good one, 
 surrounded by its own grounds. 
 
 Thus far the doctor has only spoken of the con- 
 stitution and past management of his late charge ; 
 but the next document, which bears the same date 
 as the preceding one (June 18, 1630), lays down an 
 elaborate plan for the future rearing of the child. 
 He recommends that he should be allowed to play 
 after his early supper, and not be sent to sleep 
 before nine at night, unless he feels sleepy. He is 
 to be woke at eight, if he is not already awake, and 
 is to be given his light breakfast of a fowl's liver and 
 cake, a rasher of bacon and bread and broth, or a 
 roasted egg. At eleven or twelve he is to dine on 
 forcemeat balls, made of two parts chicken, one part 
 mutton, and one part bacon, with a little pie or 
 broth with sippets. Sometimes, instead of force- 
 meat balls, he may have the leg of a fowl, which, 
 if he likes it, will be enough for him, with a little 
 bread soaked in broth, or he may have a mouthful 
 of mutton with chicken broth. It will be well, says 
 the courtly doctor, that the gentleman himself should 
 be consulted occasionally as to whether he preferred 
 the fowl or the sausages, or roast or boiled food. 
 He is to sleep about an hour and a half after dinner, 
 
 23 
 
338 A SPRIG OF 
 
 and play in the afternoon ; but great care must be 
 taken to keep him out of the sun, and his early 
 supper may be as heretofore, only somewhat later ; 
 a biscuit or two with jam, a small egg, such as the 
 fowls of the province lay, or sippets in broth. A 
 curious and somewhat elaborate little dish is recom- 
 mended for occasional breakfast or supper. "Take," 
 says the doctor, " a half-dozen almonds or melon 
 seeds, and press the juice from them, which mix 
 with a little barley-cream and some good broth. 
 This must be boiled, and sugar and sponge-cake 
 worked into it until it is a smooth paste, which may 
 be served with half a beaten egg over it, and will 
 make a nice light supper." It will be good to 
 excite the appetite by variety, and as the child gets 
 older he may sometimes be given coarser food, and 
 trout or other fresh fish. He must drink fresh 
 spring water boiled with viper-grass, or mixed with 
 cinnamon, according to the weather. He is always 
 to have some fruit for dessert, unless it disagrees with 
 him ; but much care must be taken to guard him 
 from excess ; and he is to be specially sparing in 
 drinking. Full common-sense directions are given 
 with regard to his dress, and if he needs medicine 
 his food must be reduced by one half, and a decoc- 
 tion of mallow and camomile, honey and oil admini- 
 stered. Red Alexandria honey is also recommended, 
 quinces, oil of wormwood, and a variety of other 
 remedies for simple ailments. 
 
 There is yet another document from the doctor 
 giving some further rules, apparently in answer to 
 special questions. In it he again learnedly describes 
 the child's constitution, his weak stomach and apt- 
 ness to catch cold, inherited from his parents, his 
 
THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA. 339 
 
 tendency to hydrocephalus, and his almost con- 
 tinuous series of ailments since he was born, which, 
 says the medico, would have killed him but for his 
 strong constitution. From seven years old he was 
 to eat fish and other Lenten fare, and at twelve years 
 must be taught to fast. Above all, he is not to be 
 brought up delicately or coddled, but encouraged to 
 run and romp. Great care must be taken that he 
 is not exposed to the cold, but he must be well 
 wrapped up even in summer. Drugs are to be 
 given sparingly, if at all : mallow, camomile, sweet 
 almonds, black sugar or honey if wanted ; but he is 
 not to be constantly dosed with red honey and other 
 things as children usually are, and if he is really ill 
 he is not to be lowered or bled much ; by which it 
 will be seen that Dr. Cristobal Nunez, pedantic as 
 he was, differed somewhat from the usual type of 
 sangrados of the time. All this was between the 
 1st and 1 8th of June, 1630, and it is to be supposed 
 that the poor babe of the house of Austria lived his 
 little life in and around the " Casa Solariega " of the 
 Salamancan hidalgo for the next few years, although 
 no record remains of it here. 
 
 The next document of the series is a letter, 
 dated nearly four years afterwards, March 17, 
 1634, from the Secretary of State, Geronimo 
 Villanueva, to Don Juan Isassi Ydiaquez, saying 
 that his Majesty had received with the deepest 
 grief the news of the death of Don Francisco 
 Fernando, who showed such bright promise for 
 his tender years, and his Majesty highly appreci- 
 ates all the care that has been taken of his 
 education. The body is to be brought with the 
 utmost secrecy in a coach to the royal monastery of 
 
340 A SPRIG OF 
 
 St. Lorenzo (the Escurial), where it is to be buried, 
 and advice is to be sent by confidential special 
 messenger to Madrid when the corpse should 
 arrive, in order that one of the King's stewards 
 may be there to receive it. All the other arrange- 
 ments for the burial are made. The four years had 
 apparently not been unprofitable ones to the hidalgo, 
 as the next time his name appears he is a knight of 
 Santiago and lord of the town of Ameyo, as well as 
 of the castles of Isassi and Orbea. The date of the 
 document is April 15, 1634, and again it is a 
 notarial deed attested by the prothonotary of the 
 kingdom, Don Geronimo Villanueva, setting forth 
 that Don Juan Isassi Ydiaquez delivered the body 
 of Don Francisco Fernando, son of his Catholic 
 Majesty Philip IV., whom God had taken to him- 
 self, to the Marquis of Torres, the Bishop of Avila, 
 and other nobles appointed by the King to receive 
 it. The delivery was made in the porch of the 
 cathedral, and we are told that the corpse was 
 dressed in a red gown, bordered with gold, and lay 
 in a coffin of black velvet. The coffin, which had 
 been borne by Don Juan Isassi and his servant to 
 the porch, was thence carried to the great hall of 
 the monastery by certain of the King's gentlemen- 
 in-waiting, and after the religious ceremonies had 
 been performed, was taken to the vault by the 
 monks of the Order and laid to rest. And so ended 
 a little life which, like that of his half-brother 
 Baltasar, if it had been spared, might have stayed 
 the decay of the Spanish branch of the House of 
 Austria. It is true that Don John of Austria sur- 
 vived, and for a short time snatched his poor 
 brother, Charles the Bewitched, from the clutches of 
 
THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA. 341 
 
 his foolish mother and her low-born favourite, Valen- 
 zuela, but who knows whether the strong, masterful 
 spirit of the baby of four whom it was dangerous to 
 thwart might not, if he had grown to manhood, 
 have done more than his younger brother to keep 
 the reins of power when once he grasped them. 
 Poor trembling, white-faced Charles the Bewitched, 
 with his leaden eyes and monstrous projecting jaw, 
 a senile dodderer at thirty, wanted a strong, master- 
 ful spirit like this to hold him up and shield him 
 from the vultures that fought over the carcase 
 before the poor creature wag dead. 
 
 But it was not to be, and the forgotten babe 
 of the sovereign house was put with so many 
 other princely corpses in that horrible " rotting 
 place of princes," off the black marble stair 
 of the regal pantheon of the Escurial, where, 
 not so very many years ago, I saw a ghastly 
 heap of princely and semi-princely skulls and leg- 
 bones gathered up as they had fallen from the 
 rotting coffins to the floor. There, all undistin- 
 guished from the others, probably enough rests still, 
 his very name never published, and his short exis- 
 tence hardly known till now, Don Francis Ferdinand 
 of Austria, one of the last male members of the 
 Spanish branch of the sovereign house, which in 
 four generations descended from the highest pinnacle 
 of human greatness to contempt, disgrace, decrepi- 
 tude and decay. 
 
THE JOURNAL OF RICHARD BE RE. 
 
THE JOURNAL OF RICHARD BERE.^ 
 
 In the course of a recent search amongst the Sloane 
 MSS. at the British Museum for a document of 
 an entirely different character I chanced upon a 
 manuscript which, so far as I have been able to 
 discover, has never yet been described in print or 
 received the attention it appears to deserve. It is 
 a long, narrow book like an account book, in the 
 Sloane binding, containing 244 pages of cramped 
 and crowded little writing in faded ink on rough 
 paper, recording the daily — almost hourly — move- 
 ments of a man for eleven years, from the ist of 
 January, 1692-3, to the middle of April, 1704. It 
 is written in Spanish — Englishman's Spanish, full of 
 solecisms and English idioms, but fair and fluent 
 Castilian for all that, and the diarist, thinking no 
 doubt his secrets were safe in a language compara- 
 tively little known at the time, has set down for his 
 own satisfaction alone, and often in words that no 
 amount of editing would render fit for publication, 
 the daily life of one of the dissolute men about 
 town, who roistered and ruffled in the coffee-houses 
 and taverns of London at the end of the seventeenth 
 century. Few men could hope to possess the keen 
 
 ^ The Gentleman's Magazine, November, 1891. 
 345 
 
346 THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 observation and diverting style of Samuel Pepys, or 
 the sober judgment and foresight of stately John 
 Evelyn, and this last contemporary diarist of theirs 
 certainly cannot lay claim to any such qualities. 
 He rarely records an impression or an opinion, and 
 as a rule confines himself to a bald statement of his 
 own movements and the people he meets day by 
 day ; but still, even such as it is, the diary is full of 
 quaint and curious suggestions of the intimate life 
 of a London widely different from ours. The 
 familiar names of the streets, nay, the very signs 
 of the taverns, are the same now as then, but in 
 every line of the fading brown ink may be gathered 
 hints of the vast chasm that separates the busy 
 crowded life of to-day from the loitering delibera- 
 tion with which these beaux in swords and high- 
 piled periwigs sauntered through their tavern- 
 haunting existence. It strikes the imagination, 
 too, to think that the man who thus sets down 
 so coarsely and frankly the acts of his life must 
 have listened, with however little appreciation, to 
 the luminous talk of wondrous John Dryden at 
 Will's coffee-house, most certainly knew the rising 
 Mr. Addison, and probably met Matthew Prior at 
 his old home at the "Rummer" tavern, which the 
 diarist frequented. 
 
 There is nothing in the manuscript directly to 
 identify the writer, and probably the indirect clues 
 furnished by references to his relatives have never 
 before been followed up to prove exactly who the 
 author was. The task has not been an easy one, 
 and has started me on more than one false scent 
 ending in a check, but at last I stumbled on 
 evidence that not only absolutely identified the 
 
RICHARD BERE. 347 
 
 diarist, but also explained many obscure passages 
 in the manuscript. 
 
 From the first page to the last the writer refers 
 to Danes Court, near Deal, as the home of his 
 brother, and he himself passes the intervals of his 
 dissolute life in London in visits to his Kentish 
 kinsman. Now Danes Court had been for cen- 
 turies in the possession of the ancient family of 
 Fogge, and I at once concluded that the writer 
 of my diary was a younger member of the house. 
 Indeed, encouraged therein by Hasted, the great 
 authority on Kentish history, I went so far as to 
 establish to my own entire satisfaction that the 
 diarist was a certain Captain Christopher Fogge, 
 R.N., who died in 1708, and was buried in 
 Rochester Cathedral, and I was confirmed in this 
 belief by the fact that the wind and weather of each 
 day is carefully recorded as in a sailor's log-book. 
 But somehow it did not fit in. Constant reference 
 is made to a brother Francis, and no amount of 
 patient investigation in county genealogies and 
 baptismal certificates could unearth any one named 
 Francis Fogge. So I had to hark back and try 
 another clue. Brother Francis was evidently a 
 clergyman and a graduate of King's College, 
 Cambridge, and towards the end of the diary 
 the author visits him at the village of Prescot, near 
 Liverpool. 
 
 Sure enough the rich living of Prescot was in the 
 gift of King's College, Cambridge, and further 
 inquiry soon showed that a certain Francis Bere, 
 M.A., was rector from 1700 until his death in 1722. 
 This of itself was not much, but it led to further 
 clues which proved the monumental Hasted ("His- 
 
348 THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 tory of Kent ") to be hopelessly wrong about the 
 Fogge pedigree and the ownership of Danes Court 
 at the time, and the whole question was settled 
 more completely than I could have hoped by the 
 discovery, in the " Transactions of the Kent 
 Archaeological Society for 1863," of a copy of the 
 copious memoranda in the old family Bible, written 
 by the stout cavalier, Richard Fogge, and his son 
 John, with the notes attached thereto by Warren, 
 the Kentish antiquary in 171 1, in which the family 
 history is made clear. This was good as far as it 
 went, and proved the surname and parentage of the 
 author of the diary, but did not identify him per- 
 sonally. Certain references in the manuscript, 
 however, sent me searching amongst the Treasury 
 Papers in the Record Office, and there I found a set 
 of papers written in the same cramped, finnicking 
 hand as the diary, which set my mind at rest, and 
 proved beyond doubt or question who was the 
 methodical rake that indiscreetly confided the secret 
 of his "goings on" to the incomplete oblivion of 
 the Spanish tongue. 
 
 The writer of the diary was one Richard 
 Bere, whose father was rector of Ickenham, near 
 Uxbridge, and who was born at Cowley, near 
 there, on the 28th of August, 1653. His sister 
 Elizabeth had married in 1679 John Fogge, 
 who subsequently succeeded to the Danes Court 
 Estate, and, on the fly-leaf of the Fogge family 
 Bible referred to, John Fogge, who was evidently 
 proud of the connection, sets forth that his wife's 
 grandfather had been " Receiver General of ye 
 Low Countries ; her uncles, one of them was in a 
 noble imploy in ye C Clarke's office, ye other being 
 
RICHARD BERE. 349 
 
 one of ye clarkes of ye signet to King Charles 
 II., a man acquainted with all Xtian languages. 
 Ye other now alive is rector of Bendropp in 
 Gloucestershire, who has an Estate. Her mother 
 was one of ye family of Bland, of London, eminent 
 merchants at Home and Abroad." Richard Bere 
 was born only a year after his sister, so that the 
 statement as to her relatives will hold good for him 
 also. He had been Collector of Customs at Carlisle, 
 but apparently had allowed his Jacobite leanings to 
 be too evident, and . had been dismissed from his 
 office a short time before he began the diary, 
 leaving his accounts at Carlisle still unbalanced and 
 in arrear. How he learnt Spanish I do not know, 
 but he had evidently been in Spain before his 
 appointment to Carlisle, probably in the navy, or 
 in some way connected with shipping, as, in addi- 
 tion to the careful noting of the wind and weather 
 all through the diary, he shows great interest in the 
 naval events of his time. His uncle's remarkable 
 proficiency in "all Xtian tongues" may also per- 
 haps partly explain his own knowledge of the 
 Spanish language. His family in old times had 
 been a wealthy and powerful one, seated at 
 Gravesend, Dartford, and Greenhithe in Kent, 
 but had lost its county importance long before the 
 date of the diary. The widow of one of his uncles, 
 however, still lived at Gravesend at the time he 
 wrote, and one of his father's sisters, who had 
 married a man named Childs, also lived in the 
 neighbourhood, and on her husband's death went 
 to live with her niece at Danes Court. 
 
 The diary commences on the ist of January, 
 1692-3, when Bere was living at Mr. Downe's in 
 
350 THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 London, but the detailed entries begin on the 9th 
 of the month, when he went by tilboat from 
 Billingsgate to Gravesend. Here, after visiting 
 his aunt Bere and his kinsman Childs at Northfleet, 
 he slept at the inn, and started the next morning in 
 a coach to Canterbury. The next day he continued 
 his journey to Danes Court on a hired mare, and 
 then after a few days' rest, "without seeing any- 
 body," begins a round of visits and carouses with 
 the neighbouring gentry. All the squires and their 
 families for miles round march through the pages 
 of the diary. Mr. Paramour, of Stratenborough ; 
 Mr. Boys, of Betshanger, "my uncle Boys," who 
 was probably Christopher Boys, of Updowne, uncle 
 by marriage to John Fogge ; " my uncle Pewry," 
 who was rector of Knowlton, but whose relationship 
 with the diarist is not clearly discoverable ; Mr. 
 Burville, rector of the Fogge Church of Tilmanston, 
 and a host of other neighbours come and go, dine 
 and drink, often staying the night, and in a day or 
 two entertain John Fogge and his brother-in-law in 
 return. The latter records the fact, but unfortu- 
 nately does no more, and little is gathered of the 
 manner of their lives at this period of the diary, 
 except that they did a prodigious deal of visiting 
 and dining at each others' houses. One of the most 
 constant visitors to Danes Court is the aged Lady 
 Monins, of Waldershare Park, the widow of the 
 last baronet of the name, and Richard Bere appears 
 to be as often her guest at Waldershare. The 
 round of dining and visiting is broken in upon by 
 a visit on horseback with brother John Fogge to 
 the assizes at Maidstone, where the latter has a 
 lawsuit which he loses, and Richard returns to 
 
RICHARD BERE. 351 
 
 Danes Court alone, leaving his defeated brother 
 at Canterbury. On the 12th of April the diarist 
 records that he first saw the swallows, and on the 
 20th, as instancing the uneventful life in this remote 
 part of the country, it is considered worth while to 
 register the fact that "whilst I was digging in the 
 garden with Carlton a man passed on horseback." 
 A few days afterwards neighbour Carlton's daughter 
 is married, and then "my nephew Richard was first 
 sent to school at Sandwich, Timothy Thomas being 
 master." Richard, the heir of Danes Court, was 
 about twelve years old at the time, and, as we shall 
 see later on, turned out badly and completed the 
 ruin of the fine old family, of which he was the last 
 male representative in the direct line. Timothy 
 Thomas, who was a distinguished scholar and M.A. 
 of Sidney-Sussex College, Cambridge, was head- 
 master of the Sandwich Free School and brother 
 to the rector of St. Paul and St. Mary, Sandwich. 
 He seems to have been always ready for a carouse 
 at the hostelry of the " Three Kings " at Sandwich 
 or elsewhere with the father or uncle of his pupil. 
 
 On the 28th of April " the fleet entered the 
 Downs, the wind blowinsf a orale at the time. A 
 ship called the Windsor was lost. I went to Deal 
 to see the ships, and saw five ensigns." Small 
 details of ablutions — rare enough they seen nowa- 
 days — bed-warming, and quaint remedies for trifling 
 ailments sound queerly enough to us coming faintly 
 across the gloom of two centuries, but in the midst 
 of the chronicles of this small beer of visits paid 
 and received, of the stomach-ache, and so on, brother 
 John receives a writ, and we feel that we are 
 witnesses of the process by which all this feasting 
 
352 THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 and revelry is completing the ruin of the ancient 
 family that once owned broad lands and fat manors 
 all over Kent, which founded hospitals and colleges, 
 and was closely allied to the regal Plantagenets, but 
 whose possessions had even now shrunken to one 
 poor mansion house of Danes Court and the few 
 farms around it. John Fogge's father, Richard, 
 whose pompous Latin epitaph is still in Tilmanston 
 Church, written by his eldest son, Edward, and 
 scoffed at in the family Bible by the degenerate 
 John, had been true to the King's side during the 
 civil war. His near neighbour, Sir John Boys of 
 Betshanger, had hunted and harried the cavalier 
 and sacked his house after the mad Kentish rising 
 in 1648, and had frightened his favourite child to 
 death, and for the whole of the Commonwealth 
 period poor Richard had been plundered and well- 
 nigh ruined. His sons Edward and John had been 
 captured at sea by the Dutch, and Christopher had 
 been taken prisoner by the Turks, and all three 
 had had to be bought off with ransom. Stout old 
 Richard Fogge therefore had left Danes Court 
 sadly embarrassed at his death in 1680. His eldest 
 son, Edward, died soon after, and John Fogge, the 
 brother-in-law of our diarist, was rapidly continuing 
 the ruin at the date of the diary. By the 30th of 
 May Richard Bere had had enough of Danes Court, 
 and started to Canterbury " with my brother's horse 
 and servant, and so to Northfleet, where I visited 
 my kinsman Childs." He mounted his horse at 
 five o'clock in the morning and arrived at North- 
 fleet at five in the evening, staying on the way only 
 a short time at Canterbury to rest and drink with 
 friend Best, at whose house he always alights when 
 
RICHARD BERE. 353 
 
 he passes through the ancient city. The distance 
 by road is a good fifty-five miles, so Richard no 
 doubt thought he had earned his night's rest at 
 Uncle Childs' before starting, as he did next day, 
 by tilboat to London. The first thing he did when 
 he arrived was to "drink with Higgs" and send 
 for Benson to meet him at Phillips' mug-house. 
 Benson appears to have been a humble friend or 
 foster-brother, as Bere calls Benson's father "my 
 father Benson," who went on all his errands, 
 pawned his valuables, and faced his creditors. 
 When Benson came they started out together and 
 took a room, where they both slept, " at the sign 
 of the ' Crown,' an inn in Holborne," and the record 
 thereafter for some time consists mainly of such 
 entries as " Dined with Sindry at the ' Crown,' and 
 drank with him all the afternoon and evening at 
 Phillips'. Slept at Mrs. Ward's;" "Dined with 
 Dr. Stockton, Haddock, and Simpson at the 
 'Pindar of Wakefield';" "Dined at the sign of 
 the 'Castle,' a tavern in Wood Street, with many 
 friends from the North ; drank there all the after- 
 noon, and all night drinking with usual friends at 
 Phillips'," only that these daily entries usually wind 
 up with the record of a debauch which need not be 
 described, but which Richard does not hesitate to 
 set down in such cold blood as his orgie has left 
 him. 
 
 He appears to have had as a friend one West- 
 macott, who was a prison official, and a standing 
 amusement was apparently to go and see the 
 prisoners, who sometimes fall foul of Westmacott 
 and his friend and abuse them. Richard also has 
 a quaint way of drawing a miniature gallows in 
 
 24 
 
354 THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 the margin of his manuscript on the days that he 
 records the execution of malefactors. On the 15 th 
 of June, for instance, after giving his usual list of 
 friends and taverns, he writes : " Seven men hanged 
 to-day ; fine and warm. Drinking at Phillips' at 
 night ; Westmacott there again." A day or two 
 afterwards the bailiffs walk in during his dinner at 
 the tavern and hale his boon companion, Pearce, 
 off to jail ; but Richard thinks little of it, for he 
 goes off to drink straightway with Colonel Legge, 
 and then passes a merry evening with Dr. Stockton 
 and Mr. Rolfe at the sign of the " Ship," near 
 Charing Cross. 
 
 On the 29th of June "a new sword-belt, some 
 woollen hose, and a rosette for my hat," were 
 bought ; and soon after he leaves his lodgings at 
 Mrs. Ward's, and thenceforward seems to sleep in 
 taverns or inns for some time, very often winding 
 up the entries in the diary by confessing that he 
 was "drunk" or "very drunk." 
 
 On the i8th of July, 1693, he visits "the house of 
 the Princess of Denmark with Mr. Wooton," and 
 thence goes to see a fashionable friend of his called 
 Captain Orfeur, who had a fine house at Spring 
 Gardens, where he meets his brother, and they all 
 make a night of it at the "Ship." By the beginning 
 of August it is not surprising that he is ill, and 
 decides to visit his brother Francis in the country. 
 On the 3rd he takes horse to Biggleswade and 
 thence to Oundle, " where I met my brother and 
 Mr. Rosewell " (he was a fellow of " King's," and 
 apparently a great friend of Francis Bere's). 
 " Dined at Caldwell's, and slept at the sign of the 
 ' Dog.' " 
 
RICHARD BERE. 355 
 
 He stays at the " Dog " at Oundle for some days, 
 still ill, and visits Northampton, where he is struck 
 with the curious church, town - hall, prison, and 
 courts of justice, and slept at the " George." From 
 there he rides to the " Angel " at Wellingboro', and 
 so home to London by Dunstable, where he stays 
 at the " Saracen's Head," Watford, Rickmansworth, 
 and Oxbridge, where he puts up at the " Swan." 
 Being now well again, he recommences the old 
 round of the " Horns," the " Red Cow," the 
 " Mermaid," the "Crown," and so on, usually wind- 
 ing up with a roaring carouse at Phillips', and 
 occasionally relieved by trips to Islington- wells to 
 walk in the fields with friend Stourton, who lives 
 near there, and who later on becomes his in- 
 separable companion. To illustrate the methodical 
 character of this roistering blade, it is curious to 
 note that, as he could not well carry his cumbrous 
 diary with him on his journey to Oundle, he has 
 made his daily entries on a small loose leaf and has 
 afterwards carefully transcribed them in the book, 
 the loose leaf, however, being also bound up with 
 the rest. On the reverse side, in English, Richard 
 has copied the following couplet of Lord Thomond's, 
 which seems to have struck him : — 
 
 " Whatever Traveller doth wicked ways intend, 
 The Devill entertains him at his journey's end," 
 
 and to this he adds several little remedies which 
 some travelling companion seems to have told him 
 on the road. He scrupulously records the fact that 
 the day is his birthday on each succeeding 28th of 
 August, and the occasion appears to be an excuse 
 
3S6 THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 for a burst of deeper drinking than ever, but on this 
 first birthday mentioned in the diary, 1693, he is 
 evidently getting hard up. He lodges with a man 
 named Nelson, who ceaselessly duns him for his 
 rent, and we soon learn that the faithful Benson 
 has pawned his two rings for eighteen shillings. 
 On the 27th of September his friend Dr. Stockton 
 tells him "that Mr. Addison told him that I lost 
 my place because I was against the Government, 
 and was foolish enough to talk about it, which," 
 says indignant Richard, " is a lie." 
 
 It sounds curious nowadays to read that he and 
 his friends, Westmacott and others, sometimes walk 
 out in the fields to shoot with bows and arrows, and 
 usually return thence to the " Hole-in-the-Wall " to 
 pass the evening. 
 
 As a specimen of the entries at this period, I 
 transcribe that for the 30th of September, 1693, at 
 least so much of it as can well be published. 
 " With Metham and Stourton to the City, and 
 dined at the ' Ship ' in Birchin Lane. Vickers 
 there, and we went together to the Exchange and 
 met Mr. Howard ; with him to the ' Fountain,' Mr. 
 Coxum there. At five o'clock went to Sir James 
 Edwards', and drank there two flasks of wine. 
 Then to the ' King's Head,' where I left them and 
 went to Mr. Pearce's house and received ten pounds. 
 Found Stourton very drunk. Went and paid Jack- 
 son and Squires. Slept at Pearce's — -drunk myself" 
 
 With the ten pounds received from Mr. Pearce 
 Richard seems to have set about renewing his 
 wardrobe, and duly records the days upon which 
 his various new garments are worn. On the 26th 
 of October "Aspin, the tailor, brought my new 
 
RICHARD BERE. 357 
 
 white breeches in the morning, and we went out 
 to drink at the ' Bull's Head' in Mart Lane." On 
 the second of November he recites the names of 
 six taverns at which he drank during the day, 
 namely, the " Bull's Head," the " Red Cow," the 
 " Ship," the " Horns," the " Cheshire Cheese," and 
 the " Crown," and on the 7th of the same month a 
 dreadful thing happens to him. The constables 
 walk off his dulcinea. Miss Nichols, to jail, and 
 Richard is left to seek such consolation as he can 
 find at the "Chequers," the "Three Cranes," and 
 the " Sugar Loaf" The next day he seeks out his 
 friend Westmacott at the " King's Head," and is 
 taken to the prison to see the incarcerated fair one. 
 Whilst there he "meets the man who has done the 
 mischief" But he winds up at the " Sugar Loaf" 
 in Whitefriars, and Phillips' mug-house, and is 
 carried home thence in a coach too much over- 
 come by his grief and potations to walk. On the 
 14th, after several more visits to the prison, he 
 bewails that he can do nothing for Nichols, and on 
 visiting a Mrs. Hill, that kind matron tells him that 
 his great friend, Dr. Stockton, had told her that " I 
 had squandered all I had over a worthless wench, 
 and thought now to live at the expense of my 
 friends," but the entry, unfortunately, winds up with 
 the words : " Borrowed two pounds of Simons on 
 my watch." 
 
 After this Richard thinks that quiet Danes 
 Court might suit him for a time, and starts the 
 next day, the 15th of November, as before to 
 Gravesend by the tilboat, and, after a duty visit to 
 his relatives, stays two nights at the sign of the 
 " Flushing," and dines there merrily with "a clergy- 
 
3S8 THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 man named Sell and another good fellow from the 
 North." The same companions and others go with 
 him in the coach to Canterbury, where he stays at 
 the " Fleece," gets gloriously drunk, and is cheated 
 out of half-a-crown, and lies in bed until mid-day 
 next morning, his niece, Jane Fogge, who lived 
 with the Bests at Canterbury, coming to visit him 
 before he was up. In the afternoon he continues 
 his road more soberly to Danes Court on a hired 
 horse, and the old round of visiting and feasting 
 begins afresh. On the first of December he meets 
 Parson Burville, of Tilmanston, and drinks Canary 
 wine till he is drunk. On the 12th Captain 
 Christopher Fogge meets his brother John at a 
 friend's house and they quarrel ; Uncle Childs dies, 
 the cat is drowned in the well, three East Indiamen 
 captains dine at Danes Court, Ruggles' wife is 
 confined, and the daily small events of a remote 
 village happen and are recorded much as they 
 might happen to-day. Uncle Boys had a kinsman, 
 presumably a brother, Captain Boys, R.N., who 
 was Constable of Walmer Castle, where he lived, 
 and Richard and his friends often go there to dine 
 and visit the ships in the Downs. On the 26th of 
 February, 1694, they all go to dinner on board the 
 Cornwall, and " they gave us a salute of seven 
 guns." They all went back to the castle to sleep, 
 and John Fogge made a bargain with his weak- 
 witted younger brother William about Danes Court, 
 presumably with regard to his reversionary interest 
 or charge upon the property. But whatever it was 
 it did not matter much, for William Fogge died 
 soon after. On the 25th of March, after going to 
 Betsanger church and to the rectory to see Thomas 
 
RICHARD BERE. 359 
 
 Boys, " Ruggles threw a poor boy out of the cart 
 and seriously injured him," and on the next day a 
 curt entry says : " The poor lad died at nine o'clock 
 this morning, and was buried in the evening," but 
 not a word about any enquiry or the punishment 
 of the offending Ruggles. 
 
 But after five months Richard sighs again for the 
 taverns of Fleet Street, and on the 4th of April, 
 1694, returns to London by the usual road by 
 Canterbury and Gravesend, and again haunts the 
 taverns and night-houses of the metropolis. He 
 tries hard to borrow money from his friends, and is 
 evidently getting anxious about his Customs accounts 
 left in arrear at Carlisle. He is a pretty constant 
 visitor to Whitehall about a certain petition of his, 
 which petition, although he often mentions it in his 
 diary, he of course does not describe or explain in a 
 document written for his own eye alone. I have, 
 however, been fortunate enough to find the actual 
 document itself in the Treasury Papers at the 
 Record Office, with all the voluminous reports and 
 consultations founded upon it during the seven 
 years it lingered in the Government offices. It 
 appears that in August, 1689, the Earl of Shrews- 
 bury, Secretary of State, had addressed a letter (the 
 original of which is attached to Richard Bere's 
 petition) to the Mayor or Collector of Customs of 
 Carlisle, directing them to provide for the mainten- 
 ance of certain "papist Irish soldier prisoners" who 
 were to be kept in the castle there. The mayor 
 refused to find the money, and Richard Bere, as 
 Collector of Customs, had to do so, expecting to be 
 reimbursed out of the Secret Service Fund, as 
 provided by the Secretary of State. The prisoners 
 
36o THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 were kept at Carlisle until December, 1690, and 
 Richard spent ^74 4s. on their maintenance. He 
 was soon after suddenly dismissed from his post, 
 and was unable to balance his accounts for want of 
 this money, and shortly before beginning the diary 
 had presented his petition to the Lords of the 
 Treasury for the reimbursement of the sum, or at 
 least that it should be handed to the Receiver- 
 General of Customs on his account. But whilst 
 the petition was lying in the pigeon-holes in one 
 office, another office was only conscious that 
 Richard was behindhand in his accounts, and on 
 the 1 1 th of May, 1 694, there is an entry as follows 
 in the diary : " Alone to dine at the ' Spotted Bull.' 
 Then to Phillips', where one Petitt told me about 
 the tolls of Carlisle, and said that the bailiffs from 
 Appleby had a warrant to arrest me." Richard did 
 not wait long for the bailiffs, and in less than a 
 week had signed and sealed a bond, apparently for 
 borrowed money to settle his toll accounts, bought 
 a horse and a Bible, had gone to Westminster Hall 
 " about his brother's affairs," and started off for 
 Carlisle. He rode through Oundle, where the Rev. 
 Francis Bere appeared still to be living, and so by 
 Stamford, Grantham, Newark, Doncaster, Ferry- 
 bridge, and Appleby to Carlisle. Two days before 
 he arrived at the city some choice spirits came out 
 to meet him, and a host of friends received him 
 with open arms after his ten days' ride. He dines 
 fourteen times with Dick Jackson, drinks often and 
 deeply with the Mayor of Carlisle, collects money 
 owing to him, buys a fine new periwig of Ned 
 Haines, and a new sword, settles up his accounts 
 of tolls, and begs a holiday for the schoolboys, 
 
RICHARD BERE. 361 
 
 whom he treats all round, and winds up in a burst 
 of jubilation by receiving a present of two kegs of 
 brandy from his friend Bell, which had not paid 
 much to the King probably, and of which, no doubt, 
 the late Collector and his jovial companions gave a 
 very good account. And then, after a six weeks' 
 stay at Carlisle, he wends his way back to London 
 again by the same road, his horse falling lame at 
 Stamford, and the rider having to post from Gran- 
 tham to Ware, and thence to London by coach. 
 He alights at the " Bell," in Bishopsgate Street, 
 where Benson soon seeks him with fresh clothes 
 and a sedan chair, and takes him to his old quarter 
 of London again. 
 
 But poor Richard's prosperity is of short duration. 
 The borrowed money soon comes to an end, with 
 the able and constant assistance of a certain Catherine 
 Wilson, who has now supplanted the vanished 
 Nichols, and by the beginning of September, 1694, 
 Benson is taking one article after the other to the 
 pawnshop, and bringing back sums which Richard 
 regards as very unsatisfactory in amount. On the 
 6th of that month he attends what must have been 
 rather a curious marriage at the church of St. 
 George's, Bloomsbury, where one of Catherine 
 Wilson's companions, named Early, was married 
 " to a young man named James Carlile, between 
 nine and ten in the morning." The whole of the 
 party adjourn to the fields, and at one o'clock return 
 to drink at the "Feathers" in Holborn, "but the 
 knavish constables disturbed us and we went to 
 Whitefriars ; at two I went to seek Benson, but he 
 could only bring me 5s. on my pistols." With this 
 sum Richard finds his way back to Whitefriars, where 
 
362 THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 he remained drinking till evening with the "newly 
 married pair, Catherine Wilson, a gentleman and 
 his wife, and a marine." He then attends a coffee- 
 house, and winds up with a carouse at the " Rising 
 Sun." The unfortunate bridegroom soon disappears 
 from the diary, but the " bride " takes part in the 
 drinking bouts for some time to come. By the 
 middle of October Richard has apparently come to 
 the end of his tether, and, after borrowing a half- 
 crown on his knives, quarrels with and separates for 
 a time from Catherine Wilson ; but brother Francis 
 and sister Fogge are appealed to for money, and 
 when it arrives Catherine is to the fore again. A 
 great scheme is hatched about this time with a 
 Captain Sales and Mr. Butler, apparently relating 
 to the tobacco duties, and the Commissioners of 
 Customs and other officials are being constantly 
 petitioned and visited. Sometimes the tobacco 
 business is considered hopeful, and sometimes the 
 contrary, but on the 7th of January, 1695, it looks 
 very bright when the Lords of the Treasury and 
 the Commissioners of Customs sitting together at 
 Whitehall receive Richard and his two friends, who 
 lay the case before them, but " Mr. Culliford spoke 
 against us," and nothing was decided ; so the trio 
 and others who joined them go to the " Rummer" 
 tavern at Charing Cross, and drink confusion to 
 Mr. Culliford. A day or two days after this "a 
 knave came to betray me to the bailiffs," and poor 
 Richard and his friend Sales seek the shady retreat 
 of a tavern in Fulwood's Rents. For the next few 
 days he dodges the bailiffs from tavern to tavern, 
 and sleeps at Bell Court, Whitefriars, and else- 
 where. The "knavish bailiffs even follow friend 
 
RICHARD BERE. 363 
 
 Sales in the hope of tracking Richard. On the 
 14th of January the faithful Benson brings his 
 clothes to the new lodging in Whitefriars, and 
 Richard ventures out " to the ' Anchor ' in Coleman 
 Street, about the business of Andrew Lloyd and 
 the widow. Then the ' St. John the Baptist's 
 Head ' in Milk Street, where I found Butler meet- 
 ing the citizens about the tobacco business." A 
 few days after, the business of " Andrew Lloyd and 
 the widow" is settled somehow at the " Mermaid" 
 in Ram Alley, and on the 26th Benson pawns all 
 Richard's silver for ^5 7s., and Richard slips out of 
 Whitefriars at night, sleeps at the " Star," and 
 escapes to the quiet of Danes Court, where the 
 bailiffs cease from troubling and the spendthrift is 
 at rest. 
 
 On the 2nd of February, 1695, scapegrace little 
 nephew Dick Fogge comes home with a story that 
 the small-pox had appeared at the school at Sand- 
 wich, " but it is all a lie," and the youngster is led 
 back ignominiously the next day by his father and 
 Tim Thomas the schoolmaster, and when John 
 Fogge returns to Danes Court he brings news that 
 the French are capturing English boats in the 
 Channel. Richard is still uneasy in his mind, for 
 on the 1 5th of February he dreams that the bailiffs 
 have caught him at last, and soon afterwards begins 
 seriously to put his Customs accounts in order. 
 Then early in April he starts for London again, but 
 as soon as he was on board the tilboat at Graves- 
 end he caught sight of a bailiff ashore seeking him. 
 It takes four hours to reach London, and the city is 
 in a turmoil, for during the night " the mob knocked 
 down a house in Holborn." He takes a room at 
 
364 THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 the "Green Dragon" for a day or two, and the 
 next night the mob burn down two houses in the 
 Coal Yard, Drury Lane. A false friend named 
 Fowler accompanies him in his search for lodgings, 
 which he eventually takes at the house of a cheese- 
 monger named Tilley in Fetter Lane, and also 
 goes with him to the Custom House "about my 
 accounts," and then on the 13th of April, after 
 carousing with him half the day, " the hound 
 betrayed me to the bailiffs," and poor Richard is 
 caught at last. He is at once haled off to a spung- 
 ing-house, called the " King's Head," in Wood 
 Street, and the first thing the prisoner does is, of 
 course, to send for Benson, who comes with Sales 
 and other friends, and they have a jovial dinner of 
 veal with the keeper. The next day Benson brings 
 some money, and Richard holds a perfect levee of 
 friends. Some of them go off to soften the creditors, 
 in which they fail, and other to apply for a writ of 
 habeas corpus. A good deal of dining goes on at 
 the spunging-house, but on the i6th the carouse is 
 cut short by the removal of Richard to the Fleet. 
 He has a good deal of liberty, however, for he still 
 occasionally haunts the taverns in Fleet Street, 
 probably within the "rules" of the prison or under 
 the ward of a keeper. Brother Francis is appealed to 
 daily by letter, and pending his reply all the old boon 
 companions come in and out of the prison, dine there, 
 drink there, and get drunk in the vaults, Benson and 
 Catherine Wilson coming every day with clothes, 
 books, and comfort. At the end of the month of 
 May the parson brother, Francis, arrives, and after 
 a month of negotiation at the Custom House and 
 the law courts, and much drinking and dining as 
 
RICHARD BERE. 365 
 
 usual, a bond is signed and sealed at the " Three 
 Tuns " tavern, " Sales standing my friend," and 
 Richard Bere is free again. 
 
 But imprudent Richard, after a sharp fit of the 
 gout, soon falls into his old habits again, and on 
 the 6th of September confesses that he got into a 
 row at the "Dog" Tavern in Drury Lane "about 
 drinking the Prince of Wales' health," an indiscreet 
 thing enough considering that his Custom House 
 accounts were still unsettled, and his own petition 
 to the Treasury unanswered. On the ist of July, 
 whilst he and his friend Sales are dining- at the 
 " Crown," the constables walk Sales off to prison, 
 " and then go to the ' Globe ' Tavern and arrest his 
 landlady, and Andrew Lloyd the author." And so 
 the diary goes on ; his accounts still unpaid, but 
 Richard full of the tobacco business, with petitions 
 to the King and interviews with Treasury officials. 
 Then there is some great Irish wool scheme, which 
 necessitates much dancing attendance on the Duke 
 of Ormond, but does not seem to result in much. 
 His boon companions evidently do not think much 
 of his chance of recovering anything from the 
 Treasury, for "they made me promise B. Skynner 
 a new wig if ever I received my £']a^ 4s. on the 
 King's order." 
 
 However much Richard may drink, he is frugal 
 enough in his eating, for from this period to the end 
 of the diary he constantly records that for days 
 together he has eaten nothing but a little bread and 
 cheese, and the " one poor halfpennyworth of bread 
 to all this intolerable amount of sack " is as applic- 
 able to Richard Bere as it was to the fat knight. 
 And he needs to be sparing in his expenditure, for 
 
366 THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 he is poor enough just now, notwithstanding his 
 drinkings with the Duke of Richmond's steward, 
 with Stourton at the " Rose " in Pall Mall, and his 
 visits to Lord James Howard in Oxenden Street, 
 for he is reduced to pawning his new lace ruffles for 
 six shillings, and Benson could borrow nothing on 
 his new wig, for which he had just paid (or not 
 paid) thirty-five shillings to Rolfe, the barber. But 
 Benson pawns his linen for ten shillings and brother 
 Francis sends funds, so after borrowing nine shillings 
 and sixpence on " my Bezoar stone," and going to 
 the Temple to receive "my pension" Richard starts 
 on the I St of September, 1696, by hoy for Sand- 
 wich. The voyage is long and tedious, the weather 
 being bad, but after a day and a night at sea they 
 drop anchor, and Richard solaces himself with punch 
 and good fellowship at the " Three Kings " at 
 Sandwich. 
 
 On his arrival at Danes Court " John gives me a 
 bad account of my nephew Richard, who went back 
 to school to-day." But John certainly does not set 
 his son a good example, for he soon breaks out 
 himself, and on the 21st of October, "after dining 
 with my aunt," threatens to cut his wife's throat. 
 For months after this the diary constantly records 
 that "John came home raving drunk"; "John 
 from Sandwich to-day, very violent " ; " John 
 mad drunk all day " ; "to Tilmaston Church 
 twice, John there raving drunk," and so on. On 
 Christmas Day, 1696, Richard, who as befits a 
 parson's son, is all through an indefatigable church- 
 goer, takes the Sacrament at Tilmanston Church, 
 as he generally does on special days, John through 
 all the Christmastide remaining drunk as usual. On 
 
RICHARD BERE. 367 
 
 the 1 8th of January, 1697, he gives his wife a black 
 eye, and the next day it is Richard's turn, and he 
 goes on a great drinking bout with Captain Whiston, 
 and "got drunk and lost my white mare," where- 
 upon the immaculate " John is very angry with me." 
 On the loth of February nephew Richard runs 
 away from school again, and gets soundly whipped 
 by his father, who remains drunk all the month. 
 On the 15th of March tidings comes to Danes 
 Court that the master has been lodged in Dover 
 jail, and his wife and her brother start off next 
 morning to find him. He has escaped somehow, 
 and gets back to Danes Court mad drunk just as 
 his household are returning from afternoon service 
 at Tilmanston Church. This goes on all March, 
 and on the 26th John borrows money from an 
 attorney named Lynch, and seals a bond at Danes 
 Court conveying all his goods to the lender as 
 security, "being rabid drunk at the time." A few 
 days afterwards " the bailiffs nearly took John, but 
 he escaped by the quickness of his mare." Echoes 
 of more important events occasionally reach Danes 
 Court. On the 6th of April, 1692, news comes that 
 the French have taken Jamaica, and that they have 
 captured a merchant fleet and convoys off Bilbao. 
 Soon after we hear of " French pirates infesting the 
 Downs, and they had taken two of our ships," but 
 the domestic troubles of the old Kentish manor 
 house occupy most of the diary at this period ; 
 incorrigible young Richard runs away from school 
 again and cannot be found for days ; with some 
 difficulty drunken John's accounts with Hill and 
 Dilnot, of Sandwich, are arranged, but on the 24th 
 of April he is lodged in jail at Canterbury on 
 
368 THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 another suit, and is only released by more borrow- 
 ing from Lynch, and at once goes back to his 
 drunken career again. An entry on the 29th of 
 April, 1697, gives another inkling of Richard's 
 Jacobite leanings. " Walking to Eythorne I met 
 Petitt the parson and Captain March. We drank 
 together and went to Walker's, where a Mr. Kelly 
 defended the bad opinion that it was lawful for 
 people to rise against the King if he violated his 
 coronation oath." 
 
 All through May John Fogge continued drunk, 
 and one day falling foul of his brother-in-law, 
 calls him a scurvy knave, and threatens to kick 
 him out of his house. So Richard, having worn 
 out his welcome at Danes Court, starts for town 
 again, taking with him nephew Dick, who has 
 just run away from school once more for the last 
 time. 
 
 He lodges henceforward at Stokes' in Short's 
 Gardens, and pays ten shillings a month for his 
 room. Every morning two or three taverns are 
 visited with Stourton, Churchill, and others, where 
 unfortunately they are sometimes imprudent enough 
 to drink deep to the health of King James. 
 Metheglin and mum are occasional drinks, but 
 brandy the most usual, and black puddings seem 
 a favourite dish for dinner. On the 19th of October, 
 1697, peace is proclaimed with France, and on the 
 1 6th of the following month the King enters the 
 City in state, and on the 2nd of December the peace 
 rejoicings were crowned by a great display of fire- 
 works, and a banquet given by the Earl of Romney 
 to the King. Richard's petition after five years' 
 waiting is favourably reported upon by the Commis- 
 
RICHARD BERE. 369 
 
 sioners of Customs, and during all the winter he 
 haunts Whitehall and the ante-room of Lord 
 Coningsby to get the recommendation carried out 
 by the Treasury. But one obstacle after the other 
 is raised, the papers are sent backwards and for- 
 wards, and it is fully two years longer before 
 Richard at last receives his money. On the 2nd 
 of December, 1697, he records the consecration of 
 St. Paul's, and on the 15th of February, 1698, he 
 attends his first service in the Cathedral, "from 
 thence to the Temple Church, and so to the 
 ' Trumpet,' where I supped on black puddings and 
 cheese. Home at eight, when my landlady besought 
 me to pay the rent." On the i8th of April he sees 
 Prince George, and on the i6th of May visits the 
 ship Providence from New England, and thence to 
 the "Dolphin" tavern until three in the morning. 
 On the 9th of June, apparently fired by the example 
 of some of the wits he meets in the coffee-houses 
 of Covent Garden, or in his favourite promenade at 
 Gray's Inn Gardens, he records the fact that he 
 wrote some satirical verses. The next day a fine 
 new suit of clothes comes home, and he dons them 
 with great pride. But alas ! a sad thing happens. 
 Drinking at the " Sun " with his friends, some of 
 the latter " threw some beer over my fine gar- 
 ments," much to Richard's disgust. The quaint little 
 gallowses on the margin are pretty frequent now, 
 and the names of the wretches who are hanged are 
 often given. On the 29th of June, 1698, Richard 
 visits the Duke of Norfolk at St. James's House 
 with his friends Stourton and Orfeur. " Thence to 
 St. James's Park, to see a race between youths, 
 where I met Churchill." 
 
 25 
 
370 THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 Richard becomes certainly more respectable as 
 he gets older, and beyond a slight flirtation with 
 his landlady, Mrs. Stokes, of Short's Gardens, we 
 hear litde of his gallantries henceforward. He is 
 certainly more prosperous, too, in some mysterious 
 way, owing to a voyage he makes, apparently in 
 an official capacity, from Gosport to Flanders, for 
 which a sum of ninety-fiive guineas is handed to 
 him. He says nothing of his adventures in Flanders, 
 where, however, he only lands at Ostend for a few 
 days from his ship the Good Hope. The voyage, 
 however, is evidently an important one for him, as 
 he has spoken of it on and off for many months, 
 and takes a special journey to Cambridge to see 
 brother Francis before setting out. On the 19th 
 of October, 1698, he anchors in Dover Roads on 
 his return, and goes thence to Danes Court, where 
 he stays over Christmas, and returns to London in 
 January, 1699. His friend Churchill has now taken 
 the Treasury matter in hand, and after many months 
 of hope deferred Richard Bere gets his ^74 4s. at 
 last in October. But Churchill wanted paying, and 
 on the morrow of the payment " Churchill came to 
 me drunk, and quarrelled with me because I would 
 not give him the money he wanted." I suspect the 
 money was all spent long ago, for Richard has often 
 enough gone into the City to borrow five or ten 
 pounds " on the King's order." He is very 
 methodical about money matters, too, for all his 
 apparent improvidence. He has a boon companion 
 named Henry Johnson, who during the autumn 
 and winter of 1699 drank mainly at his expense. 
 Every penny thus spent is noted against the date 
 in the diary, and a neat account of the whole. 
 
RICHARD BERE. 371 
 
 headed "Expenditure on account of Henry John- 
 son," is bound up with the diary. From this it 
 appears that Johnson consumed over seven pounds' 
 worth of brandy at various taverns with Richard in 
 about five months. On the 27th of January, 1700, 
 Richard again visits the Duke of Norfolk ; but it 
 is rather a falhng off to be told that he goes straight 
 from the Duke's to eat black puddings at Smith's. 
 In July of the same year he goes to see a witch 
 called Anna Wilkes, a prisoner in the Marshalsea, 
 and the same day he learns in the Tilt Yard that 
 his boon companion Stourton is made Deputy- 
 Governor of Windsor. On the 30th of July the 
 young Duke of Gloucester dies, and one day next 
 week Richard, after drinking punch with Mr. 
 Van Dyk, tries to see the body of the young 
 prince at the lying-in-state, but fails. His brother 
 Francis is in town about the firstfruits and fees 
 of his new fat living of Prescot, and Richard 
 is his surety for ^48 is. 8d. to the King, and 
 when Francis has got comfortably settled in his 
 new rectory in July, 1701, Richard takes the ship 
 Providence for Liverpool to visit him. They take 
 a fortnight to get there ; and when he arrives 
 a gentleman comes on board and announces 
 that brother Francis has married his (the gentle- 
 man's) sister, whereupon Richard is much surprised, 
 and promptly borrows some money from his new 
 connection. There are high jinks at Prescot, and 
 Richard is in his element. He dines and carouses 
 with everybody, from his brother's glebe-tenants to 
 the Earl of Derby at Knowsley, gets drunk con- 
 stantly, breaks his nose, loses his horse and money, 
 quarrels in his cups with a good many of his friends, 
 
372 THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 toasts King James III., and enjoys himself greatly. 
 It is to be noted that his brother's curate generally 
 shaved him during his stay. On the 13th of June 
 1702, King William's death is recorded-, and soon 
 after the diarist returns to London by road, taking 
 up his quarters at Stokes', Short's Gardens, again. 
 Irl the autumn he goes to Danes Court, where John 
 Fogge is still usually drunk ; and in October of 
 that year a most important thing happens to Richard 
 Bere. On the 23rd of that month he visits the aged 
 Lady Monins at Waldershare, the next mansion to 
 Danes Court. His sister, Mrs. Fogge, is with him ; 
 and staying with Lady Monins is a certain Lucy 
 Boys, presumably a daughter of Captain Boys, the 
 Constable of Walmer Castle. After dinner Richard, 
 who was then forty-nine years of age, whispered 
 soft words of love to this young lady, and the next 
 day he records the fact that he sent her a tender 
 love letter. The maiden, nothing loath, sends him 
 an answer next day, and a few days afterwards 
 comes herself to visit Mrs. Fogge at Danes Court. 
 Of course Richard improves the occasion, and, as 
 he says, "makes love again. For the next week a 
 lively interchange of notes takes place between 
 Danes Court and Waldershare ; and on the 8th of 
 November Lucy Boys thinks it time to go home to 
 Walmer Castle. It is not quite in the direct road, 
 but she called to say good-bye to Mrs. Fogge at 
 Danes Court, and, of course, Mr. Richard Bere 
 thought well to go in the coach with her to Walmer. 
 "We pledged," he says, " to marry each other, and 
 solemnly promised to marry no one else." On the 
 1 6th of December he again goes to Waldershare, 
 and they again renew their pledge, and Lady Monins 
 
RICHARD BERE. 373 
 
 promised all her influence with her grandson-in-law, 
 the great Earl Poulet, to forward Richard's fortunes. 
 Early in January, 1703, Richard speeds to London 
 with a letter from Lucy Boys to Lord Poulet in his 
 pocket. The peer welcomes him warmly, promises 
 him great things at the Treasury and elsewhere, 
 and loving letters still speed backward and forward 
 between London and Walmer. Richard is constant 
 at Lord Poulet's levees, and at last, on the 25th of 
 March, 1703, Richard is introduced to the all-power- 
 ful Lord Godolphin, who promises him a good office, 
 upon strength of which he "borrows another ;^5 
 of Gawler." 
 
 But Richard complains of lameness on the 
 very day that he saw Godolphin, and the next 
 entry in the diary is carefully traced with a 
 trembling hand at the bottom of the page nearly 
 three months afterwards. Richard had fallen ill of 
 gout, fever, and rheumatism, and had not left the 
 room for ten weeks, "attended by Mr. Sheppery of 
 Drury Lane, my surgeon Mr. Williams, and my 
 housekeeper Mrs. Cockman." In July he was well 
 enough to go to Danes Court, and on the iith of 
 August visited Waldershare with his sister. There, 
 walking in the grotto, he again pledged his troth 
 to Lucy Boys. On the 2nd of September Lucy 
 Boys came to dine at Danes Court, and the vows 
 were repeated. On this occasion Miss Boys 
 showed her sincerity by handing to Richard " 95 
 guineas, one pistole, and six shillings in silver," pre- 
 sumably for investment or expenditure on fitting up 
 a home. Soon afterwards Lord Poulet came and 
 took his wife's grandmother away on a visit to 
 Hinton, where she died in six weeks. Richard 
 
374 THE JOURNAL OF 
 
 Bere returns to London a happy man, but in a few 
 weeks his lady love herself comes on a visit to 
 Lord Poulet, and then, on the 20th of November, 
 a great change comes over the tone of the entries. 
 "The strumpet Boys came to London. I saw her 
 at Lord Poulet's and gave her five guineas, besides 
 five guineas I gave her on the 26th to go to the 
 Exchange, five guineas more I paid on her account 
 at Mr. Stow's, and another ten pounds on account 
 of the slut." Another entry on the 30th is still 
 more disheartening. " I went to see the slut Boys 
 at Lord Poulet's, and the baggage denied ever 
 having promised to marry me at all, and now she 
 has gone and married a stuttering parson called 
 Woodward." Then Lord Poulet said he had never 
 promised to do anything for him, and "treated me 
 vilely," and the whole romance was ended. 
 
 At this time there are two entries in English as 
 follows: "November 27, 1703. From 12 o'clock 
 in ye morning till 7 was ye most violent storm of 
 wind y' ever was known in England, and ye damage 
 done at land and sea not to be estimated." 
 
 " On ye 15th, i6th, and 17th of January, 1703-4, 
 was a very violent storm, which forced back ye fleet 
 bound to Lisbon w"' ye Archduke Charles, under 
 Rooke, separating them, and did a great deale of 
 damage." 
 
 In March, 1704, Richard is evidently making 
 great preparations for another sea voyage. He 
 often visits Bear Quay, and is much in the City. 
 Trunks and new clothes seem to be brought now 
 without much difficulty, and Benson's services are 
 not apparently so needful for raising the wind. 
 Richard's friend, old Mrs. Feltham, who keeps a 
 
RICHARD BERE. 375 
 
 shop in the Exchange, invites him to come and 
 see her and drink mum, in order to ask him about 
 making her son purser. Richard seems also to 
 have quite a friendly correspondence with the 
 " stuttering parson Woodward," and one is tempted 
 to believe that Lord Poulet may after all have done 
 something for the jilted lover. Richard's circum- 
 stances must be a good deal changed, for he can 
 afford to leave twenty guineas with T. Bell to keep 
 for him when he departs for Danes Court, after a 
 merry dinner at the " Blue Posts " in the Haymarket 
 (which he quaintly translates as "los Postes ceruleos 
 en la Feria de feno) with Churchill and others. On 
 the 23rd of March, 1704, he starts for Danes Court, 
 and there the usual life of visiting and feasting is 
 recommenced. On the nth of April, 1704, there 
 is an entry to the effect that he went to visit Lady 
 Barret, and wrote to Mr. Woodward, and then the 
 curtain drops and all is darkness, which swallows up 
 Richard Bere and all his friends for ever. Where 
 he went and what became of him I have been 
 unable to discover, and the transient gleam thrown 
 across his trivial history by his own folly, in writing 
 down his most secret actions in a language known 
 to many, will in all probability be the only light ever 
 thrown upon his life. John Fogge died soon after, 
 but his widow, Richard Bere's sister, lived at Danes 
 Court in straitened circumstances for many years 
 after. Warren, the antiquary, writing in 171 1 
 (Fausett MS. Kent Archeeological Society), de- 
 plores that the once fine estate was reduced even 
 then to about fifty pounds a year only, and says that 
 it was uncertain whether any male heir was living — 
 thus soon had scapegrace nephew Dick drifted away 
 
376 THE JOURNAL OF RICHARD BERE. 
 
 from his friends. Warren says that he had been 
 last heard of at Lisbon some years before, but on 
 his mother's death he turned up a common sailor, 
 sold Danes Court to the Harveys in 1724, married 
 a certain Elizabeth Rickasie, a sister of St. Bartholo- 
 mew's Hospital at Sandwich, and died on board the 
 fleet at Gibraltar in 1740, leaving, says Hasted, an 
 only daughter, married to a poor shepherd named 
 Cock, and living in a lowly hovel near the manor 
 house of which her ancestors had for centuries been 
 masters. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 A. 
 
 Acevedo, Diego de, 149, 155. 
 
 Adanero, Count de, 295. 
 
 Addison, Mr., 346, 356. 
 
 Adelphi, the, 264, 288. 
 
 Aguilar, Marquis de, 140, 155. 
 
 Alarcon, Captain, 46, 55, 59. 
 
 Alba, Duchess of, her reception by 
 Queen Mary, 163-4, '^^T< '^7°- 
 
 Alba, Duke of, in Portugal, 13. 
 
 Alba, Duke of, 76 ; sent to crush 
 the Netherlands, 93 ; his seizure 
 of Egmonl, 94 ; his failure, 98 ; 
 renewed severity, 99-104 ; his 
 praise of Romero, 106 ; retires 
 from the Netherlands, 106-7. 
 
 Alba, Duke of, 140, 149, 153, 155. 
 
 Alba, Duke of, urges Philip II. to 
 action against England, 183. 
 
 Alberoni, Cardinal, 255. 
 
 Albert, Archduke, in command 
 at Lisbon, 42, 48, 50-1, 53, 56, 
 63, 67. 
 
 Alburquerque, 3rd Duke of, with 
 Henry VIII. before Boulogne, 
 80. 
 
 Alburquerque, 4th Duke of, 93. 
 
 Alburquerque, Matias de, com- 
 mands the galleys in the Tagus, 
 
 50- 
 Alencastro, Luis, Don, Grand 
 
 Master of the Order of Christ, 46. 
 Aljubarrota, Portuguese victory 
 
 over Castile, 218. 
 Allen, Father, 191, 193, 197, 198, 
 
 201. 
 Alonso the Wise of Castile, his 
 
 decree against extravagance in 
 attire and food, 212-13. 
 
 Alonso XI. of Castile, decrees 
 against extravagance, 213. 
 
 Altamira, Count de, raises an army 
 to reheve Corunna, 38. 
 
 Alvaro, Souza, Portuguese captain, 
 65-6. 
 
 Alvelade, near Lisbon, 56-7. 
 
 Andrada, Count de, attempts to 
 relieve Corunna, 37, 39. 
 
 Antonio, Dom, the Portuguese 
 Pretender, 13 ; flies to England, 
 14 ; his treatment by Elizabeth, 
 14 ; fliies to France, 15-16 ; 
 attacks the Azores, 16 ; again 
 appeals to Elizabeth, 17 ; his 
 concessions to Elizabeth, 18-23 > 
 accompanies the expedition, 
 29 ; lands at Peniche, 43-5 ; 
 arrives at Torres Vedras, 55 ; 
 at the gates of Lisbon, 56-9, 64, 
 
 67 ; leaves with the English, 64, 
 
 68 ; returns to England, 71-2. 
 Antwerp, sack of, in the Spanish 
 
 Fury, 117-20. 
 Araujo, Captain, surrenders 
 
 Peniche, 42. 
 Argiielles, Father, an exorciser, 
 
 303 ; his communications with 
 
 the devil, 304, passim. 
 Armada, defeat of, 3-5 ; cause of 
 
 its defeat, 3-4 ; the disaster to 
 
 foretold by Mendoza, 200. 
 Arundel, Earl of, 149, 153, 154, 
 
 155, 162. 
 Arundel, Earl of, at Durham Place, 
 
 269. 
 
 377 
 
378 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Arundell's rising suppressed by the 
 aid of Spanish mercenaries, 77. 
 
 Astorga, Phihp II. at, 142. 
 
 Austria, decline of the house of, in 
 Spain, 340-1. 
 
 Authorities with regard to the 
 wedding of Philip and Mary, 
 
 125-7. 131-6- 
 
 Azores, attacks upon, in the 
 
 interest of Dom Antonio, 14- 
 
 16 ; to be attaclced by the 
 
 English expedition, 22, 71 ; 
 plan abandoned, 71, 72. 
 
 B. 
 
 Bacon, Lady, 284. 
 
 Baden, iNIargrave of, imprisoned 
 
 for debt at Rochester, 284. 
 Baoardo, the Venetian, his account 
 
 of the marriage of Philip and 
 
 Mary, 126-7. 
 Barlemont, Count, to betray 
 
 Brussels, 115. 
 Basing House, Philip and Mary at, 
 
 166. 
 Bazan, Alvaro de, 66. 
 Beaton, Archbishop of Glasgow, 
 
 hib plans against Elizabeth, 184 
 
 passim. 
 Beauvoir, de, 108. 
 Bedford's, Earl of, visit to Spain 
 
 to ratify the marriage contract, 
 
 128, 137, 142-3 ; Philip's gift 
 
 to, 143-4 >■ chooses the ship to 
 
 carry Philip to England, 145 ; in 
 
 England, 153. 
 Bedford, Earl of, his house in the 
 
 Strand, 264. 
 Benavente, Philip II. at, 141-2. 
 Benavente, Count de, entertains 
 
 Philip II., 141. 
 Benavente, Count de. Chamberlain 
 
 to Charles II., 297, 300. 
 Here, Francis, Rev., rector of 
 
 Prescot, 347, 360, 371. 
 Bere, Richard, his parentage, 348 ; 
 
 his adventures, 348 passim. 
 Bergues, Marquis of, 149. 
 Berlips, Madame, 295. 
 Bertondona, Martin de, Spanish 
 
 naval commander, 145. 
 Bossu, Count, 102, 105. 
 Boulogne besieged by the English, 
 
 79-81. 
 
 Boys, Captain, R.N., Constable of 
 
 Walmer Castle, 358. 
 Boys, Christopher, of Updowne, 
 
 35°- 
 Boys, Mr., of Betshanger, 350. 
 Boys, Lucy, her love passages with 
 
 Richard Bere, 372-5. 
 Boys, Sir John, of Betshanger, 352. 
 Braganza, Duke of, 68. 
 Brazil, offered to Catharine de 
 
 Medici in return for aid to Dom 
 
 Antonio, 18. 
 Brett, Colonel, at Corunna, 33 ; 
 
 killed at Lisbon, 60. 
 Britain's Burse, Strand, 287. 
 Browne, Sir Anthony, master of 
 
 the horse to King Philip, 151. 
 Bruce, Robert, envoy of the 
 
 Scottish Catholics to Philip II., 
 
 199-202. 
 Butler, Sir Philip, a friend of 
 
 Essex, 41. 
 Burleigh, Lord, his house in the 
 
 Strand, 264. 
 Burville, Mr.,rector of Tilmanston, 
 
 35°, 3S8. 
 
 C. 
 
 Cadiz, Drake's attack upon, 8. 
 Calais, the Armada in, 3. 
 Calderon, 253. 
 Caraffa, Cardinal, 197. 
 Cardenas, surrenders Cascaes to 
 
 Drake, 62 ; beheaded by the 
 
 Spaniards, 63. 
 Carew, at Durham Place, 265. 
 Carillo, 155. 
 
 Carlisle House, Strand, 264, 286. 
 Carlos, Don (son of Phihp II.), 
 
 137, I4I' 
 Carr, Captain, killed at Lisbon, 
 
 60. 
 Carsey, Captain, killed at Lisbon, 
 
 60. 
 Cary, Robert, sent by Elizabeth to 
 
 warn James of the Catholic plot, 
 
 202. 
 Cascaes at the mouth of the Tagus, 
 
 Drake at, 62-3, 64, 66, 68. 
 Castile, Admiral of, Prime Minister 
 
 of Spain, 295-8. 
 Castro, Fernando de, 56. 
 Catharine de Medici, aids Dom 
 
 Antonio, 16, 18. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 379 
 
 Catharine of Lancaster, bride of 
 the Prince of Castile, 218. 
 
 Cave, Sir Ambrose, gives a wed- 
 ding feast at Durham Place, 
 282-3. 
 
 Cecil, Robert, first Earl of Salis- 
 bury, his house in the Strand, 
 264 ; obtains Strand frontage of 
 Durham Place, 267, 286-7. 
 
 Cecilia of Sweden, Margravine of 
 Baden, at Durham Place, 
 283-4. 
 
 Cerralba, Marquis of, defends 
 Corunna, 31. 
 
 Cervantes' burial-place, 75-6. 
 
 Challoner, Sir Thomas, English 
 ambassador in Spain, 274. 
 
 Chambergo hat, 254. 
 
 Chapin-\'itelli, at Mons, 99. 
 
 Charles W, Emperor, his decrees 
 against extravagance in dress, 
 223-4. 
 
 Charles II. of Spain (the Be- 
 witched), his appearance, 291, 
 296 ; his distress, 297 ; the exor- 
 cism, 303 passim ; death, 319. 
 
 Charles II. of Spain, his sumptuary 
 decrees, 255. 
 
 Charles III. of Spain, his sumptu- 
 ary decrees, 257-9. 
 
 Charles IV. of Spain, his sumptu- 
 ary decrees, 259-60. 
 
 Charles Stuart's visit to Madrid, 
 249-50. 
 
 Chartres, Vidame de, 276. 
 
 Chatillon, French ambassador, at 
 Durham Place, 268. 
 
 Chinchon, Count de, 155. 
 
 Churchill (1697), 368-9, 370. 
 
 Coaches, abuse in the use of, 
 231-2, 242-3, 244, 256. 
 
 Cobham, Lord, 153, 284. 
 
 Cobham, Lady, 284-5. 
 
 Como, Cardinal, 197. 
 
 Copetes (topknots), decree against, 
 
 ass- 
 Cordoba, Don Antonio de, mobbed 
 
 in London, 170. 
 Cordoba, Cardinal, Inquisitor- 
 General (Charles II.), 316 ; 
 poisoned, 316. 
 Cordoba, Pedro de. Chamberlain 
 of Phihp II., 149 ; mobbed in 
 London, 170. 
 
 Corunna, English attack upon, 
 
 31-40, 45- 
 Corunna, Philip II. at, 144 ; the 
 
 Spanish fleet at, 145-6 ; Philip 
 
 II., departure from, to marrv 
 
 Mar}', 147. 
 Cotes, Sebastian de, a conspirator 
 
 against the Queen Marie Anne 
 
 of Neuberg, 298. 
 Coventry, Lord Keeper, at Dur- 
 ham Place, 287. 
 Clanking farthingales, 251, 252. 
 Clarencis, Mistress Susan, 273. 
 Clinton, Lord, 153. 
 Cloth manufactory in Spain, 218, 
 
 224, 227. 
 Creighton the Jesuit, his action in 
 
 the plot against England, 188, 
 
 189, 201. 
 Crisp, Provost-Marshal, 51. 
 Cromwell, Richard, at Durham 
 
 Place, 265. 
 
 D. 
 
 Danes Court, Tilmanston, Kent, 
 347 passim. 
 
 Darcy, Lord, 153. 
 
 D'Aubigny, Duke of Lennox, joins 
 in the plot against England, 
 185, 188, I go. 
 
 Derby, Earl of, 149, 153, 160, 164. 
 
 Derby, Earl of (1700), 371. 
 
 D'Este, Cardinal, 197. 
 
 Devereux, Walter (Essex's brother), 
 41. 
 
 Diaz, Cristobal, a Spanish captain 
 in the English service, 85, 90. 
 
 Diaz, Froilan, the new confessor 
 of Charles II., 299 ; his partici- 
 pation in the exorcism, 303 
 passim ; confesses, 316 ; arrested 
 and escapes, 317; re-captured 
 and imprisoned by the In- 
 quisitor-General, 318-19 ; re- 
 leased and made Bishop of 
 Avila, 320. 
 
 Diaz de Lobo, Ruy, beheaded in 
 Lisbon, 57. 
 
 Dormer, Jane, Countess of Feria, 
 158 ; at Durham Place, 268, 
 
 273- 
 Drake, Sir Francis, commands the 
 expedition against Portugal, 9, 
 
38o 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 23, 25, 26, 28, 29, 30, 31, 35, 
 
 39-43, 45-6, 62-3, 64, 66, 69, 71. 
 Dryden, John, 346. 
 Dudley, Earl of Warwick and 
 
 Duke of Northumberland, 82, 
 
 91, 265-6. 
 Dudley, Robert, Earl of Leicester, 
 
 at Durham Place, 269. 
 Dumblain, Bishop of, 201. 
 Durham Place, description of, in 
 
 Tudor times, 270-2. 
 
 E. 
 
 Ecclesiastical palaces in the Strand, 
 264. 
 
 Egmont's visit to Madrid, 93 ; his 
 arrest and execution, 94-5. 
 
 Egmont, Count, at Durham Place, 
 268. 
 
 Egmont's visit to London to ratify 
 Philip and Mary's marriage con- 
 tract, 137, 139 ; with Philip, 140, 
 
 149, 155- 
 Elder, John, his account of Philip 
 
 and Mary's entrance into Lon- 
 don, 125. 
 Elizabeth's attitude towards Spain, 
 
 179-80. 
 Elizabeth of Valois, Queen of 
 
 Spain, 228, 231. 
 Englefield, Sir Francis, English 
 
 adviser of Philip IL, igo. 
 English Catholic feeling against 
 
 the Scots, 190-1, 195-6, 198. 
 English Catholics favour a purely 
 
 Spanish attack on England, 192, 
 
 193- 
 English aggression against Spain, 
 
 8, 182-3. 
 English fashions, Spanish opinion 
 
 of, 157-8, 165-7, 171- 
 English feeling after the Armada, 
 
 7-8. 
 English feeling against Philip's 
 marriage with Mary, 137, 169- 
 
 74- 
 English food, abundance of, 167. 
 English ladies, Spanish opinion of, 
 
 157-8, 166. 
 Enriquez, Pedro, his account of 
 
 the marriage of Philip and 
 
 Mary, 134-5 passim. 
 
 Essex, Earl of (Walter Devereux), 
 at Durham Place, 286. 
 
 Essex, Robert, Earl of, flight from 
 Court to join the Portuguese 
 expedition, 27 ; embarks on the 
 Swiftsure and escapes, 28-9 ; the 
 Queen's rage thereat, 28, 35 ; 
 joins the expedition at sea, 41 ; 
 lands at Peniche, 43 ; leads the 
 vanguard, 51-2 ; at Lisbon, 56, 
 60, 64 ; his humanity, 66 ; sends 
 a challenge to the Spaniards, 
 67-8. 
 
 Ethrington, Captain, at Puente de 
 Burgos, 38. 
 
 Expedition against Portugal : 
 authorities hitherto known re- 
 specting it, 10 ; new authorities 
 now quoted, 10, 11, 12 ; its con- 
 stitution as a joint-stock enter- 
 prise, 9, 18, 22-8 ; its strength, 
 24-6 ; difficulties, 24-8 ; finally 
 sails, 29 ; attacks Corunna, 31- 
 40 ; alarm in Spain, 30-3, 39-40 ; 
 the sacking ot Corunna, 33-5 ; 
 arrival at Peniche, 43-7, 51 ; 
 attack on Lisbon, 60-6 ; with- 
 drawal, 63-8 ; sails from Cas- 
 caes, 70 ; return to England, 71 ; 
 reasons for its failure, 72. 
 
 Fadrique de Toledo, 98, 100, loi, 
 
 103-4. 
 Fashion in hair-dressing, 250, 
 
 2S3-4. 
 
 Fashion of dress in Spain in time 
 of Phihp IL, 230-4; in the 
 time of Phihp III., 238-9 ; in 
 the time of Philip IV., 247-54. 
 
 Female extravagance in dress, 
 Philip IV.'s fulmination against, 
 
 251-3- 
 
 Fenner, Captain, with the Enghsh 
 at Corunna, 32. 
 
 Ferdinand and Isabel, their de- 
 crees against gold and silver 
 tissues, 220 ; limiting the use of 
 silk, 221. 
 
 Fernando de Toledo, prior, com- 
 mands the Spanish army to 
 relieve Lisbon, 30, 39, 61. 
 
 Feniihurst (Gray, Laird of), 185. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 381 
 
 Feria, Count de, 140, 149, 155 ; 
 
 marries Jane Dormer, 158 ; 
 
 urges Philip to attack England, 
 
 180 ; at Durham Place, 267-8, 
 
 269, 272, 273. 
 Feria, Countess de. See Dormer. 
 Figueroa, Spanish special envoy, 
 
 149. 
 Finch, Lord Keeper, at Durham 
 
 Place, 287. 
 Fitzwalter, Lord, accompanies 
 
 Bedford to Spain, 137, 142, 143 ; 
 
 in England, 153. 
 Fogge family of Danes Court, 
 
 347 passim. 
 Fogge, Captain Christopher, 347. 
 Fogge, Edward, 352. 
 Fogge, John, of Danes Court, 
 
 348, 352, 366-7, 368, 372, 375. 
 Fogge, Richard, Cavalier, 348, 
 
 352- 
 
 Fogge, Richard, heir of Danes 
 Court, 351, 363, 366, 367, 37S-6. 
 
 Folch de Cardona, Antonio, a 
 member of the Queen's party, 
 301, 313, 316, 318. 
 
 Folch de Cardona, Lorenzo, Mem- 
 ber of the Council of the In- 
 quisition, 301, 313, 318-19. 
 
 Fouldrey, Dalton-in-Furness, pro- 
 posed place of landing for the 
 Spanish invasion, 192. 
 
 Francisco Fernando, the illegiti- 
 mate son of Philip IV., 328-41. 
 
 French ambassador de Foix at 
 Durham Place, 282. 
 
 French fashions, revolt against, in 
 Spain, 255. 
 
 Fronde's account of the marriage 
 of Philip and Mary, 126, 130, 
 131 passim. 
 
 Fuentes, Count de, commands the 
 Spaniards in Lisbon, 55-6, 65, 
 67, 72. 
 
 Fulford, Captain, at Puente de 
 Burgos, 38. 
 
 Gafas (horn spectacles), 254. 
 
 Gage, Sir John, 154. 
 
 Gamboa, Sir Peter, a Spanish 
 captain, murdered in London, 
 77 ; enters the English service. 
 
 82-3 ; ipensioned by Henry 
 VIII., 86; his treachery to 
 Romero, 88-9 ; his brilliant 
 charge at Pinkie, 90. 
 
 Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, 
 15s, 161, 174. 
 
 Garter, the investure of Phihp 
 with, 149, 150. 
 
 Genlis' troops massacred at Mons, 
 99. 
 
 Germaine de Foix, Queen of 
 Aragon, 221. 
 
 Giliraonas, the, leaders of the 
 ladies' revolt against the sump- 
 tuary decrees, 252-3. 
 
 Glimes, de, Flemish captain in the 
 Spanish service, killed, 109. 
 
 Godolphin, Lord, 373. 
 
 Golilla, invention of the, 248, 249, 
 255, 260. 
 
 Gomez, Ruy, Philip II.'s favourite, 
 146, 149. 
 
 Gonsalves de Ateide, commands 
 the Spaniards at Peniche, 42-3. 
 
 Gonzaga, Cardinal, 197. 
 
 Goodwin, Captain, wounded at 
 Corunna, 35. 
 
 Granada, Archbishop of, protests 
 against Olivares leading Philip 
 IV. into dissipation, 326-7. 
 
 Granvelle, Cardinal de, his attitude 
 towards the plot against Eng- 
 land, 187, 189. 
 
 Grey, Lady Jane, married at 
 Durham Place, 265. 
 
 Grey, Lord, in command at 
 Boulogne, 81. 
 
 Guaras, Antonio de, 77, 88. 
 
 Guarda-Infante (flattened farthin- 
 gales), decrees against, 251-3. 
 
 Guedejas (side locks), 250 ; decrees 
 against, 253-4. 
 
 Guevara, Captain, hanged for 
 murder at Smithfield, 77. 
 
 Guise, Duke of, his plans against 
 England, 184 passim. 
 
 Gutierre, Lope de Padilla, sent to 
 receive the English envoys, 139, 
 149. 
 
 Guzman, Captain, at Torres 
 Vedras, 47, 51. SS- 7°- 
 
 Guzman, Diego de, Spanish am- 
 bassador in England, 182 ; at 
 Durham House, 282, 285. 
 
38- 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 H. 
 
 Haarlem, siege of, 102-4. 
 Haddington, siege of, 90. 
 Hamilton, Lord Claude, appeals to 
 
 Philip II., 199. 
 Haro, Juan de, a Spanish captain 
 
 in the English service, 78, 82. 
 Hawkins, John, at Durham Place, 
 
 269. 
 Heneage, Sir Thomas, 285. 
 Henry, King-Cardinal of Portugal, 
 
 12, 13- 
 Henry IV. of Castile, 219. 
 Henry VIII. attacks Boulogne, 
 
 79-81 ; his death, 90. 
 Hinder, Captain, at Puente de 
 
 Burgos, 38. 
 Holt, Father, the Jesuit, his action 
 
 in the plot against England, 
 
 186. 
 Horn, Count, with PhiUp II. in 
 
 England, 149, 155 ; his arrest 
 
 and execution, 94-5. 
 Hostages, French, in England, 
 
 276. 
 Household of an ambassador at 
 
 Durham Place, 274. 
 Howard, Lord Admiral, with Philip 
 
 and Mary, 155 ; proposes an ex- 
 pedition to Portugal, 9. 
 Howard, Lord James (1696), 366. 
 Hugo's, Victor, distortion of his- 
 tory, 294. 
 Huntingdon, Earl of, sent by the 
 
 Queen to seek Esse.\, 28. 
 Huntly, Colonel, at Corunna, 
 
 33-4- 
 Huntly, Earl of, appeals to Philip 
 
 II., 199. 
 Hunsdon, Lord, 284. 
 
 I. 
 
 Infantado, Duke of, 249. 
 
 Ireland, the Armada on the coast 
 
 of, S- 
 Isassi Ydiaquez, Juan de, takes 
 
 charge of the child of Philip 
 
 IV. (Francisco Fernando), 328 
 
 passim. 
 Ivy Lane, Strand, 263, 286. 
 
 J- 
 
 Jaime I. of Aragon, his enact- 
 ment against extravagance, 211. 
 
 James VI. of Scotland, plan to 
 carry him to Spain, 185 ; his 
 duplicity, 186 ; his religion, 186, 
 192, 193-S, 197, 201. 
 
 Jara, near Lisbon, 55. 
 
 Jewels brought to England by 
 Dom Antonio, 14-17. 
 
 John I. of Castile, his sumptuary 
 decrees, 218. 
 
 John II. of Castile, 219. 
 
 Juana la Loca, Queen, 141 ; her 
 sumptuary decree, 222. 
 
 Juan, Don, of Austria, 114, 120; 
 seizes Namur, 120. 
 
 Juan Jose, Don, of Austria, 254, 
 292, 307, 340. 
 
 Juan of Portugal, Philip's brother- 
 in-law, death of, 138. 
 
 Julian, Captain. See Romero. 
 
 K. 
 
 Katharine of Aragon at Durham 
 
 Place, 266. 
 Kett's rising, suppressed by the 
 
 aid of Spanish mercenaries, 77. 
 Kildare, Earl of, 164. 
 Kingston, at Durham Place, 265. 
 KnoUys, Francis, sent by the 
 
 Queen to seek for Essex, 27. 
 
 L. 
 
 Lane, Colonel, at Lisbon, 60. 
 
 Leganes, Marquis de, a conspirator 
 against the Queen Marie Anne 
 of Neuberg, 298. 
 
 Leicester, Earl of, and Dom An- 
 tonio's jewels, 14. See also Dud- 
 ley, Robert. 
 
 Lethington (William Maitland, 
 Laird of), at Durham Place, 269. 
 
 Linen, manufacture of, in Spain, 
 227. 
 
 Lisbon, English attack on, 45-6 ; 
 Spanish force fall back, 47 ; 
 terror in the city, 47-50, 54-5 ; 
 attempts to betray the city, 57- 
 8 ; night attack on the English, 
 60-61 ; withdrawal of the 
 EngUsh, 63-66 ; distrust of the 
 Spaniards, 65. 
 
 Lloyd, Andrew, " the author," 363, 
 365. 
 
 Lope de Vega, 253. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 383 
 
 Lopez, Dr. Ruy, 15, 17. 
 Louvres, near Lisbon, 55. 
 Lumay, Count de la Mark, 103. 
 Lumley, Lord, at Durham Place, 
 269. 
 
 Mv 
 
 Madrid in the sixteenth and 
 seventeenth centuries, 231-44, 
 
 242-3. 251-5- 
 
 Maineville, de, sent by Guise to 
 Scotland, 190-1. 
 
 Margaret of Parma, 93. 
 
 Mariana, Queen Regent of Spain, 
 254. 292, 307. 
 
 Marie Anne of Neuberg, Queen 
 of Spain, 292, 295, 300, 301 ; 
 discovers the exorcism, 313-16. 
 
 Marie Louise of Orleans, Queen of 
 Spain, 292. 
 
 Marriage of Philip and Mary, feeling 
 against it in England, 137, 167- 
 74 ; hard conditions imposed by 
 the English, 138 ; great prepara- 
 tions in Spain, 140-1 ; voyage of 
 Philip, 147-53 ; his first inter- 
 view with Mary, 154-7 < the 
 ceremony at Winchester, 160 ; 
 the banquet, 161-3 ; after the 
 marriage, 164-74. 
 
 Mary, Queen, her first present to 
 Philip, 139 ; at Winchester, 
 152 ; her presents to Philip, 152- 
 3 ; her first interview with 
 Philip, 154-7 ; her appearance, 
 156-7 ; her splendour at the 
 marriage ceremony, 160 ; at the 
 banquet, 161-3 ; laer reception 
 of the Duchess of Alba, 164. 
 
 Mary Stuart, proposal to marry 
 her to Don Carlos, 181 ; her 
 adhesion to Spain, 184-5, 188-9, 
 196, 198. 
 
 Mason, Sir John, 91. 
 
 Massino, Captain, attempt to 
 murder him in the Strand, 276, 
 277. 
 
 Master of Santiago, Regent of 
 Castile, his denunciation of 
 extravagance in attire, 220. 
 
 Matilla, confessor to Charles IL of 
 Spain, 29s ; his fall and death, 
 300-1. 
 
 Matthew, Toby, Bishop of Dur- 
 ham, at Durham Place, 267. 
 
 Medici, Cardinal de, 197. 
 
 Medici, Pietro de, ordered to raise 
 mercenaries for the Spanish 
 service, 39. 
 
 Medina CeU, Duke of, 140, 155 ; 
 sent to replace Alba in the 
 Netherlands, 98. 
 
 Medina Sidonia, Duke of, his re- 
 turn to Spain from the Armada, 5. 
 
 Medkirk, Colonel, at Lisbon, 60. 
 
 Melino, Guise's envoy to the Pope, 
 192, 196. 
 
 Mendovi, Cardinal, 201. 
 
 Mendoza, Bishop of Segovia, 
 Inquisitor-General (Charles II. ), 
 317 ; contest with the Inquisi- 
 tion, 318-19 ; dismissed, 319. 
 
 Mendoza, Bernardino de, Spanish 
 ambassador in England and 
 France, 14, 105, 186-9, i98-99> 
 200. 
 
 Mendoza, liiigo de, 155, 162. 
 
 Merino sheep introduced into 
 Spain by Catharine of Lancaster, 
 218. 
 
 Middleburg besieged by the 
 Gueux, 107 ; Romero's attempt 
 to relieve, 107-10. 
 
 Middleton, Captain, at Puente de 
 Burgos, 38. 
 
 Milford Lane, Strand, 263. 
 
 Mondragon, Spanish commander 
 in Middleburg, 107-8, 119. 
 
 Monins, Lady, of Waldeshare, 
 
 350. 372-3- 
 Montague, Viscount (Browne), at 
 
 Durham Place, 269. 
 Monterey, Count, conspirator 
 
 against the Queen Marie Anne 
 
 of Neuberg, 298. 
 Montigny, at Madrid, 94. 
 Montreuil, besieged by the 
 
 English, 79, 80, 81 ; Romero's 
 
 duel at, 83-6. 
 Mora, Cristobal, deserts from the 
 
 EngUsh service, 82 ; challenges 
 
 Gamboa, 83 ; his duel with 
 
 Romero, 83^. 
 Moors, sumptuary rules for, 213. 
 Morton, Earl of, 185. 
 Morton, Earl of (the younger), 
 
 appeals to Philip II., 199. 
 
3«4 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Murder attempted from Durham 
 Place, 276-7 ; escape of the 
 criminal by the water-gate, 278. 
 
 N. 
 
 Naarden, the massacre at, loo-i. 
 
 Nantouillet, Provost of Paris, a 
 hostage in England, 276, 278. 
 
 Navas, Marquis de, sent to Eng- 
 land with Philip's first present 
 to Mary, 139, 146, 148, 164. 
 
 Negro, Sir Pero, a Spanish captain 
 in England, 78, 90. 
 
 Noailles, de, French ambassador, 
 his account of the marriage of 
 Philip and Mary, 128-31 ; his 
 efforts against the match, 130, 
 
 137- 
 
 Norfolk, Duke of, besieges Mon- 
 treuil, (1544) 79-80. 
 
 Norfolk, Duke of (1698), 369, 371. 
 
 Norris, Sir Edward, at Corunna, 
 34 ; wounded, 38. 
 
 Norris, Sir John, commands the 
 land forces of the expedition 
 against Portugal, 9, 23, 25, 26, 
 35-6, 41-3, 45-6, 51, 55, 58, 62 ; 
 withdrawn from Lisbon, 64-6 ; 
 arrival at Cascaes, 66. 
 
 North, Lord, 153. 
 
 Northumberland, Duke of, makes 
 use of the Spaniards to overawe 
 Somerset, 91 ; dismisses them, 
 91. See also Dudley. 
 
 Nuiiez, Cristobal, Dr., his orders 
 for the rearing of a child (Fran- 
 cisco Fernando), 335-9. 
 
 O. 
 
 Odonte, Francisco de, letter from 
 Lisbon, 58-9. 
 
 Olivares, Chamberlain of Philip 
 IL, 149. 
 
 Olivares (the Count-Duke), Minis- 
 ter of Philip IV., 247, 249, 326-7 ; 
 his orders for the rearing of 
 Philip's child, 330-3. 
 
 Olivares, Count de, Spanish am- 
 bassador in Rome, 197. 
 
 O'Neil, Shan, at Durham Place, 
 269, 276, 281. 
 
 Orange, Prince of, 98, 105, 114. 
 
 Orfeur, Captain (1698), 354, 369. 
 
 Oropesa, Count de, Spanish Minis- 
 ter, 295. 
 
 Osorio, Captain, 109. 
 
 Oviedo, Bishop of, refuses to par- 
 ticipate in the exorcism, 303. 
 
 P. 
 
 Pacheco, Don Juan, 165. 
 
 Paget, Charles, Guise's envoy to 
 England, 192. 
 
 Paramour, Mr., of Straten- 
 borough, 350. 
 
 Parma, Duke of, his share in the 
 defeat of the Armada, 5 ; his 
 negotiation with the Scotch 
 Catholics, 200. 
 
 Pembroke, Earl of, 152-3, 161, 
 164 ; buys Durham Place (1640), 
 287. 
 
 Penalties for infraction of the 
 sumptuary laws, 214, 216-17, 
 218, 241, 247, 256. 
 
 Peniche, the English at, 43-7, 51. 
 
 Perez, Ensign, deserts to the 
 Scots, 90. 
 
 Persons, Father Robert, the Je- 
 suit, his action in the plot against 
 England, 186, 198, 201. 
 
 Pescara, Marquis de, 140, 149, 155. 
 
 Peter the Cruel of Castile, his 
 sumptuary decrees, 217-18. 
 
 Pewry, rector of Knowlton, 350. 
 
 Philip IL accepts the match with 
 Mary at his father's bidding, 
 138-9 ; his journey to Vallado- 
 lid, 138 ; splendour of his outfit, 
 140; his reception of the Eng- 
 lish envoys, 142-3 ; splendid 
 departure from Corunna, 144- 
 7 ; voyage and arrival in Eng- 
 land, 147-9 ; his gracious 
 manner, 148 ; at Southampton, 
 149-52 ; journey and arrival at 
 Winchester, 152-4; his first 
 interview with the Queen, 
 154-7 ; his splendour at the 
 wedding, 160 ; at the marriage 
 banquet, 161-3 ; his attention 
 to Mary, 166; his departure 
 from England, 174. 
 
 Philip IL, his reception of the 
 news of the disaster of the 
 Armada, 6; his action on the 
 
INDEX. 
 
 38s 
 
 news of the English expedition, 
 
 30,44- 
 Phihp II. and the Flemish nobles, 
 
 93-4- 
 
 Philip II. and the Portuguese suc- 
 cession, 13. 
 
 Philip II., his character, 177. 
 
 Philip II., his attitude towards 
 England, 8-9, 178-83, 184, 188, 
 190-S, 197-8, 202. 
 
 Philip II., his splendour in appa- 
 rel, 225-6 ; his sumptuary 
 decrees, 228, 229, 230, 234-5. 
 
 Phihp III., his sumptuary decrees, 
 238-44. 
 
 Philip IV., his appearance and 
 character, 323 ; Spain under his 
 rule, 234-5 ; his youthful dissi- 
 pation, 326-7 ; adventure in the 
 convent of San Placido, 328. 
 
 Philip IV., decrees against extra- 
 vagances in apparel, 247-54. 
 
 Philip V. of Spain, his sumptuary 
 decrees, 255-6. 
 
 Pole, Arthur, at Durham Place, 
 269, 281. 
 
 Pole, Cardinal, 267. 
 
 Portocarrero, Cardinal, forwards 
 the intrigue against the Queen 
 Marie Anne of Neuberg, 297 
 passim. 
 
 Portuguese succession, claimants 
 to, 12, 13, 14. 
 
 Portuguese feeling towards the 
 English expedition, 43, 47-50, 
 
 53-S- 
 Poulet, Earl (1700), 373-5. 
 Poynings, at Durham Place, 265. 
 Prior, Matthew, 346. 
 Puente de Burgos, light at, 38. 
 
 Q- 
 
 Quadra, Bishop, urges Phihp to 
 make war on England, 180. 
 
 Quadra (Bishop of Aquila, Spanish 
 ambassador) at Durham Place, 
 273 ; complaints of his conduct, 
 275 ; facilitates the escape of a 
 criminal, 277-8 ; Cecil's attempt 
 to dislodge him, 278-9 ; his de- 
 fence of his conduct, 280-1 ; 
 expelled from Durham Place, 
 281. 
 
 Quevedo, 253. 
 
 R. 
 
 Raleigh, Sir Walter, 28, 35 ; at 
 Durham Place, 266, 267, 271, 
 286. 
 
 Ravenstein, Austrian envoy, at 
 Durham Place, 273. 
 
 Redondo, Count de, beheaded in 
 Lisbon, 67. 
 
 Relations between England and 
 Spain. See Spain. 
 
 Renard and the marriage of Philip 
 and Mary, 137, 148 ; his plan to 
 marry Elizabeth to the Duke of 
 Savoy, 178. 
 
 Requesens, Grand Commander, 
 Alba's successor in the Nether- 
 lands, 107-10, III, 114. 
 
 Richmond, Philip and Mary at, 
 166. 
 
 Riots in Madrid against the sump- 
 tuary decrees, 237, 252, 257-9. 
 
 Rivalry between Spanish and 
 French ambassadors, 282-3. 
 
 Robles, Caspar de, his account of 
 the siege of Haarlem, 104. 
 
 Rocaberti, Inquisitor - General 
 (Charles II.), 302 ; his share in 
 the exorcism, 303 passim ; death, 
 
 313- 
 
 Rodas, Jerome, Spanish member 
 of the Flemish Council, 115, 
 119 ; his head demanded by the 
 Flemings, 120. 
 
 Rome, intrigues in, respecting the 
 invasion of England, 197-201. 
 
 Romero, Julian, his origin, 78-9 ; 
 enters the EngUsh service, 82 ; 
 sent to Scotland, 82 ; at Calais, 
 83 ; accepts Mora's challenge to 
 Gamboa, 83 ; the duel, 83-6 ; 
 rewarded by the kings of France 
 and England, 86 ; in London, 
 87 ; arrested for debt, 87-8 ; 
 accused of treason, 88-9 ; at 
 Pinkie and Leith, 90 ; dismissed 
 the English service, 91 ; sur- 
 renders Dinant to the French, 
 
 92 ; bravery at St. Quintin, 92 ; 
 in Italy, 93 ; sent to Flanders, 
 
 93 ; aids in the arrest of 
 Egmont, 94-5 ; his severity, 
 95-6 ; returns to Spain, 95-6 ; 
 rumoured intention of attacking 
 
 26 
 
386 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 England, 97 ; again sent to 
 Flanders, 98 ; at Mons, 98-9 ; 
 his account of affairs in the 
 Netherlands, 99 ; his cruelty at 
 Naarden, loo-i ; his behaviour 
 at Haarlem, 102-4 ; his march 
 of vengeance through Holland, 
 IDS ; begs for leave to return 
 home, 106, III; his unsuccessful 
 attempt to relieve Middleburg, 
 107-10 ; his letter to Requesens, 
 112-13 ; again in the Nether- 
 lands, 114 ; sent by the Flemish 
 Council to pacify the mutinous 
 Spaniards, 115 ; his share in the 
 " Spanish Fury," 1 16-20 ; his 
 head demanded by the Flem- 
 ings, 120 ; marches out of 
 Flanders, 120 ; to return from 
 Italy in command, 120 ; dies on 
 the way, 120. 
 
 Romney, Earl of (1697), 368. 
 
 Ronquillo, Francisco, a conspirator 
 against the Queen Marie Anne 
 ot Neuberg, 298, 302. 
 
 Ruffs, decrees against, 243-5. 
 
 Rusticucci, Cardinal, 197. 
 
 Ruthven, Raid of, 190. 
 
 Rutland, Earl of, 153. 
 
 S. 
 
 Saint Ferdinand, King, in Seville, 
 212. 
 
 Salablanca, a Spanish captain at 
 Boulogne, 81. 
 
 Sampson, Captain, at Corunna, 33. 
 
 San Anton, gate of, Lisbon, 60. 
 
 Sancho de Avila, Spanish com- 
 mander in Flanders, 76 ; at 
 Egmont's arrest, 94 ; in the 
 Spanish fury, 116-20; his head 
 demanded by the Flemings, 
 120. 
 
 Sancho Bravo, Spanish officer in 
 Lisbon, 59-60, 65. 
 
 San Felipe, galleon captured 
 Drake, 8-9. by 
 
 San Roque, monastery, Lisbon, 
 60. 
 
 Santa Cruz defeats Strozzi at the 
 Azores, 16, 18 ; offers to invade 
 England, 194, 200, 202. 
 
 Santa Catalina, gate of, Lisbon, 60. 
 Santander, arrival of the Armada 
 
 in, S- 
 Santiago, Philip's reception at, 
 
 142-3- 
 
 Santorio, Cardinal, 197. 
 
 Sanzio, Cardinal, 197, 201. 
 
 Savoy, the. Strand, 264. 
 
 Scottish Catholics appeal to Philip, 
 186-9, 199 ; proposal to invade 
 England in the interest of Spain, 
 199-200. 
 
 Sebastian, King of Portugal, 12. 
 
 Seymour, at Durham Place, 265 ; 
 grants Durham Place to Eliza- 
 beth, 265. Sec also Somerset. 
 
 Shrewsbury, Earl of (1689), 359. 
 
 Sidney, Colonel, at Puente de 
 Burgos, 38. 
 
 Sidney, Lady, at Durham Place, 
 269. 
 
 Silk manufactory in Spain, 220-1, 
 224, 227. 
 
 Sirleto, Cardinal, 197. 
 
 Sixtus v., Pope, subsidises the 
 Armada, 5 ; joins in the plot 
 against England, 196-203. 
 
 Somerset, Protector, 90-1. 
 
 Sotomayor, Inquisitor - General, 
 rebukes Philip IV. for his sacre- 
 ligious amour, 329. 
 
 Southampton, the landing of Philip 
 II. at, 149. 
 
 Spain, relations with England, 177 
 ■passim. 
 
 Spaniards, their discontent at their 
 position in England with Philip 
 II., 153, 161, 164-7, 168, 169, 
 170, 171-4. 
 
 Spanish accounts of the coming 
 of Philip to England, 132-7. 
 
 Spanish extravagance in dress, 
 223-4, 229, 24s, 249. 
 
 Spanish Fury, the, 115-20. 
 
 Spanish mercenaries in the Eng- 
 lish service, 77-8 ; at Boulogne, 
 80-4 ; fresh bodies recruited, 
 82 ; sent to Scotland, 82-3 ; at 
 Boulogne and Calais, 83-4 ; sent 
 to Scotland, 89-90. 
 
 Spanish nation clamours for re- 
 venge for the defeat of the 
 Armada, 6-7. 
 
 Spanish troops in Flanders mutiny 
 
INDEX. 
 
 387 
 
 ^r pay, 1 14-15 ; plot to seize 
 Brussels, 115; massacres at 
 Alost, &c., 1 15-16; the Spanish 
 Fury, 117-20; marched out of 
 Flanders, 120. 
 
 Spanish succession, intrigues re- 
 specting, 292-4. 
 
 Spencer, Master of the Ordnance 
 at Corunna, 34. 
 
 Spes, Guerau de, Spanish am- 
 bassador, 182. 
 
 Squillaci, Marquis de (Esquilache), 
 his attempt to suppress the 
 Chambergo and cloak, 257-9. 
 
 Stanhope, his letters from Spain 
 about Charles the Bewitched, 
 291. 296, 304- 
 
 Stourton, Deputy - Governor of 
 Windsor (1700), 368-9, 371. 
 
 Strand, the, in Tudor times, 264, 
 270-1. 
 
 Strand Lane, 263. 
 
 Strange, Lord, 153, 161. 
 
 Stukeley, Thomas, his proposed 
 invasion of Ireland, 96-7; at 
 Durham Place, 269. 
 
 Suffolk, Duke of (Brandon), 80. 
 
 Sumptuary enactments in Eng- 
 land, 208. 
 
 Sumptuary enactments in Spain, 
 208 passim. 
 
 Surrey, Earl of, 153. 
 
 Sussex, Countess of, 284. 
 
 Swiftsure, the, sails surreptitiously 
 with Essex on board, 28, 35, 41. 
 
 Sydenham, Captain, sad death of, 
 at Corunna, 37. 
 
 Talbot, Lord, 153. 
 
 Tassis, J. B., Spanish ambassador 
 in France, 185, 188, 194-5. 
 
 Taverns in London (1693), 353-5, 
 356-7, 360. 
 
 Thomas, Timothy, M.A., head- 
 master of Sandwich School, 351. 
 
 Throgmorton's plot, discovery of, 
 
 195- 
 Titles, decree of Philip IL against, 
 
 236-7, 242. 
 Torres Vedras, on the road to 
 
 Lisbon, 51-2. 
 Trains, decree against, 216. 
 
 Treason against Elizabeth at Dur- 
 ham Place, 269, 273. 
 
 Tunstal, Bishop of Durham, at 
 Durham Place, 266-7. 
 
 U. 
 
 Umpton, Colonel, at Corunna, 33. 
 
 Underhyll, Edward, the hot-gos- 
 peller, at Queen Mary's wedding, 
 126, 161-2. 
 
 Urraca, Juan Antonio, a conspira- 
 tor against the Queen Marie 
 Anne of Neuberg, 298. 
 
 y. 
 
 Valenzuela, favourite of Mariana, 
 Queen Regent of Spain, 309. 
 
 Valladolid, rejoicing and mourning 
 at, 138 ; Philip's departure from, 
 141. 
 
 Van Dyk, Mr. (1700), 371. 
 
 Vargas, Alonso de, Spanish com- 
 mander in Flanders, 115-16, 117. 
 
 Vigo burnt by the English, 70. 
 
 Villa Dorta, Count de, pursues the 
 English, 65-6. 
 
 Villanueva Geronimo, Minister of 
 PhiUp IV., 328 ; punished by 
 the Inquisition for sacrilege, 
 
 .329, 339- 
 Villa Sirga, Sir Alonso, a Spanish 
 captain murdered in London, 
 77, 9°- 
 
 W. 
 
 Waldershare Park, 350, 372-3. 
 Walloon collars, 247-8. 
 Walsingham, Secretary, 9, 15, 35, 
 
 97- 
 
 Wedding feasts, decrees against 
 extravagance at, 213, 216. 
 
 William III., death of, 372. 
 
 Williams, Sir Roger, aids Essex to 
 escape, 28, 35, 41 ; takes part in 
 the attack on Lisbon, 42, 51-2, 
 56-8, 64, 68. 
 
 Williams of Thame, Sir John, 149. 
 
 Willoughby, Lord, 153. 
 
 Winchester, Marquis of, 153, 162 ; 
 at Durham Place, 269. 
 
 Windebank, Captain, 107. 
 
 Wingfield's account of the Portu- 
 guese expedition, 10 passim. 
 
388 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Wiiigfield, Anthony, at Puente de 
 
 Burgos, 38. 
 Wingfaeld, Sir Edward, 41. 
 Wingfield, Captain Richard, 33. 
 Woodward, Parson (1700), 375. 
 Worcester, Earl of, 153. 
 Wotton, Dr., 92. 
 Wyatt's rebellion, 128, 137. 
 
 Y. 
 
 Yorke, Colonel, at Corunna, 37 
 at Lisbon, 55, 60. 
 
 Z. 
 
 Zeeland lost to Spain, 1 10. 
 
 UXWIN BROTHERS, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKIXG AND LO.NDOX. 
 
APR26189,9