HOW THE SPANISH FLEET ENTERED THE SOLENT SEA.
Early on the morning of the 19th of July, 1554, the long-looked-for
Spanish fleet, conveying the royal bridegroom to our shores, was
descried from the loftiest hill of the Isle of Wight, and presented a
most magnificent spectacle as it neared that lovely island.
Consisting, as we have intimated, of a hundred and fifty sail—a third of
the number being vessels of large size—the fleet formed a wide
half-moon, in the midst of which rode the stately ship bearing Philip
and the principal nobles of his suite. The “Santissima Trinidada” rose
like a towered castle from the water. From the lofty crenellated turret
at the stern floated a broad banner, embroidered in gold, with the arms
of Castile and Aragon; its masts, and the turret at the forecastle,
corresponding with that at the stern, were gaudily painted; and the
sides elaborately carved and covered with devices, were so richly
burnished, that the waves shone with their glow. Armed with the heaviest
guns then in use, this splendid vessel had on board, besides her crews
and the Prince’s suite, three hundred fully equipped arquebusiers.
Other ships there were scarcely inferior to the “Santissima Trinidada”
in size and splendour, displaying banners and streamers, and richly
painted and decorated according to the Spanish fashion, and all well
provided with men and ordnance.
Never before had such a superb fleet ploughed those waters; and when, at
a later hour in the day, the Lord High Admiral caught sight of it, he
was sore angered, and internally vowed to lower the Spaniard’s pride.
A soft westerly breeze filling the sails, impelled the ships gently on
their way, though the surface of the sea was but little agitated. Having
risen with the dawn, Philip was now on deck with the Duke of Alva,
enjoying the ravishing beauty of the morning, and gazing at the land he
was approaching. He could not help being struck by the bold outline and
precipitous cliffs of the island in his immediate vicinity, and noted
with wonder the tall sharp-pointed rocks, detached from these cliffs,
that sprang like pinnacles from the sea.
Passing the Needles, the fleet entered the Solent Sea. On a
far-projecting causeway on the left was Hurst Castle, a fortress erected
by Henry VIII., and on the right loomed Yarmouth, with its castle.
Salutes were fired from both forts. The scenery of the coast now
possessed great beauty. On the mainland, noble woods, forming part of
the New Forest, at that time of great extent, and full of deer, grew
down to the very margin of the lake-like sea; occasional creeks and
openings exhibiting sylvan scenes of extraordinary loveliness, and
affording glimpses of ancient towns or sequestered habitations. On the
other hand, the verdant slopes and groves of the island formed a
delicious picture wholly different from that presented by the bold
cliffs on its southern coast. Here all was softness and beauty, and to
eyes accustomed to the arid and sunburnt shores of Spain, such verdure
had an inexpressible charm.
For some time Philip remained wrapped in contemplation of the enchanting
scenery of the island, unable to withdraw his eyes from it. At last he
exclaimed, “And this is England! the land I have so longed to behold.
How deliciously green is yonder island, and what a contrast it offers to
our own coasts! And yon noble woods on the left, which they say are
those of the New Forest, where William Rufus hunted and was slain! What
magnificent timber! We have nothing like those oaks.”
“It may be not, your Highness,” replied Alva; “but I prefer our olives
and vines and chestnut-groves to those woods, and our bare brown
mountains to those green slopes. If the sun scorches our herbage and
burns our soil to brick-dust, it makes abundant compensation. We have
oil and wine and a thousand luxuries that these English lack, to say
nothing of our fiery men and dark-eyed women.”
“Your excellency is a true Spaniard,” replied the Prince; “but you
forget that as soon as I set foot on these shores I shall become an
Englishman.”
“Heaven forfend!” exclaimed Alva; then checking himself, he added, “I
crave your Highness’s pardon. Inasmuch as the country will belong to
you, you may be right to call yourself an Englishman.”
“But I shall be King of England only in name,” said Philip. “As you
know, I am debarred by the marriage-treaty from any share in the
government, neither can I appoint you, nor any of my nobles, to a post.”
“Out on the treaty!” cried Alva. “Your Highness, I trust, will little
regard its terms. Once wedded to the Queen of England, the country will
be under your control. This the Emperor well knew, or he would have
spurned the conditions proposed to him by the wily Gardiner. Bind you as
they may, the council cannot hold you fast, and ere long you will have
supreme sway. In two years’ time England will be as much a province of
Spain as the Netherlands is now. Then you will reap abundantly the
harvest you are sowing. Moreover, by that time the crown of Spain and
the imperial diadem may grace your brow.”
“Why do you think so, Alva?” demanded Philip, quickly. “My father
suffers much from gout; but gout, physicians tell me, keeps off all
other ailments, and those afflicted with it live long in consequence.
When he last wrote to me, the Emperor reported himself in good case.”
“Saints keep him so!” cried the Duke. “Yet, as I have just said, ere two
years are over, your Highness will surely be King of Spain and Emperor
of Germany.”
“What means this prediction?” inquired Philip looking inquiringly at
him.
“It means that the Emperor your father, tired with the cares of
government, designs to surrender his kingdoms to you.”
“Has he said aught of his intent to you, Alva?—or is it mere surmise on
your part?” demanded the Prince, unable to disguise the interest he took
in the question.
“Your Highness will excuse me if I decline to state how I obtained the
information,” rejoined the Duke; “but I will stake my life on its
correctness.”
Philip said nothing more, but remained for some time with his hand upon
his lips, absorbed in thought. The flush that overspread his cheeks
showed he was much excited. Alva kept his keen eye fixed upon him, and
seemed to read what was passing in his breast. After a while, Philip
broke the silence.
“It may be as you say,” he remarked; “yet I do not think my father will
part lightly with his crown. In a moment of weariness he may talk of
abdicating in my favour—but when the fit is over, the design will pass
away with it. How would he spend his days if not employed by state
affairs?”
“In retirement and holy meditation—in preparation for eternity. Such is
his Majesty’s intent.”
“If it be so it is a praiseworthy resolution; and it is to be hoped that
Heaven may keep him in it. However, all is uncertain—the firmest man may
change his mind.”
“Your Highness says right. Therefore, it will be well to secure a crown
in case of accident. Neither do I despair of your doing so. The English
nation, they say, hate us Spaniards. What matter? They cannot hate us
worse than we hate them. They fear our yoke. Let us give them reason for
their fears by ruling them so severely that they shall not dare to move
hand or foot, save at our pleasure. With such a people nothing but hard
and sanguinary measures will do. Their late King, Henry VIII., knew that
well, and his subjects obeyed him, crouching at his feet like beaten
hounds. But to impose our yoke upon them, we must go beyond the despot
Henry. We must pour forth the blood of the English nobles like water,
seize upon their possessions, and assume their titles. Do this,
extirpate heresy, establish the Inquisition, and your Highness need fear
no rebellion.”
Alva’s eyes blazed as he gave this counsel, and his countenance assumed
an expression so terrible that even Philip regarded him with awe.
“The time is not yet come for acting thus,” observed the Prince. “I must
first try to ingratiate myself with the people, and win over the council
and the nobles by gifts and promises. If those fail, I may have recourse
to other means.”
“There, to my mind, your Highness is wrong,” rejoined Alva. “Begin as
you mean to go on. You cannot make yourself beloved by this perfidious
nation, but you may easily make yourself dreaded. Hesitate not to shed
blood—the best blood. Strike boldly, and at the highest. If you have any
misgivings, let me do the work for you, and it shall be done
effectually. I shall not object to be grand justiciary of the realm.”
And again his features wore the terrible look we have just noticed.
“It is too soon to talk of this,” said Philip. “We will speak of it
hereafter.”
“It may then be too late,” rejoined Alva, in a sombre tone. “Once again,
I counsel your Highness not to delay. As soon as you are fairly wedded,
throw off the mask.”
“And be driven disgracefully from the kingdom,” cried Philip. “No; I
shall adopt a safer course. A time may come—and that at no distant
date—when I may profit by your counsels, and ask your aid.”
And he turned to watch the numerous white-sailed little barques steering
towards him from Portsmouth.
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