of proofs by which her criminal intimacy with Perez is established. We
may frankly admit, nevertheless, that the first perusal of the evidence
did not convince us. The probability was strong that much would be
exaggerated, perverted, and invented, before a partial tribunal, in
order to annihilate a disgraced courtier, a fallen and helpless enemy.
But the reasons which appear conclusively to fix culpability, will be
better understood when the facts of the case are stated. Every witness
must be branded with perjury to entitle us to doubt that the familiarity
of Perez with the princess had attracted observation. Escovedo was aware
of it, saw it, and denounced it. He remonstrated with both parties on
their guilt and on their danger. The appeals to conscience and to fear
were of unequal force. The guilt of their conduct was not likely to
excite, in a couple abandoned to the indulgence of a mutual and violent
passion, any emotion except anger against the honesty and audacity which
rebuked them. By a grave discourse on breaches of decorum and morality,
Escovedo ran the risk of being considered--what the princess actually
declared him to be--a rude fellow and a _bore_. But the danger of their
profligacy was a more delicate and ominous text for censure. In the
peril of any public exposure was involved an additional complication of
guilt. Perez was not the only favoured votary of the versatile siren.
His rival, or rather his partner, was--Philip of Spain! The revelation
of promiscuous worship, threatened by Escovedo, sounded like a knell to
Perez and the princess. Was it a mad defiance, or a profound prescience,
of the consequences, which, when Escovedo, stung on one occasion beyond
forbearance by the demonstration of iniquity which Othello in his agony
demands of Iago, declared loudly his purpose of divulging every thing to
the king?--was it, we say, the fury or the shrewdness of despair which
then drew _from the lady_ a reply of outrageous and coarse effrontery?
The irrecoverable words being spoken, we think, with M. Mignet, that
"the ruin of Escovedo, whose indiscretions were becoming formidable, was
doubtless sworn, from this moment, by Perez and the princess."
We shall now, with some consciousness of superiority over the German,
Feuerbach, whose common-place murders are flavourless for us, (who were
fellow-citizens of Burke, and rode in an omnibus with Greenacre, just as
Bacon had Perez for a coach-companion,) transcribe the minute continuous
narrative of the assassination of Escovedo, taken down from the lips of
Antonio Enriquez, the page and familiar of Antonio Perez:--
"'Being one day at leisure in the apartment of Diego Martinez the
major-domo of Antonio Perez, Diego asked me whether I knew any of
my countrymen who would be willing to stab a person with a knife.
He added, that it would be profitable and well paid, and that, even
if death resulted from the blow, it was of no consequence. I
answered, that I would speak of it to a mule-driver of my
acquaintance, as in fact I did, and the muleteer undertook the
affair. Afterwards, Diego Martinez gave me to understand, with
rather puzzling reasons, that it would be necessary to kill the
individual, who was a person of importance, and that Antonio Perez
would approve of it; on this I remarked that it was not an affair
to be trusted to a muleteer, but to persons of a better stamp. Then
Diego Martinez added, that the person to be killed often came to
the house, and that, if we could put any thing in his food or
drink, we must do so; because that was the best, surest, and most
secret means. It was resolved to have recourse to this method, and
with all dispatch.
"'During these transactions, I had occasion to go to Murcia. Before
my departure, I spoke of it to Martinez, who told me I should find,
in Murcia, certain herbs well adapted to our purpose; and he gave
me a list of those which I was to procure. In fact, I sought them
out and sent them to Martinez, who had provided himself with an
apothecary, whom he had sent for from Molina in Aragon. It was in
my house that the apothecary, assisted by Martinez, distilled the
juice of those herbs. In order to make an experiment of it
afterwards, they made a cock swallow some, but no effect followed;
and what they had thus prepared, was found to be good for nothing.
The apothecary was then paid for his trouble, and sent away.
"'A few days after, Martinez told me he had in his possession a
certain liquid fit to be given to drink, adding that Antonio Perez,
the secretary, would trust nobody but me, and that, during a repast
which our master was to give in the country, I should only have to
pour out some of this water for Escovedo, who would be among the
guests, and for whom the preceding experiments had already been
tried. I answered, that unless my master himself gave me the order,
I would not have a hand in poisoning any body. Then the secretary,
Anthony Perez, called me one evening in the country, and told me
how important it was for him that the secretary Escovedo should
die; that I must not fail to give him the beverage in question on
the day of the dinner: and that I was to contrive the execution of
it with Martinez; adding, moreover, good promises and offers of
protection in whatever might concern me.
"'I went away very contented, and consulted with Martinez as to the
measures to be taken. The arrangement for the dinner was as
follows: entering the house by the passage of the stables, which
are in the middle, and advancing into the first room, we found two
side-boards, one for the service of plates, and the other for that
of the glasses, from which we were to supply the guests with drink.
From the said room, on the left, we passed to that where the tables
were laid, and the windows of which looked out on the country.
Between the room where they were to dine, and that where the
side-boards stood, was a square room, serving as an antechamber and
passage. Whilst they were eating, I was to take care that every
time the secretary Escovedo asked for drink, I should be the person
to serve him. I had thus the opportunity of giving him some twice;
pouring the poisoned water into his wine at the moment I passed
through the antechamber, about a nutshell-full, as I had been
ordered. The dinner over, secretary Escovedo went away, but the
others remained to play, and Antonio Perez having gone out for a
moment, rejoined his major-domo and me in one of the apartments
over the court-yard, where we gave him an account of the quantity
of water that had been poured into secretary Escovedo's glass;
after which, he returned to play. We heard, afterwards, that the
beverage had produced no effect.
"'A few days subsequent to this ill success, secretary Antonio
Perez gave another dinner in what is called Cordon House, which
belonged to the count of Punon Rostro, where secretary Escovedo,
Dona Juana Coello, the wife of Perez, and other guests, were
present. Each of them was served with a dish of milk or cream, and
in Escovedo's was mixed a powder like flour. I gave him, moreover,
some wine mixed with the water of the preceding dinner. This time
it operated better, for secretary Escovedo was very ill, without
guessing the reason. During his illness, I found means for one of
my friends, the son of captain Juan Rubio, governor of the
principality of Melfi, and formerly Perez's major-domo (which son,
after having been page to Dona Juana Coello, was a scullion in the
king's kitchens), to form an acquaintance with secretary Escovedo's
cook, whom he saw every morning. Now, as they prepared for the sick
man a separate broth, this scullion, taking advantage of a moment
when nobody saw him, cast into it a thimble-full of a powder that
Diego Martinez had given him. When secretary Escovedo had taken
some of this food, they found that it contained poison. They
subsequently arrested one of Escovedo's female slaves who must have
been employed to prepare the pottage; and, upon this proof, they
hung her in the public square at Madrid, though she was innocent.
"'Secretary Escovedo having escaped all these plottings, Antonio
Perez adopted another plan, viz., that we should kill him some
evening with pistols, stilettoes, or rapiers, and that without
delay. I started, therefore, for my country, to find one of my
intimate friends, and a stiletto with a very thin blade, a much
better weapon than a pistol for murdering a man. I travelled post,
and they gave me some bills of exchange of Lorenzo Spinola at
Genoa, to get money at Barcelona, and which, in fact, I received on
arriving there.'
"Here Enriquez relates, that he enticed into the plot one of his
brothers, named Miguel Bosque, to whom he promised a sum of gold
and the protection of Perez; that they arrived at Madrid the very
day Escovedo's slave was hanged; that, during his absence, Diego
Martinez had fetched from Aragon, for the same object, two resolute
men, named Juan de Mesa and Insausti; that the very day after his
arrival, Diego Martinez had assembled them all four, as well as the
scullion Juan Rubio, outside Madrid, to decide as to the means and
the moment of the murder; that they had agreed upon this, that
Diego Martinez had procured them a sword, broad and fluted up to
the point, to kill Escovedo with, and had armed them all with
daggers; and that Antonio Perez had gone, during that time, to pass
the holy week at Alcala, doubtless with the intention of turning
suspicion from him when the death of Escovedo was ascertained. Then
Antonio Enriquez adds:--
"'It was agreed, that we should all meet every evening upon the
little square of Saint James (Jacobo), whence we should go and
watch on the side by which secretary Escovedo was to pass; which
was done. Insausti, Juan Rubio, and Miguel Bosque, were to waylay
him; while Diego Martinez, Juan de Mesa, and I, were to walk about
in the neighbourhood, in case our services should be required in
the murder. On Easter Monday, March 31, the day the murder was
committed, Juan de Mesa and I were later than usual in repairing to
the appointed spot, so that, when we arrived at St James's Square,
the four others had already started to lie in ambush for the
passing of secretary Escovedo. Whilst we were loitering about, Juan
de Mesa and I heard the report that Escovedo had been assassinated.
We then retired to our lodgings. Entering my room, I found Miguel
Bosque there, in his doublet, having lost his cloak and pistol; and
Juan de Mesa found, likewise, Insausti at his door, who had also
lost his cloak, and whom he let secretly into his house.'"
The quiet pertinacity which characterizes this deliberate murder adds a
creditable chapter to the voluminous "Newgate Calendar" of the sixteenth
century. The murderers--first, second, third, and fourth--having
executed their commission, were rewarded with a dramatic appreciation of
their merits. Miguel Bosque received a hundred gold crowns from the hand
of the clerk in the household of Perez. Juan de Mesa was presented with
a gold chain, four hundred gold crowns, and a silver cup, to which the
Princess of Eboli added, in writing, a title of employment in the
administration of her estates. Diego Martinez brought to the three
others brevets, signed nineteen days after this deed of blood, by Philip
II. and Perez, of _alfarez_, or ensign in the royal service, with an
income of twenty gold crowns. They then smilingly dispersed, as the play
directs, "you that way, I this way."
Such blood will not sink in the ground. Instantly, at a private audience
granted to him by Philip, the son of Escovedo, impelled by a torrent of
universal suspicion, charged his father's death home to Perez. On the
same day, Philip communicated to Perez the accusation. No pictorial art,
we are sure, could exhibit truly the faces of these two men, speaking
and listening, at that conference. This, however, was the last gleam of
his sovereign's confidence that ever shone on Perez. His secret and
mortal enemy, Mathew Vasquez, one of the royal secretaries, having
espoused the cause of the kinsmen of Escovedo, wrote to Philip, "People
pretend that it was a great friend of the deceased who assassinated the
latter, because he had found him interfering with his honour, and _on
account of a woman_." The barbed missile flew to its mark, and rankled
for ever.
Our limits preclude the most concise epitome of the next twelve years of
the life of Perez, of which the protracted tribulations, indeed, cannot
be related more succinctly and attractively than they are by M. Mignet.
During this weary space of time, Perez, single-handed, maintained an
energetic defensive warfare against the disfavour of a vindictive
monarch, the oppression of predominant rivals, the insidious
machinations and wild fury of relentless private revenge, the most
terrific mockeries of justice, the blackest mental despondency, and
exquisite physical suffering. Philip II. displayed all his atrocious
feline propensities--alternately hiding and baring his claws--tickling
his victim to-day with delusions of mercy and protection, in order to
smite him on the morrow with heavier and unmitigated cruelty. The truth
is, he did not dare to kill, while he had no desire to save. Over and
over again, in the course of the monstrous burlesques which were enacted
in judicial robes as legal inquiries, did Philip privately, both orally
and in writing, exonerate and absolve the murderer. Prosecutors and
judges were bridled and overawed--kinsmen were abashed--popular
indignation was quelled by reiterated assurances and reports, that the
confidential secretary of state had been the passive and faithful
executioner of royal commands. Even Uncle Martin, the privileged
court-fool, when the flight ultimately of Perez gave general
satisfaction, though not to the implacable Philip, exclaimed
openly--"Sire, who is this Antonio Perez, whose escape and deliverance
have filled every one with delight? He cannot, then, have been guilty;
rejoice, therefore, like other people." But the lucky rival--the happy
lover, could not expiate his rank offence by any amount of sacrifice in
person or estate. According to our view of these lingering scenes of
rancorous persecution, Philip gradually habituated himself to gloat over
the sufferings of Perez with the morbid rapture of monomania. So long as
the wretched man was within his reach, he contemplated placidly the
anguish inflicted on him by the unjust or excessive malevolence of his
enemies. He repeatedly checked the prosecutions of the Escovedo family,
and sanctioned their revival with as little difficulty as if he had
never interposed on any former occasion. He relaxed at intervals the
rigorous imprisonment under which Perez was gasping for the breath of
life, granting him for nearly a twelvemonth so much liberty as to
inflate a naturally buoyant temperament with inordinate hope; but, in
that very period, instigated and approved of investigations and actions
at law, which resulted in reducing Perez, in so far as wealth and
honours were concerned, to beggary and rags. He threw into a dungeon
Pedro de Escovedo, who talked unreservedly of his desire to assassinate
Perez; and refused the fervent entreaties of Perez himself to remove,
for a temporary relief, the fetters with which, when his ailing body
could scarcely support its own weight, his limbs had been loaded. He
sent Perez compassionate and encouraging messages, writing to him, "I
will not forsake you, and be assured that their animosity (of the
Escovedos) will be impotent against you;" while he regularly transmitted
to Vasquez and the Escovedos the information which nourished and
hardened their hatred. And finally, having constantly enjoined Perez to
take heed that no one should discover the murder to have been
perpetrated by the king, Philip, on the ground that he obstinately
refused to make a full confession, imperturbably consigned him "to that
dreadful proof, the revolting account of which," says M. Mignet, "I will
quote from the process itself:"--
"At the same instant, the said judges replied to him that the
proofs still remaining in all their force and vigour ..., they
ordered him to be put to the torture to make him declare what the
king required; that if he lost his life, or the use of some limbs,
it would be his own fault; and that he alone would be responsible.
He repeated, once more, his former assertions, and protested,
moreover, against the use of torture towards him, for these two
reasons: first, because he was of a noble family; and secondly,
because his life would be endangered, since he was already disabled
by the effects of his eleven years' imprisonment. The two judges
then ordered his irons and chain to be taken off; requiring him to
take an oath and declare whatever he was asked. Upon his refusal,
Diego Ruis, the executioner, stripped him of his garments, and left
him only his linen drawers. The executioner having afterwards
retired, they told him once more to obey the king's orders, on pain
of suffering torture _by the rope_. He repeated once more that he
said what he had already said. Immediately the ladder and apparatus
of torture having been brought, Diego Ruis, the executioner,
crossed the arms of Antonio Perez, one over the other; and they
proceeded to give him one twist of the rope. He uttered piercing
cries, saying: _Jesus! that he had nothing to declare; that he had
only to die in torture; that he would say nothing; and that he
would die._ This he repeated many times. By this time they had
already given him four turns of the rope; and the judges having
returned to summon him to declare what they wanted of him, he said,
with many shrieks and exclamations, _that he had nothing to say;
that they were breaking his arm. Good God! I have lost the use of
one arm; the doctors know it well._ He added with groans: _Ah!
Lord, for the love of God!... They have crushed my hand, by the
living God!_ He said, moreover: _Senor Juan Gomez, you are a
Christian; my brother, for the love of God, you are killing me, and
I have nothing to declare._ The judges replied again, that he must
make the declarations they wanted; but he only repeated: _Brother,
you are killing me! Senor Juan Gomez, by our Saviour's wounds, let
them finish me with one blow!... Let them leave me, I will say
whatever they will; for God's sake, brother, have compassion on
me!_ At the same time, he entreated them to relieve him from the
position in which he was placed, and to give him his clothes,
saying, he would speak. This did not happen until he had suffered
eight turns of the rope; and the executioner being then ordered to
leave the room where they had used the torture, Perez remained
alone with the licentiate Juan Gomez and the scrivener Antonio
Marquez."
The impunity of tyranny was over-strained. The tide of sympathy
fluctuated, and ebbed with murmuring agitation from the channel in which
it had flowed so long with a steady current. Jesters and preachers
uttered homely truths--the nobles trembled--and the people shuddered.
With a few intelligible exceptions, there was a burst of general
satisfaction when, on the 20th April 1591, two months after his torture,
Perez, by the aid of his intrepid and devoted wife--(and shall we be too
credulous in adding, with the connivance of his guards?)--broke his
bonds, fled from Castile, and set his foot on the soil of independent
Aragon.
Let us now, for a moment, reconsider the motives which solve, as they
guided, at once the indefensible guilt of Perez, and the malignant
perfidy of Philip. The King of Spain unquestionably ordered the murder
of Escovedo, and confided its perpetration to the docile secretary. But
the death-warrant slumbered for a while in the keeping of the
executioner. It was not until Escovedo acquired his perilous knowledge
of the debaucheries of Perez and the Princess of Eboli, and had avowed
his still more perilous resolution of publishing their frailty in a
quarter where detection was ruin, that Perez plied with inflexible
diligence artifice and violence, poison and dagger--to satisfy,
coincidently, himself and his sovereign. By a similar infusion of
emotions, roused by later occurrences, the feelings of Philip towards
Perez underwent, after the murder, a radical change. He at first
unhesitatingly joined, as we have seen, in rewarding the actual
murderers. The tale of the preference lavished by beauty on his minion
had not seared his heart-strings. With that revelation came the mood of
inexpiable hate. A word from him, uttered with unequivocal emphasis,
would have cleared and rescued Perez. Such words, indeed, he pronounced
more than once; but never as he would have done, if their effect had
been to screen merely the faithful minister of state. The object in
their occasional recurrence was one of profound dissimulation. Philip's
design was to lull the alarm of Perez, and to recover out of his hands
every scrap of written evidence which existed, implicating himself in
the death of Escovedo. And it was under an erroneous impression of his
efforts having been at length completely triumphant, that he sent Perez
to the torture, with a foregone determination of killing him with the
sword of justice, as a slanderous traitor, who could not adduce a tittle
of proof to support his falsehood.
But the wit of Perez was as penetrating as Philip's, and had avoided the
snare. Retaining adroitly, in authentic documents, ample materials for
his own defence, and the inculpation of the king, Perez fought
undauntedly and successfully his battle, on the charge of Escovedo's
murder, before the tribunals of Aragon, which were either ignorant of,
or indifferent to, the scandals and personal criminalities inseparably
mixed up with the case at Madrid. The retributive justice which had
overwhelmed Perez in his person and circumstances in Castile, now
descended on the reputation of Philip in Aragon, who was likewise not
only obliged to hear of the acquittal of his detested foe by the supreme
court there, but necessitated, by the tremendous statements promulgated
by Perez as his justification, founded on unimpeachable writings in his
possession, to drop and relinquish all legal proceedings.
The bitterness of the cup of woe, however, it had still been in the
power of the fierce despot otherwise to deepen. Infuriated by the flight
of Perez, the king caused the wife, then pregnant, and the children of
the fugitive, to be arrested and cast into the public prison, dragging
them "on the day when it is usual to pardon the very worst of criminals,
at the very hour of the procession of the penitents on Holy Thursday,
with a reckless disregard of custom and decency, among the crosses and
all the corteges of this solemnity, in order that there might be no lack
of witnesses for this glorious action." These words we have cited from a
famous narrative subsequently published by Perez in England, from which
we are also tempted to extract, in relation to the same occurrence, the
following passage, full of that energetic eloquence which contributed,
among other causes, to win over general commiseration to the writer:--