scarcely those of sanity; but these constant outrages were regarded by his father as indignities offered to himself. The breach between them was gradually growing wider, and, though living in the same palace, they did not speak to each other.

Philip seems to have been jealous of his son; the latter desired to be admitted to some share of the government, or to be appointed to a military command, but the king would permit neither, always regarding him with suspicion, perhaps on account of the reports of his proceedings, which were faithfully detailed by the attendants placed around the infante.

As to the accounts of the amours between Don Carlos and his step-mother, there seems to be absolutely no foundation for them.

Isabella, indeed, always showed an affection for the prince, and she was one of the few persons whom he trusted; but there is not the slightest evidence that, in thought or deed, she was ever unfaithful to Philip. The sad occurrence of her own death following quickly on that of her unfortunate stepson, gave the poets and romancists the idea that they had both fallen victims to the jealous vengeance of the husband and father.

Carlos could not have been without some redeeming traits, for he inspired affection in the breasts of several persons. His aunt Joanna, his uncle Don John of Austria, his great-aunt the queen of Portugal, the Emperor Maximilian and his empress, parents of Anne of Austria, all, as well as Isabella, regarded him with warm affection, while many of his personal attendants were devoted to him.

There is not much doubt that Carlos was an unmanageable person, and Philip viewed with great displeasure the various excesses in which he indulged. It is equally true the infante hated his father cordially, and chafed under parental restraint.

against him, Carlos determined to fly to some foreign land. He began a secret correspondence with the leaders of the revolt in the provinces, offering to put himself at their head.

Carlos had no money for such an expedition, so he sent a confidential agent, to try to raise the sum required, by obtaining loans from different cities.

Meanwhile Philip informed by his spies, either really believed or affected to believe, that his life was in danger from his son. A circumstance that now occurred, if true, for the whole affair is wrapped in mystery which has never yet been unravelled, would seem to justify the king's suspicions. It was at Christmas, 1567; for some days Carlos had no rest, and was frequently repeating that "he desired to kill a man with whom he had a quarrel." He intimated the same thing to Don John, his uncle, but without revealing the name of his intended victim. On Innocents' day the royal family always took the sacrament in public. Confession was necessary before this, so that absolution might be given. Carlos horrified his confessor by avowing his murderous design, whereupon the latter refused absolution. The prince demanded that at least he might receive an unconsecrated wafer, in order to avoid the scandal that would be occasioned by his not receiving the sacrament with the others, but this was also refused. Several divines were called in, and it is said that one, the prior of Atocha, managed to draw from Carlos the name of the man he wished to kill, and that it was his father. The confessor immediately repaired to the king with his news.

than a madman's ravings-he should be condemned to death.

It is hard to know at this distance of time what feelings really actuated Philip with regard to his unfortunate son. He had prayers put up in the different monasteries for the guidance of Heaven in this momentous affair. He wrote to Pius the Fifth that, "he was obliged to imprison his son, but promised that he would in the conduct of the affair, omit nothing which could be expected of a father and of a just and prudent king." In a letter to his aunt Queen Catherine of Portugal, he declares that "like Abraham he was prepared to go all lengths in obedience to the Lord. I have chosen in this matter," he writes, "to make the sacrifice to God of my own flesh and blood, and to prefer his service and the universal welfare to all other considerations."

There is a hypocritical ring about this letter. Carlos was proving himself a nuisance, and Philip thought it was better to put him out of the way.

Some time before, when Don Carlos de Siso, a noble Florentine, exclaimed to him on his way to execution, "Is it thus that you allow your innocent subjects to be persecuted?" Philip replied, "If it were my own son, I would fetch the wood to burn him, were he such a wretch as thou art."

Philip was capable of committing any crime, and he thoroughly understood the art of secret midnight murder. "The elaborate and ingenious method by which the assassination of Montigny was accomplished was kept a profound secret from the whole world, until the letters of the royal assassin, after three centuries' repose, were exhumed, and the foul mystery was revealed."

Philip declared that it was the stern pressure of necessity alone, that drove him to deal in this way with his firstborn, his only son. "It was with unspeakable anguish that he at last resolved to place his son under restraint."

If Philip professed to be afraid of assassination at the hands of his son, Carlos on his part felt insecure in his father's palace. He slept with two pistols under his pillow, his sword and

dagger at his side, and two loaded muskets in a wardrobe close at hand. He made the celebrated French engineer, Louis de Foix, construct a bolt with pulleys to the door of his sleepingchamber so that it could not be opened from outside, but which he could open or shut by means of the pulleys, without rising from his bed. These precautions seem to show that he did not consider his life safe, and the sequel proved him to be not far wrong.

About the middle of January, 1568, the prince's agent returned with only a fourth of the amount of money Carlos had demanded. But he determined to fly with it. Having completed his preparations, he communicated his intentions to his uncle and besought him to accompany him. In vain Don John expostulated with him on his folly, and, fearing the consequences that might ensue, the future hero of Lepanto informed his brother, Philip, of his nephew's mad scheme. Carlos was furious when Don John informed him of what he had done, and attacked his uncle violently with his sword. Don John was forced to draw to defend himself, but the noise of the skirmish drew the notice of the attendants, and they rushed in and enabled Don John to retreat. Philip thought it was high time for him to interfere. He forced De Foix to disarrange the mechanism of the bolt and pulleys, so that the door could be opened from without.

Carlos intended to put his design of taking flight into execution on the 17th of January, and he ordered the directorgeneral of the posts to have eight horses in readiness for him that evening. Don Ramon de Tassis, suspecting all was not right, sent word that all the horses were out, and then hastened to the king.

The monarch then consulted the Holy Office, and the resolution was taken to arrest his son. Those who beheld Philip in the audience-chamber, on the morning of the 18th, saw no sign of any disturbance on his serene countenance, though he had determined that very night to make Carlos a prisoner. It was between eleven and twelve

o'clock that the king, wearing armor, and with his head protected by a helmet, entered the prince's chamber. He was accompanied by the Duke of Feria, captain of the guard, the Prince of Eboli, the Count Lerma and two other nobles, and twelve privates of the guard. Carlos slept so heavily that Count Lerma had no difficulty in removing the firearms from under his pillow and the wardrobe. Then by the king's orders he was awakened from his heavy sleep.

Starting up in bed, and seeing his father he cried out "that he was a dead man."

Philip bade him be quiet, "that he had not come to kill him, but to chastise him paternally for his own good." Then the king ordered the doors and windows to be strongly secured and the keys to be delivered to him.

Carlos, probably having a shrewd notion of what he had to expect from the paternal justice, exclaimed:

"Kill me, rather than keep me prisoner. If you do not, I will make away with myself."

"You will do no such thing," answered his father, "for that would be the act of a madman."

"Your majesty," said the unhappy young man in a voice choked by sobs, "treats me so ill that you force me to this extremity. I am not mad, but you drive me to despair."

But Philip was not to be moved from his purpose by tears or entreaties. He had a coffer containing the papers of Don Carlos, seized. He had the whole of the furniture, even to the andirons, removed from the chamber; this was ostensibly to prevent Carlos from committing violence either upon himself or upon others. The prisoner was forced to array himself in mourning garments and to sleep upon a truckle bed. All his personal attendants were removed and guards put in their places.

of

Carlos was never to be alone; two lords, out of six named for the purpose, performed the duty in rotation in him, remaining his watching chamber day and night. His meat was cut up before it was brought to him,

as he was allowed no knife at his meals. All communication from without was cut off. He could not even look from his strongly-barricaded windows. He was dead to the world. The unhappy prisoner, even were he not mad before, was driven so by his rigorous confinement. He tried to commit suicide. Owing to his complaining so much of the cold, he was allowed to have a brazier in his apartment. He threw himself naked into this, and it was with considerable difficulty that his guards rescued him. He attempted to choke himself with a diamond but was prevented by those around him. Then he tried to starve himself, and remained without food for several days, some say for eleven, though others put it at seven and three.

The mental excitement under which he labored combined with the want of air and exercise, produced its natural effect on his never robust constitution. Every day he became more emaciated, while the fever to which he had long been a victim now burned more fiercely than ever in his veins. To allay it he chose some strange remedies, not a little to the inconvenience of his companions. He deluged the floor with cold water, and walked about for hours, half naked and with bare feet, in it. He had a warming-pan filled with ice and snow introduced into his bed and let it remain there for hours together. He sat in cold draughts, and drank gallons of iced water. After being several days without food he would go to the other extreme, and devour a pastry of four partridges, with all the paste, at a sitting, washing it down with three gallons of his favorite iced water. He ate sixteen pounds of fruit, including four pounds of grapes, at one meal, and was ill in consequence.

According to De Thou, Philip, seeing his son thus desperate, consulted once more with the Holy Office, and came to the decision that it was better to condemn him legitimately to death rather than to permit him to die by his own hand. In order, however, to save appearances, the order was secretly carried into execution.

Don Carlos was made to swallow poison in a bowl of broth, of which he died in a few hours. His death was concealed for several months, and was not made public till after Alva's victory at Jemmingen.

Such was De Thou's account, but the tragedy of Don Carlos's death is wrapped in impenetrable mystery. At least half-a-dozen different versions of the manner in which he came by his death are recorded. Probably the letter Philip wrote in cipher to the pope contains the true account, but that has never been unearthed.

One writer says his veins were opened in a warm bath, so that he might bleed to death. Another gives strangling as the mode of execution, two slaves holding his arms, another his feet, while the fourth applied the fatal cord. Brantôme asserts that after his condemnation Carlos was found dead in his chamber smothered by a towel.

Antonio Perez, one of the household of the Prince of Eboli, informs us that -"As the king had found Carlos guilty, he was condemned to death by inquisitors. But in order that the execution of this sentence might not be brought too palpably before the public, they mixed, for four months together, a slow poison in his food." This account receives some confirmation from a letter written by the French minister, Fourquevaulx, about a month after the prince's arrest. "The prince," he writes, "becomes visibly thinner and more dried up; and his eyes are sunk in his head. They give him sometimes strong soups and capon broths, in which amber and other nourishing things are dissolved, that he may not wholly lose his strength and fall into decrepitude. These soups are prepared privately in the chamber of Ruy Gomez, through which one passes into that of the prince."

The Prince of Orange did not hesitate to denounce Philip as the murderer of both his wife and his son. But then; as he was at enmity with the king of Spain, he might be looked upon as a prejudiced witness.

One writer asserted that the only liberty granted to Carlos was that of selecting the manner of his death out of several kinds that were proposed to him.

But with all this there was no positive proof that Philip committed the atrocious crime of murdering his unhappy son, though dark suspicions were rife Immediately after the death of the prince was known.

The arrest of Don Carlos caused a great sensation throughout the country, and the wildest rumors were afloat as to the cause. For some days Philip would allow no post to leave Madrid. He wished to give his own version of the affair. On the 24th he despatched circular letters to the great ecclesiastics, the grandees, and municipalities of the chief cities of the kingdom. On the same day he sent despatches to the principal courts of Europe.

Whatever were the offences of Carlos, it soon became evident that it was never intended to allow him to regain his liberty, or mount the throne of his ancestors. His confinement was most rigorous, the nobles who guarded him being forbidden to speak to him on any matters relating to the government, or to bring any messages to him, and bear none from him to the world without. No works were allowed him except those of a devotional character, and no persons but his physician and his valet were allowed into his apartment besides those nobles who had the care of him. These severe rules were strictly observed.

The queen of Portugal wrote to the king to be permitted to remain with her grandson in his confinement and take charge of him. Philip promptly vetoed this arrangement.

Isabella, the prisoner's step-mother, and his aunt Joanna, who were deeply afflicted by the course taken with the prince, made ineffectual attempts to be allowed to visit him in his confinement. Isabella was so much pained by the prince's arrest, that she wept for two days over his misfortunes, until forbidden by her husband to weep any longer.

Isabella seems to have been of a gentle, amiable temperament and to have pitied her step-son sincerely. She wished to have him married to her sister, as she thought her gentleness might tone down his wildness.

After the death of Carlos a paper was found among those seized, in which he assigned the first places among his friends to his step-mother and his uncle, Don John of Austria.

The latter seems to have entertained an affection for his wayward nephew, and when he heard of the latter's arrest he came to the palace dressed in a suit of mourning, to testify his grief. Philip was greatly displeased, and coldly rebuked his brother, and ordered him to change his mourning for his ordinary dress. Don John, likewise, was denied all access to the prisoner. Philip evidently did not like to be condoled with under his affliction. When several of the great towns were preparing to send their deputies to inquire into the cause of the prince's imprisonment, their project was nipped in the bud by the king, who curtly gave them to understand that he wanted none of their condolences or interference. It soon came to be understood that Don Carlos was a subject not to be talked about.

The king was almost as much a prisoner as his son. He was afraid to go out, being constantly haunted by the apprehension of some outbreak among the people, to effect the captive's escape. When he heard any unusual noise in the palace, he would go to the window, to see if the tumult were not occasioned by an attempt to release the prisoner. He had a process drawn up against Carlos immediately after his arrest. The special commission to try him consisted of Cardinal Espinosa, the Prince of Eboli, and a royal councillor, Bribiesca de Muñatones, who was appointed to prepare the indictment. The prince was accused of treason in both the first and second degree, as having endeavored to compass the death of the king, his father, and as having conspired to usurp the sovereignty of Flanders. In this trial no counsel or evidence appeared on behalf

of the prisoner, though a formidable amount of testimony was collected against him. No notice even was given to the unhappy captive that such a trial was proceeding.

Llorente, who was secretary to the Inquisition, gives a remarkable account of the tragedy of Don Carlos, but some say that he was not an altogether trustworthy historian, though as secretary to the Inquisition he had access to valuable papers. He established the fact that the Holy Office instituted no process against Carlos.

According to the secretary the process that Philip had instituted against his son, was brought to a close only a short time before the latter's death.

Muñatones, in his report to the king, stated that the penalty for these crimes was death, but his Majesty, by his sovereign authority, might decide that the heir apparent was placed by his rank above the reach of ordinary laws. And it was further in his power to | mitigate or dispense with any penalty whatever, when he considered it for the good of his subjects. Ruy Gomez and Espinoza concurred in this judgment.

Not so Philip. He declared, "that though his feelings moved him to follow the suggestions of his ministers, his conscience would not permit it. He could not think that he should consult the good of his people by placing over them a monarch so vicious in his disposition, and so fierce and sanguinary in his temper as Carlos. However agonizing it might be to his feelings as a father, he must allow the law to take its course. Yet, after all, it might not be necessary to proceed to this extremity. The prince's health was in so critical a state, that if the precautions in regard to his diet were relaxed, his excesses would soon conduct him to the tomb!" One point only, the king laid stress on, that was that Carlos should be so well advised of his situation, that he should be willing to confess, and make his peace with heaven before he died. This was the greatest proof of love which he could give to his son and to the Spanish nation.