Читать книгу History of the Reign of Philip the Second, King of Spain, Vols. 1 and 2 - William Hickling Prescott - Страница 19

Table of Contents

WAR WITH FRANCE.

Extraordinary Efforts of France.—Calais surprised by Guise.—The French invade Flanders.—Bloody Battle of Gravelines.—Negotiations for Peace.—Mary's Death.—Accession of Elizabeth.—Treaty of Cateau-Cambresis.

1557–1559.

The state of affairs in France justified Philip's conclusions in respect to the loyalty of the people. No sooner did Henry the Second receive tidings of the fatal battle of St. Quentin, than he despatched couriers in all directions, summoning his chivalry to gather round his banner, and calling on the towns for aid in his extremity. The nobles and cavaliers promptly responded to the call, flocking in with their retainers; and not only the large towns, but those of inferior size, cheerfully submitted to be heavily taxed for the public service. Paris nobly set the example. She did not exhaust her zeal in processions of the clergy, headed by the queen and the royal family, carrying with them relics from the different churches. All the citizens capable of bearing arms enrolled themselves for the defence of the capital; and large appropriations were made for strengthening Montmartre, and for defraying the expenses of the war.[229]

CALAIS SURPRISED BY GUISE.

With these and other resources at his command, Henry was speedily enabled to subsidize a large body of Swiss and German mercenaries. The native troops serving abroad were ordered home. The veteran Marshal Termes came, with a large corps, from Tuscany, and the duke of Guise returned, with the remnant of his battalions, from Rome. This popular commander was welcomed with enthusiasm. The nation seemed to look to him as to the deliverer of the country. His late campaign in the kingdom of Naples was celebrated as if it had been a brilliant career of victory. He was made lieutenant-general of the army, and the oldest captains were proud to take service under so renowned a chief.

The government was not slow to profit by the extraordinary resources thus placed at its disposal. Though in the depth of winter, it was resolved to undertake some enterprise that should retrieve the disasters of the late campaign, and raise the drooping spirits of the nation. The object proposed was the recovery of Calais, that strong place, which for more than two centuries had remained in possession of the English.

The French had ever been keenly sensible to the indignity of an enemy thus planting his foot immovably, as it were, on their soil. They had looked to the recovery of Calais with the same feelings with which the Spanish Moslems, when driven into Africa, looked to the recovery of their ancient possessions in Granada. They showed how constantly this was in their thoughts, by a common saying respecting any commander whom they held lightly, that he was "not a man to drive the English out of France."[230] The feelings they entertained, however, were rather those of desire than of expectation. The place was so strong, so well garrisoned, and so accessible to the English, that it seemed impregnable. These same circumstances, and the long possession of the place, had inspired the English, on the other hand, with no less confidence, as was pretty well intimated by an inscription on the bronze gates of the town—"When the French besiege Calais, lead and iron will swim like cork."[231] This confidence, as it often happens, proved their ruin.

The bishop of Acqs, the French envoy to England, on returning home, a short time before this, had passed through Calais, and gave a strange report of the decay of the works, and the small number of the garrison, in short, of the defenceless condition of the place. Guise, however, as cautious as he was brave, was unwilling to undertake so hazardous an enterprise without more precise information. When satisfied of the fact, he entered on the project with his characteristic ardor. The plan adopted was said to have been originally suggested by Coligni. In order to deceive the enemy, the duke sent the largest division of the army, under Nevers, in the direction of Luxemburg. He then marched with the remainder into Picardy, as if to menace one of the places conquered by the Spaniards. Soon afterwards the two corps united, and Guise, at the head of his whole force, by a rapid march, presented himself before the walls of Calais.

The town was defended by a strong citadel, and by two forts. One of these, commanding the approach by water, the duke stormed and captured on the second of January, 1558. The other, which overlooked the land, he carried on the following day. Possessed of these two forts, he felt secure from any annoyance by the enemy, either by land or by water. He then turned his powerful battering-train against the citadel, keeping up a furious cannonade by day and by night. On the fifth, as soon as a breach was opened, the victorious troops poured in, and, overpowering the garrison, planted the French colors on the walls. The earl of Wentworth, who commanded in Calais, unable, with his scanty garrison, to maintain the place now that the defences were in the hands of the enemy, capitulated on the eighth. The fall of Calais was succeeded by that of Guisnes and of Hames. Thus, in a few days the English were stripped of every rood of the territory which they had held in France since the time of Edward the Third.

The fall of Calais caused the deepest sensation on both sides of the Channel. The English, astounded by the event, loudly inveighed against the treachery of the commander. They should rather have blamed the treachery of their own government, who had so grossly neglected to provide for the defence of the place. Philip, suspecting the designs of the French, had intimated his suspicions to the English government, and had offered to strengthen the garrison by a reinforcement of his own troops. But his allies, perhaps distrusting his motives, despised his counsel, or at least failed to profit by it.[232] After the place was taken, he made another offer to send a strong force to recover it, provided the English would support him with a sufficient fleet. This also, perhaps from the same feeling of distrust, though on the plea of inability to meet the expense, was declined, and the opportunity for the recovery of Calais was lost for ever.[233]

Yet, in truth, it was no great loss to the nation. Like more than one, probably, of the colonial possessions of England at the present day, Calais cost every year more than it was worth. Its chief value was the facility it afforded for the invasion of France. Yet such a facility for war with their neighbors, always too popular with the English before the time of Philip the Second, was of questionable value. The real injury from the loss of Calais was the wound which it inflicted on the national honor.

The exultation of the French was boundless. It could not well have been greater, if the duke of Guise had crossed the Channel and taken London itself. The brilliant and rapid manner in which the exploit had been performed, the gallantry with which the young general had exposed his own person in the assault, the generosity with which he had divided his share of the booty among the soldiers, all struck the lively imagination of the French; and he became more than ever the idol of the people.

Yet, during the remainder of the campaign, his arms were not crowned with such distinguished success. In May he marched against the strong town of Thionville, in Luxemburg. After a siege of twenty days, the place surrendered. Having taken one or two other towns of less importance, the French army wasted nearly three weeks in a state of inaction, unless, indeed, we take into account the activity caused by intestine troubles of the army itself. It is difficult to criticize fairly the conduct of a commander of that age, when his levies were made up so largely of foreign mercenaries, who felt so little attachment to the service in which they were engaged, that they were ready to quarrel with it on the slightest occasion. Among these the German schwarzreiters were the most conspicuous, manifesting too often a degree of insolence and insubordination that made them hardly less dangerous as friends than as enemies. The importance they attached to their own services made them exorbitant in their demands of pay. When this, as was too frequently the case, was in arrears, they took the matter into their own hands, by pillaging the friendly country in which they were quartered, or by breaking out into open mutiny. A German baron, on one occasion, went so far as to level his pistol at the head of the duke of Guise. So widely did this mutinous spirit extend, that it was only by singular coolness and address that this popular chieftain could bring these adventurers into anything like subjection to his authority. As it was, the loss of time caused by these troubles was attended with most disastrous consequences.

THE FRENCH INVADE FLANDERS.

The duke had left Calais garrisoned by a strong force, under Marshal Termes. He had since ordered that veteran to take command of a body of fifteen hundred horse and five thousand foot, drawn partly from the garrison itself, and to march into West Flanders. Guise proposed to join him there with his own troops, when they would furnish such occupation to the Spaniards as would effectually prevent them from a second invasion of Picardy.

The plan was well designed, and the marshal faithfully executed his part of it. Taking the road by St. Omer, he entered Flanders in the neighborhood of Dunkirk, laid siege to that flourishing town, stormed and gave it up to pillage. He then penetrated as far as Nieuport, when the fatigue and the great heat of the weather brought on an attack of gout, which entirely disabled him. The officer on whom the command devolved allowed the men to spread themselves over the country, where they perpetrated such acts of rapacity and violence as were not sanctioned even by the code of that unscrupulous age. The wretched inhabitants, driven from their homes, called loudly on Count Egmont, their governor, to protect them. The duke of Savoy lay with his army, at this time, at Maubeuge, in the province of Namur; but he sent orders to Egmont to muster such forces as he could raise in the neighboring country, and to intercept the retreat of the French, until the duke could come to his support and chastise the enemy.

Egmont, indignant at the wrongs of his countrymen, and burning with the desire of revenge, showed the greatest alacrity in obeying these orders. Volunteers came in from all sides, and he soon found himself at the head of an army consisting of ten or twelve thousand foot and two thousand horse. With these he crossed the borders at once, and sent forward a detachment to occupy the great road by which De Termes had penetrated into Flanders.

The French commander, advised too late of these movements, saw that it was necessary to abandon at once his present quarters, and secure, if possible, his retreat. Guise was at a distance, occupied with the troubles of his own camp. The Flemings had possession of the route by which the marshal had entered the country. One other lay open to him along the sea-shore, in the neighborhood of Gravelines, where the Aa pours its waters into the ocean. By taking advantage of the ebb, the river might be forded, and a direct road to Calais would be presented.

Termes saw that no time was to be lost. He caused himself to be removed from his sick-bed to a litter, and began his retreat at once. On leaving Dunkirk, he fired the town, where the houses were all that remained to the wretched inhabitants of their property. His march was impeded by his artillery, by his baggage, and especially by the booty which he was conveying back from the plundered provinces. He however succeeded in crossing the Aa at low water, and gained the sands on the opposite side. But the enemy was there before him.[234]

Egmont, on getting tidings of the marshal's movements, had crossed the river higher up, where the stream was narrower. Disencumbering himself of artillery, and even of baggage, in order to move the lighter, he made a rapid march to the sea-side, and reached it in time to intercept the enemy. There was no choice left for Termes but to fight his way through the Spaniards or surrender.

Ill as he was, the marshal mounted his horse, and addressed a few words to his troops. Pointing in the direction of the blazing ruins of Dunkirk, he told them that they could not return there. Then turning towards Calais, "There is your home," he said, "and you must beat the enemy before you can gain it." He determined, however, not to begin the action, but to secure his position as strongly as he could, and wait the assault of the Spaniards.

He placed his infantry in the centre, and flanked it on either side by his cavalry. In the front he established his artillery, consisting of six or seven falconets—field-pieces of smaller size. He threw a considerable body of Gascon pikemen in the rear, to act as a reserve wherever their presence should be required. The river Aa, which flowed behind his troops, formed also a good protection in that quarter. His left wing he covered by a barricade made of the baggage and artillery wagons. His right, which rested on the ocean, seemed secure from any annoyance on that side.

Count Egmont, seeing the French thus preparing to give battle, quickly made his own dispositions. He formed his cavalry into three divisions. The centre he proposed to lead in person. It was made up chiefly of the heavy men-at-arms and some Flemish horse. On the right he placed his light cavalry, and on the left wing rode the Spanish. His infantry he drew up in such a manner as to support the several divisions of horse. Having completed his arrangements, he gave orders to the centre and the right wing to charge, and rode at full gallop against the enemy.

Though somewhat annoyed by the heavy guns in their advance, the battalions came on in good order, and fell with such fury on the French left and centre, that horse and foot were borne down by the violence of the shock. But the French gentlemen who formed the cavalry were of the same high mettle as those who fought at St. Quentin. Though borne down for a moment, they were not overpowered; and, after a desperate struggle, they succeeded in rallying and in driving back the assailants. Egmont returned to the charge, but was forced back with greater loss than before. The French, following up their advantage, compelled the assailants to retreat on their own lines. The guns, at the same time, opening on the exposed flank of the retreating troopers, did them considerable mischief. Egmont's horse was killed under him, and he had nearly been run over by his own followers. In the mean while, the Gascon reserve, armed with their long spears, pushed on to the support of the cavalry, and filled the air with their shouts of "Victory!"[235]

The field seemed to be already lost; when the left wing of Spanish horse, which had not yet come into action, seeing the disorderly state of the French, as they were pressing on, charged them briskly on the flank. This had the effect to check the tide of pursuit, and give the fugitives time to rally. Egmont, meanwhile, was mounted on a fresh horse, and, throwing himself into the midst of his followers, endeavored to reanimate their courage and reform their disordered ranks. Then, cheering them on by his voice and example, he cried out, "We are conquerors! Those who love glory and their fatherland, follow me!"[236] and spurred furiously against the enemy.

BATTLE OF GRAVELINES.

The French, hard pressed both on front and on flank, fell back in their turn, and continued to retreat till they had gained their former position. At the same time, the lanzknechts in Egmont's service, marched up, in defiance of the fire of the artillery, and got possession of the guns, running the men who had charge of them through with their lances.[237] The fight now became general; and, as the combatants were brought into close quarters, they fought as men fight where numbers are nearly balanced, and each one seems to feel that his own arm may turn the scale of victory. The result was brought about by an event which neither party could control, and neither have foreseen.

An English squadron of ten or twelve vessels lay at some distance, but out of sight of the combatants. Attracted by the noise of the firing, its commander drew near the scene of action, and, ranging along shore, opened his fire on the right wing of the French, nearest the sea.[238] The shot, probably, from the distance of the ships, did no great execution, and is even said to have killed some of the Spaniards. But it spread a panic among the French, as they found themselves assailed by a new enemy, who seemed to have risen from the depths of the ocean. In their eagerness to extricate themselves from the fire, the cavalry on the right threw themselves on the centre, trampling down their own comrades, until all discipline was lost, and horse and foot became mingled together in wild disorder. Egmont profited by the opportunity to renew his charge; and at length, completely broken and dispirited, the enemy gave way in all directions. The stout body of Gascons who formed the reserve alone held their ground for a time, until, vigorously charged by the phalanx of Spanish spearmen, they broke, and were scattered like the rest.

The rout was now general, and the victorious cavalry rode over the field, trampling and cutting down the fugitives on all sides. Many who did not fall under their swords perished in the waters of the Aa, now swollen by the rising tide. Others were drowned in the ocean. No less than fifteen hundred of those who escaped from the field are said to have been killed by the peasantry, who occupied the passes, and thus took bloody revenge for the injuries inflicted on their country.[239] Two thousand French are stated to have fallen on the field, and not more than five hundred Spaniards, or rather Flemings, who composed the bulk of the army. The loss fell most severely on the French cavalry; severely indeed, if, according to some accounts, not very credible, they were cut to pieces almost to a man.[240] The number of prisoners was three thousand. Among them was Marshal Termes himself, who had been disabled by a wound in the head. All the baggage, the ammunition, and the rich spoil gleaned by the foray into Flanders, became the prize of the victors.—Although not so important for the amount of forces engaged, the victory of Gravelines was as complete as that of St. Quentin.[241]

Yet the French, who had a powerful army on foot, were in better condition to meet their reverses than on that day. The duke of Guise, on receiving the tidings, instantly marched with his whole force, and posted himself strongly behind the Somme, in order to cover Picardy from invasion. The duke of Savoy, uniting his forces with those of Count Egmont, took up a position along the line of the Authie, and made demonstrations of laying siege to Dourlens. The French and Spanish monarchs both took the field. So well appointed and large a force as that led by Henry had not been seen in France for many a year; yet that monarch might justly be mortified by the reflection that the greater part of this force was made up of foreign mercenaries, amounting, it is said, to forty thousand. Philip was in equal strength, and the length of the war had enabled him to assemble his best captains around him. Among them was Alva, whose cautious councils might serve to temper the bolder enterprise of the duke of Savoy.

A level ground, four leagues in breadth, lay between the armies. Skirmishes took place occasionally between the light troops on either side, and a general engagement might be brought on at any moment. All eyes were turned to the battle-field, where the two greatest princes of Europe might so soon contend for mastery with each other. Had the fathers of these princes, Charles the Fifth and Francis the First, been in the field, such very probably would have been the issue. But Philip was not disposed to risk the certain advantages he had already gained by a final appeal to arms. And Henry was still less inclined to peril all—his capital, perhaps his crown—on the hazard of a single cast.

NEGOTIATIONS FOR PEACE.

There were many circumstances which tended to make both monarchs prefer a more peaceful arbitrament of their quarrel, and to disgust them with the war. Among these was the ruinous state of their finances.[242] When Ruy Gomez de Silva, as has been already stated, was sent to Spain by Philip, he was commanded to avail himself of every expedient that could be devised to raise money. Offices were put up for sale to the highest bidder. The public revenues were mortgaged. Large sums were obtained from merchants at exorbitant rates of interest. Forced loans were exacted from individuals, especially from such as were known to have received large returns by the late arrivals from the New World. Three hundred thousand ducats were raised on the security of the coming fair at Villalon. The Regent Joanna was persuaded to sell her yearly pension, assigned her on the alcavala, for a downright sum to meet the exigencies of the state. Goods were obtained from the king of Portugal, in order to be sent to Flanders for the profit to be raised on the sale.[243] Such were the wretched devices by which Philip, who inherited this policy of temporizing expedients from his father, endeavored to replenish his exhausted treasury. Besides the sums drawn from Castile, the king obtained also no less than a million and a half of ducats, as an extraordinary grant from the states of the Netherlands.[244] Yet these sums, large as they were, were soon absorbed by the expense of keeping armies on foot in France and in Italy. Philip's correspondence with his ministers teems with representations of the low state of his finances, of the arrears due to his troops, and the necessity of immediate supplies to save him from bankruptcy. The prospects the ministers hold out to him in return are anything but encouraging.[245]

Another circumstance which made both princes desire the termination of the war was the disturbed state of their own kingdoms. The Protestant heresy had already begun to rear its formidable crest in the Netherlands; and the Huguenots were beginning to claim the notice of the French government. Henry the Second, who was penetrated, as much as Philip himself, with the spirit of the Inquisition, longed for leisure to crush the heretical doctrines in the bud. In this pious purpose he was encouraged by Paul the Fourth, who, now that he was himself restrained from levying war against his neighbors, seemed resolved that no one else should claim that indulgence. He sent legates to both Henry and Philip, conjuring them, instead of warring with each other, to turn their arms against the heretics in their dominions, who were sapping the foundations of the Church.[246]

The pacific disposition of the two monarchs was, moreover, fostered by the French prisoners, and especially by Montmorency, whose authority had been such at court, that Charles the Fifth declared "his capture was more important than would have been that of the king himself."[247] The old constable was most anxious to return to his own country, where he saw with uneasiness the ascendancy which his absence and the prolongation of the war were giving to his rival, Guise, in the royal counsels. Through him negotiations were opened with the French court, until, Henry the Second thinking, with good reason, that these negotiations would be better conducted by a regular congress than by prisoners in the custody of his enemies, commissioners were appointed on both sides, to arrange the terms of accommodation.[248] Montmorency and his fellow-captive, Marshal St. André, were included in the commission. But the person of most importance in it, on the part of France, was the cardinal of Lorraine, brother of the duke of Guise, a man of a subtle, intriguing temper, and one who, like the rest of his family, notwithstanding his pacific demonstrations, may be said to have represented the war party in France[249]

On the part of Spain the agents selected were the men most conspicuous for talent and authority in the kingdom; the names of some of whom, whether for good or for evil report, remain immortal on the page of history. Among these were the duke of Alva and his great antagonist—as he became afterwards in the Netherlands—William of Orange. But the principal person in the commission, the man who in fact directed it, was Anthony Perrenot, bishop of Arras, better known by his later title of Cardinal Granvelle. He was son of the celebrated chancellor of that name under Charles the Fifth, by whom he was early trained, not so much to the duties of the ecclesiastical profession as of public life. He profited so well by the instruction, that, in the emperor's time, he succeeded his father in the royal confidence, and surpassed him in his talent for affairs. His accommodating temper combined with his zeal for the interests of Philip to recommend Granvelle to the favor of that monarch; and his insinuating address and knowledge of character well qualified him for conducting a negotiation where there were so many jarring feelings to be brought into concord, so many hostile and perplexing interests to be reconciled.

As a suspension of hostilities was agreed on during the continuance of the negotiations, it was decided to remove the armies from the neighborhood of each other, where a single spark might at any time lead to a general explosion. A still stronger earnest was given of their pacific intentions, by both the monarchs disbanding part of their foreign mercenaries, whose services were purchased at a ruinous cost, that made one of the great evils of the war.

The congress met on the fifteenth of October, 1558, at the abbey of Cercamps, near Cambray. Between parties so well disposed, it might be thought that some general terms of accommodation would soon be settled. But the war, which ran back pretty far into Charles the Fifth's time, had continued so long, that many territories had changed masters during the contest, and it was not easy to adjust the respective claims to them. The duke of Savoy's dominions, for example, had passed into the hands of Henry the Second, who, moreover, asserted an hereditary right to them through his grandmother. Yet it was not possible for Philip to abandon his ally, the man whom he had placed at the head of his armies. But the greatest obstacle was Calais. "If we return without the recovery of Calais," said the English envoys, who also took part in this congress, "we shall be stoned to death by the people."[250]

MARY'S DEATH.

Philip supported the claim of England; and yet it was evident that France would never relinquish a post so important to herself, which, after so many years of hope deferred, had at last come again into her possession. While engaged in the almost hopeless task of adjusting these differences, an event occurred which suspended the negotiations for a time, and exercised an important influence on the affairs of Europe. This was the death of one of the parties to the war, Queen Mary of England.

Mary's health had been fast declining of late, under the pressure of both mental and bodily disease. The loss of Calais bore heavily on her spirits, as she thought of the reproach it would bring on her reign, and the increased unpopularity it would draw upon herself. "When I die," she said, in the strong language since made familiar to Englishmen by the similar expression of their great admiral, "Calais will be found written on my heart."[251]

Philip, who was not fully apprised of the queen's low condition, early in November sent the count, afterwards duke, of Feria as his envoy to London, with letters for Mary. This nobleman, who had married one of the queen's maids of honor, stood high in the favor of his master. With courtly manners, and a magnificent way of living, he combined a shrewdness and solidity of judgment, that eminently fitted him for his present mission. The queen received with great joy the letters which he brought her, though too ill to read them. Feria, seeing the low state of Mary's health, was earnest with the council to secure the succession for Elizabeth.

He had the honor of supping with the princess at her residence in Hatfield, about eighteen miles from London. The Spaniard enlarged, in the course of conversation, on the good-will of his master to Elizabeth, as shown in the friendly offices he had rendered her during her imprisonment, and his desire to have her succeed to the crown. The envoy did not add that this desire was prompted not so much by the king's concern for the interests of Elizabeth as by his jealousy of the French, who seemed willing to countenance the pretensions of Mary Stuart, the wife of the dauphin, to the English throne.[252] The princess acknowledged the protection she had received from Philip in her troubles. "But for her present prospects," she said, "she was indebted neither to the king nor to the English lords, however much these latter might vaunt their fidelity. It was to the people that she owed them, and on the people she relied."[253] This answer of Elizabeth furnishes the key to her success.

The penetrating eye of the envoy soon perceived that the English princess was under evil influences. The persons most in her confidence, he wrote, were understood to have a decided leaning to the Lutheran heresy, and he augured most unfavorably for the future prospects of the kingdom.

On the seventeenth of November, 1558, after a brief, but most disastrous reign, Queen Mary died. Her fate had been a hard one. Unimpeachable in her private life, and, however misguided, with deeply-seated religious principles, she has yet left a name held in more general execration than any other on the roll of English sovereigns. One obvious way of accounting for this, doubtless, is by the spirit of persecution which hung like a dark cloud over her reign. And this not merely on account of the persecution; for that was common with the line of Tudor; but because it was directed against the professors of a religion which came to be the established religion of the country. Thus the blood of the martyr became the seed of a great and powerful church, ready through all after time to bear testimony to the ruthless violence of its oppressor.

There was still another cause of Mary's unpopularity. The daughter of Katharine of Aragon could not fail to be nurtured in a reverence for the illustrious line from which she was descended. The education begun in the cradle was continued in later years. When the young princess was betrothed to her cousin, Charles the Fifth, it was stipulated that she should be made acquainted with the language and the institutions of Castile, and should even wear the costume of the country. "And who," exclaimed Henry the Eighth, "is so well fitted to instruct her in all this as the queen, her mother?" Even after the match with her imperial suitor was broken off by his marriage with the Portuguese infanta, Charles still continued to take a lively interest in the fortunes of his young kinswoman; while she, in her turn, naturally looked to the emperor, as her nearest relative, for counsel and support. Thus drawn towards Spain by the ties of kindred, by sympathy, and by interest, Mary became in truth more of a Spanish than an English woman; and when all this was completed by the odious Spanish match, and she gave her hand to Philip the Second, the last tie seemed to be severed which had bound her to her native land. Thenceforth she remained an alien in the midst of her own subjects.—Very different was the fate of her sister and successor, Elizabeth, who ruled over her people like a true-hearted English queen, under no influence, and with no interests distinct from theirs. She was requited for it by the most loyal devotion on their part; while round her throne have gathered those patriotic recollections which, in spite of her many errors, still render her name dear to Englishmen.

On the death of her sister, Elizabeth, without opposition, ascended the throne of her ancestors. It may not be displeasing to the reader to see the portrait of her sketched by the Venetian minister at this period, or rather two years earlier, when she was twenty-three years of age. "The princess," he says, "is as beautiful in mind as she is in body; though her countenance is rather pleasing from its expression, than beautiful.[254] She is large and well-made; her complexion clear, and of an olive tint; her eyes are fine, and her hands, on which she prides herself, small and delicate. She has an excellent genius, with much address and self-command, as was abundantly shown in the severe trials to which she was exposed in the earlier part of her life. In her temper she is haughty and imperious, qualities inherited from her father, King Henry the Eighth, who, from her resemblance to himself, is said to have regarded her with peculiar fondness."[255]—He had, it must be owned, an uncommon way of showing it.