ies in splendid liveries and followed by four thousand
citizen soldiers in full uniform, went forth from the gates to receive
him. Twenty-eight triumphal arches, which alone, according to the thrifty
chronicler, had cost 26,800 Carolus guldens, were erected in the
different streets and squares, and every possible demonstration of
affectionate welcome was lavished upon the Prince and the Emperor. The
rich and prosperous city, unconscious of the doom which awaited it in the
future, seemed to have covered itself with garlands to honor the approach
of its master. Yet icy was the deportment with which Philip received
these demonstrations of affection, and haughty the glance with which he
looked down upon these exhibitions of civic hilarity, as from the height
of a grim and inaccessible tower. The impression made upon the
Netherlanders was any thing but favorable, and when he had fully
experienced the futility of the projects on the Empire which it was so
difficult both for his father and himself to resign, he returned to the
more congenial soil of Spain. In 1554 he had again issued from the
peninsula to marry the Queen of England, a privilege which his father had
graciously resigned to him. He was united to Mary Tudor at Winchester, on
the 25th July of that year, and if congeniality of tastes could have made
a marriage happy, that union should have been thrice blessed. To maintain
the supremacy of the Church seemed to both the main object of existence,
to execute unbelievers the most sacred duty imposed by the Deity upon
anointed princes, to convert their kingdoms into a hell the surest means
of winning Heaven for themselves. It was not strange that the conjunction
of two such wonders of superstition in one sphere should have seemed
portentous in the eyes of the English nation. Philip's mock efforts in
favor of certain condemned reformers, and his pretended intercessions in
favor of the Princess Elizabeth, failed entirely of their object. The
parliament refused to confer upon him more than a nominal authority in
England. His children, should they be born, might be sovereigns; he was
but husband of the Queen; of a woman who could not atone by her abject
but peevish fondness for himself, and by her congenial blood-thirstiness
towards her subjects, for her eleven years seniority, her deficiency in
attractions, and her incapacity to make him the father of a line of
English monarchs. It almost excites compassion even for Mary Tudor,