CHARLES V was born at Ghent on the twenty-fourth day of February, in the year one thousand five hundred. His father, Philip the Handsome, archduke of Austria, was the son of the emperor Maximilian, and of Mary the only child of Charles the Bold, the last prince of the house of Burgundy. His mother, Joanna, was the second daughter of Ferdinand king of Aragon, and of Isabella queen of Castile.

A long train of fortunate events had opened the way for this young prince to the inheritance of more extensive dominions, than any European monarch, since Charlemagne, had possessed. Each of his ancestors had acquired kingdoms or provinces, towards which their prospect of succession was extremely remote. The rich possessions of Mary of Burgundy had been destined for another family, she having been contracted by her father to the only son of Louis XI of France; but that capricious monarch, indulging his hatred to her family, chose rather to strip her of part of her territories by force, than to secure the whole by marriage; and by this misconduct, fatal to his posterity, he threw all the Netherlands and Franche Compté into the hands of a rival.

Isabella, the daughter of John II of Castile, far from having any prospect of that noble inheritance which she transmitted to her grandson, passed the early part of her life in obscurity and indigence. But the Castilians, exasperated against her brother Henry IV, an ill-advised and vicious prince, publicly charged him with impotence, and his queen with adultery. Upon his demise, rejecting Joanna, whom Henry had uniformly, and even on his death-bed, owned to be his lawful daughter, and whom an assembly of the states had acknowledged to be the heir of his kingdom, they obliged her to retire into Portugal, and placed Isabella on the throne of Castile. Ferdinand owed the crown of Aragon to the unexpected death of his elder brother, and acquired the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily by violating the faith of treaties, and disregarding the ties of blood. To all these kingdoms, Christopher Columbus, by an effort of genius and of intrepidity, the boldest and most successful that is recorded in the annals of mankind, added a new world, the wealth of which became one considerable source of the power and grandeur of the Spanish monarchs.

Don John, the only son of Ferdinand and Isabella, and their eldest daughter, the queen of Portugal, being cut off, without issue, in the flower of youth, all their hopes centred in Joanna and her posterity. But as her husband, the archduke, was a stranger to the Spaniards, it was thought expedient to invite him into Spain, that by residing among them, he might accustom himself to their laws and manners; and it was expected that the Cortes, or assembly of states, whose authority was then so great in Spain, that no title to the crown was reckoned valid unless it received their sanction, would acknowledge his right of succession, together with that of the infanta, his wife. Philip and Joanna, passing through France in their way to Spain, were entertained in that kingdom with the utmost magnificence. The archduke did homage to Louis XII for the earldom of Flanders, and took his seat as a peer of the realm in the parliament of Paris. They were received in Spain with every mark of honor that the parental affection of Ferdinand and Isabella, or the respect of their subjects, could devise; and their title to the crown was soon after acknowledged by the Cortes of both kingdoms.

But amidst these outward appearances of satisfaction and joy, some secret uneasiness preyed upon the mind of each of these princes. The stately and reserved ceremonial of the Spanish court was so burdensome to Philip, a prince, young, gay, affable, fond of society and of pleasure, that he soon began to express a desire of returning to his native country, the manners of which were more suited to his temper. Ferdinand, observing the declining health of his queen, with whose life he knew that his right to the government of Castile must cease, easily foresaw, that a prince of Philip's disposition, and who already discovered an extreme impatience to reign, would never consent to his retaining any degree of authority in that kingdom; and the prospect of this diminution of his power awakened the jealousy of that ambitious monarch.

Isabella beheld, with the sentiments natural to a mother, the indifference and neglect with which the archduke treated her daughter, who was destitute of those beauties of person, as well as those accomplishments of mind, which fix the affections of a husband. Her understanding, always weak, was often disordered. She doated on Philip with such an excess of childish and indiscreet fondness, as excited disgust rather than affection. Her jealousy, for which her husband's behavior gave her too much cause, was proportioned to her love, and often broke out in the most extravagant actions. Isabella, though sensible of her defects, could not help pitying her condition, which was soon rendered altogether deplorable, by the archduke's abrupt resolution of setting out in the middle of winter for Flanders, and of leaving her in Spain. Isabella entreated him not to abandon his wife to grief and melancholy, which might prove fatal to her as she was near the time of her delivery. Joanna conjured him to put off his journey for three days only, that she might have the pleasure of celebrating the festival of Christmas in his company. Ferdinand, after representing the imprudence of his leaving Spain, before he had time to become acquainted with the genius, or to gain the affections of the people, who were one day to be his subjects, besought him, at least, not to pass through France, with which kingdom he was then at open war. Philip, without regarding either the dictates of humanity, or the maxims of prudence, persisted in his purpose; and on the twenty-second of December set out for the Low Countries, by the way of France.

From the moment of his departure, Joanna sunk into a deep and sullen melancholy, and while she was in that situation bore Ferdinand her second son, for whom the power of his brother Charles afterwards cured the kingdoms of Hungary and Bohemia, and to whom he at last transmitted the imperial scepter. Joanna was the only person in Spain who discovered no joy at the birth of this prince. Insensible to that as well as to every other pleasure, she was wholly occupied with the thoughts of returning to her husband; nor did she, in any degree, recover tranquility of mind, until she arrived at Brussels next year.

Philip, in passing through France, had an interview with Louis XII and signed a treaty with him, by which he hoped that all the differences between France and Spain would have been finally terminated. But Ferdinand, whose affairs, at that time, were extremely prosperous in Italy, where the superior genius of Gonsalvo de Cordova, the great captain, triumphed on every occasion over the arms of France, did not pay the least regard to what his son-in-law had concluded, and carried on hostilities with greater ardor than ever.

From this time Philip seems not to have taken any part in the affairs of Spain, waiting in quiet till the death either of Ferdinand or Isabella should open the way to one of their thrones. The latter of these events was not far distant. The untimely death of her son and eldest daughter had made a deep impression on the mind of Isabella; and as she could derive but little consolation for the losses which she had sustained either from her daughter Joanna, whose infirmities daily increased, or from her son-in-law, who no longer preserved even the appearance of a decent respect towards that unhappy princess, her spirits and health began gradually to decline, and after languishing some months, she died at Medina del Campo on the twenty-sixth of November one thousand five hundred and four. She was no less eminent for virtue than for wisdom; and whether we consider her behavior as a queen, as a wife, or as a mother, she is justly entitled to the high encomiums bestowed on her by the Spanish historians.

A few weeks before her death, she made her last will, and being convinced of Joanna’s incapacity to assume the reins of government into her own hands, and having no inclination to commit them to Philip, with whose conduct she was extremely dissatisfied, she appointed Ferdinand regent or administrator of the affairs of Castile until her grandson Charles should attain the age of twenty. She bequeathed to Ferdinand likewise one half of the revenues which should arise from the Indies, together with the grand masterships of the three military orders; dignities which rendered the person who possessed them almost independent, and which Isabella had, for that reason, annexed to the crown. But before she signed a deed so favorable to Ferdinand, she obliged him to swear that he would not, by a second marriage, or by any other means, endeavor to deprive Joanna or her posterity of their right of succession to any of his kingdoms.

Immediately upon the queen’s death, Ferdinand resigned the title of king of Castile, and issued orders to proclaim Joanna and Philip the sovereigns of that kingdom. But, at the same time, he assumed the character of regent, in consequence of Isabella’s testament; and not long after he prevailed on the Cortes of Castile to acknowledge his right to that office. This, however, he did not procure without difficulty, nor without discovering such symptoms of alienation and disgust among the Castilians as filled him with great uneasiness. The union of Castile and Aragon, for almost thirty years, had not so entirely extirpated the ancient and hereditary enmity which subsisted between the natives of these kingdoms, that the Castilian pride could submit, without murmuring, to the government of a king of Aragon. Ferdinand’s own character, with which the Castilians were well acquainted, was far from rendering his authority desirable. Suspicious, discerning, severe, and parsimonious, he was accustomed to observe the minute actions of his subjects with a jealous attention, and to reward their highest services with little liberality; and they were now deprived of Isabella, whose gentle qualities, and partiality to her Castilian subjects, often tempered his austerity, or rendered it tolerable. The maxims of his government were especially odious to the grandees; for that artful prince, sensible of the dangerous privileges conferred upon them by the feudal institutions, had endeavored to curb their exorbitant power, by extending the royal jurisdiction, by protecting their injured vassals, by increasing the immunities of cities, and by other measures equally prudent. From all these causes, a formidable party among the Castilians united against Ferdinand, and though the persons who composed it had not hitherto taken any public step in opposition to him, he plainly saw, that upon the least encouragement from their new king, they would proceed to the most violent extremities.

There was no less agitation in the Netherlands, upon receiving the accounts of Isabella's death, and of Ferdinand's having assumed the government of Castile. Philip was not of a temper tamely to suffer himself to be supplanted by the ambition of his father-in-law. If Joanna’s infirmities, and the nonage of Charles, rendered them incapable of government, he, as a husband, was the proper guardian of his wife, and, as a father, the natural tutor of his son. Nor was it sufficient to oppose to these just rights, and to the inclination of the people of Castile, the authority of a testament, the genuineness of which was perhaps doubtful, and its contents to him appeared certainly to be iniquitous. A keener edge was added to Philip’s resentment, and new vigour infused into his councils by the arrival of Don John Manuel. He was Ferdinand’s ambassador at the Imperial court, but upon the first notice of Isabella's death repaired to Brussels, flattering himself, that under a young and liberal prince, he might attain to power and honors, which he could never have expected in the service of an old and frugal master. He had early paid court to Philip during his residence in Spain, with such assiduity as entirely gained his confidence; and having been trained to business under Ferdinand, could oppose his schemes with equal abilities, and with arts not inferior to those for which that monarch was distinguished.

By the advice of Manuel, ambassadors were despatched to require Ferdinand to retire into Aragon, and to resign the government of Castile to those persons whom Philip should intrust with it, until his own arrival in that kingdom. Such of the Castilian nobles as had discovered any dissatisfaction with Ferdinand’s administration, were encouraged by every method to oppose it. At the same time a treaty was concluded with Louis XII by which Philip flattered himself, that he had secured the friendship and assistance of that monarch.

Meanwhile, Ferdinand employed all the arts of address and policy, in order to retain the power of which he had got possession. By means of Conchillos, an Aragonian gentleman, he entered into a private negotiation with Joanna, and prevailed on that weak princess to confirm, by her authority, his right to the regency. But this intrigue did not escape the penetrating eye of Don John Manuel. Joanna’s letter of consent was intercepted; Conchillos was thrown into a dungeon; she herself confined to an apartment in the palace, and all her Spanish domestics secluded from her presence.

The mortification which the discovery of this intrigue occasioned to Ferdinand was much increased by his observing the progress which Philip’s emissaries made in Castile. Some of the nobles retired to their castles; others to the towns in which they had influence; they formed themselves into confederacies, and began to assemble their vassals. Ferdinand’s court was almost totally deserted; not a person of distinction but Ximenes, archbishop of Toledo, the duke of Alva, and the marquis of Denia, remaining there; while the houses of Philip’s ambassadors were daily crowded with noblemen of the highest rank.

Exasperated at this universal defection, and mortified perhaps with seeing all his schemes defeated by a younger politician, Ferdinand resolved, in defiance of the law of nature, and of decency, to deprive his daughter and her posterity of the crown of Castile, rather than renounce the regency of that kingdom. His plan for accomplishing this was no less bold, than the intention itself was wicked. He demanded in marriage Joanna, the supposed daughter of Henry IV on the belief of whose illegitimacy Isabella’s right to the crown of Castile was founded: and by reviving the claim of this princess, in opposition to which he himself had formerly led armies and fought battles, he hoped once more to get possession of the throne of that kingdom. But Emanuel, king of Portugal, in whose dominions Joanna resided at that time, having married one of Ferdinand’s daughters by Isabella, refused his consent to that unnatural match; and the unhappy princess herself, having lost all relish for the objects of ambition, by being long immured in a convent, discovered no less aversion to it.

The resources, however, of Ferdinand’s ambition were not exhausted. Upon meeting with a repulse in Portugal, he turned towards France, and sought in marriage Germain de Foix, a daughter of the viscount of Narbonne, and of Mary, the sister of Louis XII. The war which that monarch had carried on against Ferdinand in Naples, had been so unfortunate, that he listened with joy to a proposal, which furnished him with an honorable pretence for concluding peace; and though no prince was ever more remarkable than Ferdinand for making all his passions bend to the maxims of interest, or become subservient to the purposes of ambition, yet so vehement was his resentment against his son-in-law, that the desire of gratifying it rendered him regardless of every other consideration. In order to be revenged of Philip, by detaching Louis from his interest, and in order to gain a chance of excluding him from his hereditary throne of Aragon, and the dominions annexed to it, he was ready once more to divide Spain into separate kingdoms, though the union of these was the great glory of his reign, and had been the chief object of his ambition; he consented to restore the Neapolitan nobles of the French faction to their possessions and honors; and submitted to the ridicule of marrying in an advanced age, a princess of eighteen.

The conclusion of this match, which deprived Philip of his only ally, and threatened him with the loss of so many kingdoms, gave him a dreadful alarm, and convinced Don John Manuel that there was now a necessity of taking other measures with regard to the affairs of Spain. He accordingly instructed the Flemish ambassadors, in the court of Spain, to testify the strong desire which their master had of terminating all differences between him and Ferdinand in an amicable manner, and his willingness to consent to any conditions that would reestablish the friendship which ought to subsist between a father and a son-in-law. Ferdinand, though he had made and broken more treaties than any prince of any age, was apt to confide so far in the sincerity of other men, or to depend so much upon his own address and their weakness, as to be always extremely fond of a negotiation. He listened with eagerness to these declarations, and soon concluded a treaty at Salamanca [Nov. 24]; in which it was stipulated, that the government of Castile should be carried on in the joint names of Joanna, of Ferdinand, and of Philip; and that the revenues of the crown, as well as the right of conferring offices, should be shared between Ferdinand and Philip, by an equal division.

Nothing, however, was farther from Philip’s thoughts than to observe this treaty. His sole intention in proposing it was to amuse Ferdinand, and to prevent him from taking any measures for obstructing his voyage into Spain. It had that effect. Ferdinand, sagacious as he was, did not for some time suspect his design; and though when he perceived it, he prevailed on the king of France not only to remonstrate against the archduke’s journey, but to threaten hostilities if he should undertake it; though he solicited the duke of Gueldres to attack his son-in-law’s dominions in the Low-Countries, Philip and his consort nevertheless set sail with a numerous fleet, and a good body of land forces. They were obliged, by a violent tempest, to take shelter in England, where Henry VII, in compliance with Ferdinand’s solicitations, detained them upwards of three months; at last they were permitted to depart, and after a more prosperous voyage, they arrived in safety at Corunna in Galicia [April 28], nor durst Ferdinand attempt, as he had once intended, to oppose their landing by force of arms.

The Castilian nobles, who had been obliged hitherto to conceal or to dissemble their sentiments, now declared openly in favor of Philip. From every corner of the kingdom, persons of the highest rank, with numerous retinues of their vassals, repaired to their new sovereign. The treaty of Salamanca was universally condemned, and all agreed to exclude from the government of Castile, a prince, who by consenting to disjoin Aragon and Naples from that crown, discovered so little concern for its true interests. Ferdinand, meanwhile, abandoned by almost all the Castilians, disconcerted by their revolt, and uncertain whether he should peaceably relinquish his power, or take arms in order to maintain it, earnestly solicited an interview with his son-in-law, who, by the advice of Manuel, studiously avoided it. Convinced at last, by seeing the number and zeal of Philip’s adherents daily increase, that it was vain to think of resisting such a torrent, Ferdinand consented, by treaty, to resign the regency of Castile into the hands of Philip [June 27], to retire into his hereditary dominions of Aragon, and to rest satisfied with the masterships of the military orders, and that share of the revenue of the Indies, which Isabella had bequeathed to him. Though an interview between the princes was no longer necessary, it was agreed to on both sides from motives of decency. Philip repaired to the place appointed, with a splendid retinue of Castilian nobles, and a considerable body of armed men. Ferdinand appeared without any pomp, attended by a few followers mounted on mules, and unarmed. On that occasion Don John Manuel had the pleasure of displaying before the monarch, whom he had deserted, the extensive influence which he had acquired over his new master: while Ferdinand suffered, in presence of his former subjects, the two most cruel mortifications which an artful and ambitious prince can feel; being at once overreached in conduct, and stripped of power.

Not long after [July], he retired into Aragon; and hoping that some favorable accident would soon open the way for his return into Castile, he took care to protest, though with great secrecy, that the treaty concluded with his son-in-law, being extorted by force, ought to be deemed void of all obligation.

Philip took possession of his new authority with a youthful joy. The unhappy Joanna, from whom he derived it, remained, during all these contests, under the dominion of a deep melancholy; she was seldom allowed to appear in public; her father, though he had often desired it, was refused access to her; and Philip’s chief object was to prevail on the Cortes to declare her incapable of government, that an undivided power might be lodged in his hands, until his son should attain unto full age. But such was the partial attachment of the Castilians to their native princess, that though Manuel had the address to gain some members of the Cortes assembled at Valladolid, and others were willing to gratify their new sovereign in his first request, the great body of the representatives refused their consent to a declaration which they thought so injurious to the blood of their monarchs. They were unanimous, however, in acknowledging Joanna and Philip, queen and king of Castile, and their son Charles prince o Asturias.

This was almost the only memorable event during Philip’s administration. A fever put an end to his life in the twenty-eighth year of his age [Sept. 25], when he had not enjoyed the regal dignity, which he bad bee so eager to obtain, full three months.

The whole royal authority in Castile ought of course to have devolved upon Joanna. But the shock occasioned by such a disaster so unexpected as the death of her husband, completed the disorder of her understanding, and her incapacity for government. During all the time of Philip’s sickness no entreaty could prevail on her, though in the sixth month of her pregnancy, to leave him for a moment. When he expired, however, she did not shed one tear, or utter a single groan. Her grief was silent and settled. She continued to watch the dead body with the same tenderness and attention as if it had been alive; and though at last she permitted it to be buried, she soon removed it from the tomb to her own apartment. There it was laid upon a bed of state, in a splendid dress; and having heard from some monk a legendary tale of a king who revived after he had been dead fourteen years, she kept her eyes almost constantly fixed in the body, waiting for the happy moment of its return to life. Nor was this capricious affection for her dead husband less tinctured with jealousy, than that which she had borne to him while alive. She did not permit any of her female attendants to approach the bed on which his corpse was laid; she would not suffer any woman who did not belong to her family to enter the apartment; and rather than grant that privilege to a midwife, though a very aged one had been chosen on purpose, she bore the princess Catharine without any other assistance than that of her own domestics.

A woman in such a state of mind was little capable of governing a great kingdom; and Joanna, who made it her role employment to bewail the loss, and to pray for the soul of her husband, would have thought her attention to public affairs an impious neglect of those duties which she owed to him. But though she declined assuming the administration herself, yet by a strange caprice of jealousy, she refused to commit it to any other person; and no entreaty of her subjects could persuade her to name a regent, or even to sign such papers as were necessary for the execution of justice, and the security of the kingdom.

The death of Philip threw the Castilians into the greatest perplexity. It was necessary to appoint a regent, both on account of Joanna’s frenzy, and the infancy of her son; and as there was not among the nobles any person so eminently distinguished, either by superiority in rink or abilities, as to be called by the public voice to that high office, all naturally turned their eyes either towards Ferdinand, or towards the emperor Maximilian. The former claimed that dignity as administrator for his daughter, and by virtue of the testament of Isabella; the latter thought himself the legal guardian of his grandson, whom on account of his mother’s infirmity, he already considered as king of Castile. Such of the nobility as had lately been most active in compelling Ferdinand to resign the government of the kingdom, trembled at the thoughts of his being restored so soon to his former dignity. They dreaded the return of a monarch, not apt to forgive, and who, to those defects with which they were already acquainted, added that resentment which the remembrance of their behavior, and reflection upon his own disgrace, must naturally have excited. Though none of these objections lay against Maximilian, he was a stranger to the laws and manners of Castile; he had not either troops or money to support his pretensions; nor could his claim be admitted without a public declaration of Joanna’s incapacity for government, an indignity to which, notwithstanding the notoriety of her distemper, the delicacy of the Castilians could not hear the thoughts of subjecting her.

Don John Manuel, however, and a few of the nobles, who considered themselves as most obnoxious to Ferdinand’s displeasure, declared for Maximilian, and offered to support his claim with all their interest. Maximilian, always enterprising and decisive in council, though feeble and dilatory in execution, eagerly embraced the offer. But a series of ineffectual negotiations was the only consequence of this transaction. The emperor, as usual, asserted his rights in a high strain, promised a great deal, and performed nothing.

A few days before the death of Philip, Ferdinand had set out for Naples, that, by his own presence, he might put an end, with greater decency, to the viceroyalty of the great captain, whose important services, and cautious conduct, did not screen him from the suspicions of his jealous master. Though an account of his son-in-law's death reached him at Portofino, in the territories of Genoa, he was so solicitous to discover the secret intrigues which he supposed the great captain to have been carrying on, and to establish his own authority on a firm foundation in the Neapolitan dominions, by removing him from the supreme command there, that rather than discontinue his voyage, he chose to leave Castile in a state of anarchy, and even to risk, by this delay, his obtaining possession of the government of that kingdom.

Nothing but the great abilities and prudent conduct of his adherents could have prevented the bad effects of this absence. At the head of these was Ximenes, Archbishop of Toledo, who, though he had been raised to that dignity by Isabella, contrary to the inclination of Ferdinand, and though he could have no expectation of enjoying much power under the administration of a master little disposed to distinguish him by extraordinary marks of attention, was nevertheless so disinterested as to prefer the welfare of his country before his own grandeur, and to declare, that Castile could never be so happily governed as by a prince, whom long experience had rendered thoroughly acquainted with its true interest. The zeal of Ximenes to bring over his countrymen to this opinion, induced him to lay aside somewhat of his usual austerity and haughtiness. He condescended, on this occasion, to court the disaffected nobles, and employed address, as well as arguments, to persuade them. Ferdinand seconded his endeavors with great art; and by concessions to some of the grandees, by promises to others, and by letters full of complaisance to all, he gained many of his most violent opponents. Though many cabals were formed, and some commotions were excited, yet when Ferdinand, after having settled the affairs of Naples, arrived in Castile, Aug. 21, 1507, he entered upon the administration without opposition. The prudence with which he exercised his authority in that kingdom, equaled the good fortune by which he had recovered it. By a moderate, but steady administration, free from partiality and from resentment, he recon­ciled the Castilians to his person, and secured to them, entirely, during the remainder of his life, as much domestic tranquility as was consistent with the genius of the feudal government, which still subsisted among them in full vigour.

Nor was the preservation of tranquility in his hereditary kingdoms the only obligation which the archduke Charles owed to the wise regency of his grandfather; it was his good fortune, during that period, to have very important additions made to the dominions over which he was to reign. On the coast of Barbary, Oran, and other conquests of no small value, were annexed to the crown of Castile by Cardinal Ximenes, who, with a spirit very uncommon in a monk, led in person a numerous army against the Moors of that country; and with a generosity and magnificence still more singular, defrayed the whole expense of the expedition out of his own revenues. In Europe, Ferdinand, under pretences no less frivolous than unjust; as well as by artifices the most shameful and treacherous, expelled John d’Albret, the lawful sovereign, from the throne of Navarre; and, seizing on that kingdom, extended the limits of the Spanish monarchy from the Pyrenees on the one hand, to the frontiers of Portugal on the other.

It was not, however, the desire of aggrandizing the archduke, which influenced Ferdinand in this, or in any other of his actions. He was more apt to consider that young prince as a rival, who might one day wrest out of his hands the government of Castile, than as a grandson, for whose interest he was intrusted with the administration. This jealousy soon begot aversion, and even hatred, the symptoms of which he was at no pains to conceal. Hence proceeded his immoderate joy when his young queen was delivered of a son, whose life would have deprived Charles of the crowns of Aragon, Naples, Sicily, and Sardinia; and upon the untimely death of that prince, he discovered, for the same reason, an excessive solicitude to have other children. This impatience hastened, in all probability, the accession of Charles to the crown of Spain. Ferdinand, in order to procure a blessing, of which, from his advanced age, and the intemperance of his youth, he could have little prospect, had recourse to his physicians, and by their prescription took one of those potions, which are supposed to add vigour to the constitution, though they more frequently prove fatal to it. This was its effect on a frame so feeble and exhausted as that of Ferdinand; for though he survived a violent disorder, which it at first occasioned, it brought on such an habitual languor and dejection of mind, as rendered him averse from any serious attention to public affairs, and fond of frivolous amusements, on which he had not hitherto bestowed much time. Though he now despaired of having any son of his own, his jealousy of the archduke did not abate, nor could he help viewing him with that aversion which princes often bear to their successors. In order to gratify this unnatural passion, he made a will, appointing prince Ferdinand, who, having been born and educated in Spain, was much beloved by the Spaniards, to be regent of all his kingdoms, until the arrival of the archduke his brother; and by the same deed he settled upon him the grand-mastership of the three military orders. The former of these grants might have put it in the power of the young prince to have dis­puted the throne with his brother; the latter would, in any event, have rendered him almost independent of him.

Ferdinand retained to the last that jealous love of power, which was so remarkable through his whole life. Unwilling even at the approach of death to admit a thought of relinquishing any portion of his authority, he removed continually from place to place, in order to fly from his distemper, or to forget it. Though his strength declined every day, none of his attendants durst mention his condition; nor would he admit his father confessor, who thought such silence criminal and unchristian, into his presence. At last the danger became so imminent, that it could be no longer concealed.

Ferdinand received the intimation with a decent fortitude, and touched, perhaps, with compunction at the injustice which he had done his grandson, or influenced by the honest remonstrances of Carvajal, Zapata, and Vargas, his most ancient and faithful counselors, who represented to him, that by investing prince Ferdinand with the regency, he would infallibly entail a civil war on the two brothers, and by bestowing on him the grand master ship of the military orders, would strip the crown of its noblest ornament and chief strength, he consented to alter his will with respect to both these particulars. By a new deed he left Charles the sole heir of all his dominions, and allotted to prince Ferdinand, instead of that throne of which he thought himself almost secure, an inconsiderable establishment of fifty thousand ducats a year. He died a few hours after signing this will, on the twenty-third day of January, one thousand five hundred and sixteen.

Charles, to whom such a noble inheritance descended by his death, was near the full age of sixteen. He had hitherto resided in the Low Countries, his paternal dominions. Margaret of Austria, his aunt, and Margaret of York, the sister of Edward IV of England, and widow of Charles the Bold, two princesses of great virtue and abilities, had the care of forming his early youth. Upon the death of his father, the Flemings committed the government of the Low Countries to his grandfather, the emperor Maximilian, with the name rather than the authority of regent. Maximilian made choice of William de Croy lord of Chievres to superintend the education of the young prince his grandson. That nobleman possessed, in an eminent degree, the talents which fitted him for such an important office, and discharged the duties of it with great fidelity. Under Chievres, Adrian of Utrecht acted as preceptor. This preferment, which opened his way to the highest dignities an ecclesiastic can attain, he owed not to his birth, for that was extremely mean; nor to his interest, for he was a stranger to the arts of a court: but to the opinion which his countrymen entertained of his learning. He was indeed no inconsiderable proficient in those frivolous sciences, which, during several centuries, assumed the name of philosophy, and had published a commentary, which was highly esteemed, upon he Book of Sentences, a famous treatise of Petrus Lombardus, considered at that time as the standard system of metaphysical theology. But whatever admiration these procured him in an illiterate age, it was soon found that a man accustomed to the retirement of a college, unacquainted with the world, and without any tincture of taste or elegance, was by no means qualified for rendering science agreeable to a young, prince. Charles, accordingly, discovered an early aversion to learning, and an excessive fondness for those violent and martial exercises, to excel in which was the chief pride, and almost the only study, of persons of rank in that age. Chievres encouraged this taste, either from a desire of gaining his pupil by indulgence, or from too slight an opinion of the advantages of literary accomplishments. He instructed him, however, with great care in the arts of government; he made him study the history not only of his own kingdoms, but of those with which they were connected; he accustomed him, from the time of his assuming the government of Flanders in the year one thousand five hundred and fifteen to attend to business; he persuaded him to peruse all papers relating to public affairs; to be present at the deliberations of his privy-counselors, and to propose to them himself those matters, concerning which he required their opinion. From such an education, Charles contracted habits of gravity and recollection which scarcely suited his time of life. The first openings of his genius did not indicate that superiority which its maturer age displayed. He did not discover in his youth the impetuosity of spirit which commonly ushers in an active and enterprising manhood. Nor did his early obsequiousness to Chievres, and his other favorites, promise that capacious and decisive judgment, which afterwards directed the affairs of one half of Europe. But his subjects, dazzled with the external accomplishments of a graceful figure and manly address, and viewing his character with that partiality which is always shown to princes during their youth, entertained sanguine hopes of his adding luster to those crowns which descended to him by the death of Ferdinand.

The kingdoms of Spain, as is evident from the view which I have given of their political constitution, were at that time in a situation which required an administration no less vigorous than prudent. The feudal institutions, which had been introduced into all its different provinces by the Goths, the Suevi, and the Vandals, subsisted in great force. The nobles, who were powerful and warlike, had long possessed all the ex­orbitant privileges which these institutions vested in their order. The cities in Spain were more numerous and more considerable, than the genius of feudal government, naturally unfavorable to commerce and to regular police, seemed to admit. The personal rights, and political influence, which the inhabitants of these cities had acquired, were extensive. The royal prerogative, circumscribed by the privileges of the nobility, and by the pretensions of the people, was confined within very narrow limits. Under such a form of government, the principles of discord were many; the bond of union was extremely feeble; and Spain felt not only all the inconveniences occasioned by the defects in the feudal system, but was exposed to disorders arising from the peculiarities in its own constitution.

During the long administration of Ferdinand, no internal commotion, it is true, had arisen in Spain. His superior abilities had enabled him to restrain the turbulence of the nobles, and to moderate the jealousy of the commons. By the wisdom of his domestic government, by the sagacity with which he conducted his foreign operations, and by the high opinion which his subjects entertained of both, he had preserved among them a degree of tranquility, greater than was natural to a constitution, in which the seeds of discord and disorder were so copiously mingled. But, by the death of Ferdinand, these restraints were at once withdrawn; and faction and discontent, from being long repressed, were ready to break out with fiercer animosity.

 

The Regency of Cardinal Ximenes