For this purpose, though under pretence of renewing the war against Persia, he ordered Rustan to march towards Diarbequir at the head of a numerous army, and to rid him of a son whose life he deemed inconsistent with his own safety. But that crafty minister did not choose to be loaded with the odium of having executed this cruel order. As soon as he arrived in Syria he wrote to Solyman, that the danger was so imminent as called for his immediate presence; that the camp was full of Mustapha's emissaries; that many of the soldiers were corrupted; that the affections of all leaned towards him; that he had discovered a negociation which had been carried on with the sophi of Persia in order to marry Mustapha with one of his daughters; that he already felt his own talents as well as authority to be inadequate to the exigencies of such an arduous conjuncture; that the sultan alone had sagacity to discern what resolution should be taken in those circumstances, and power to carry that resolution into execution. This charge of courting the friendship of the sophi, Roxalana and Rustan had reserved as the last and most envenomed of all their calumnies. It operated with the violence which they expected from Solyman's inveterate abhorrence of the Persians, and threw him into the wildest transports of rage. He set out instantly for Syria, and hastened thither with all the precipitation and impatience of fear and revenge. As soon as he joined his army near Aleppo, and had concerted measures with Rustan, he sent a chiaus, or messenger of the court, to his son, requi ring him to repair immediately to his presence. Mustapha, though no stranger to his step-mother's machinaticus, or to Rustan's malice, or to his father's violent temper, yet relying on his own innocence, and hoping to discredit the accusations of his enemies by the prompitude of his obedience, followed the messenger without delay to Aleppo. The moment he arrived in the camp, he was introduced into the sultan's tent. As he entered it, he observed nothing that could give him any alarm; no additional BOOK XL 1553 XI. 1553. BOOK crowd of attendants, no body of armed guards, but the same order and silence which always reign in the sultan's apartments. In a few minutes, however, several mutes appeared; at the sight of whom Mustapha, knowing what was his doom, cried with a loud voice, Lo, my death!" and attempted to fly. The mutes rushed forward to seize him; he resisted and struggled, demanding with the utmost earnestness to see the sultan; and despair, together with the hope of finding protection from the soldiers, if he could escape out of the tent, animated him with such extraordinary strength, that, for some time, he baffled all the efforts of the executioners. Solyman, was within hearing of his son's cries, as well as of the noise which the struggle occasioned. Impatient of this delay of his revenge, and struck with terror at the thoughts of Mustapha's escaping, he drew aside the curtain which divided the tent, and thrusting in his head, darted a fierce look towards the mutes, and, with wild and threatening gestures, seemed to condemn their sloth and timidity. At sight of his father's furious and unrelenting countenance, Mustapha's strength failed, and his courage forsook him; the mutes fastened the bow-string about his neck, and in a moment put an end to his life. The dead body was exposed before the sultan's tent. The soldiers gathered round it, and contemplating that mournful object with astonishment, and sorrow, and indignation, were ready, if a leader had not been wanting, to have broke out into the wildest excesses of rage. After giving vent to the first expressions of their grief, they retired each man to his tent, and shutting themselves up, bewailed in secret the cruel fate of their favourite ; nor was there one of them who tasted food, or even water, during the remainder of that day. Next morning the same solitude and silence reigned in the camp; and Solyman, being afraid that some dreadful storm would follow this sullen calm, in order to appease the enraged soldiers, deprived Rustan of the seals, ordered him to leave the samp, and raised Achmet, a gallant officer, much beloved XI. 1553 in the army, to the dignity of visier. This change, how- BOOK ever, was made in concert with Rustan himself; that crafty minister suggesting it as the only expedient which could save himself or his master. But within a few months, when the resentment of the soldiers began to subside, and the name of Mustapha to be forgotten, Achmet was strangled by the sultan's command, and Rustan reinstated in the office of visier. Together with his former power, he reassumed the plan for exterminating the race of Mustapha which he had concerted with Roxalana; and as they were afraid that an only son whom Mustapha had left, might grow up to avenge his death, they redoubled their activity, and by employing the same arts against him which they had practised against his father, they inspired Solyman with the same fears, and prevailed on him to issue orders for putting to death that young innocent prince. These orders were executed with barbarous zeal, by an eunuch, who was dispatched to Burso, the place where the prince resided; and no rival was left to dispute the Ottoman throne with the sons of Roxalana t. marriage Such tragical scenes, productive of so deep distress, sel- Charles dom occur but in the history of the great monarchies of projects a the East, where the warmth of the climate seems to give between his son and every emotion of the heart its greatest force, and the absoMary of lute power of sovereigns accustoms and enables them to England. gratify all their passions without controul. While this interesting transaction in the court of Solyman engaged his whole attention, Charles was pursuing, with the utmost ardour, a new scheme for aggrandizing his family. About this time, Edward VI. of England, after a short reign, in which he displayed such virtues as filled his subjects with sanguine hopes of being happy under his government, and made them bear with patience all that they suffered from the weakness, the dissensions, and the * Augerii Gislenii Busbequii Legationis Turcicæ Epistolæ iv, Franc. 1615, p. 37. Thuan. lib. xii, p, 432. Mem. de Ribier, ii, 457. Maureceni Histor. Veneta, lib. vii, p. 60. XI. 1553. BOOK ambition of the ministers who assumed the administration during his minority, was seized with a lingering distemper, which threatened his life. The emperor no sooner received an account of this, than his ambition, always attentive to seize every opportunity of acquiring an increase of power, or of territories, to his son, suggested the thought of adding England to his other kingdoms, by the marriage of Philip with the princess Mary, the heir of Edward's crown. Being apprehensive, however, that his son, who was then in Spain, might decline a match. with a princess in her thirty-eight year, and eleven years older than himself", Charles determined, notwithstanding his own age and infirmities, to make offer of himself as a husband to his cousin. To which Philip gives his consent. But though Mary was so far advanced in years, and destitute of every charm, either of person or manners, that could win affection or command esteem, Philip, without hesitation, gave his consent to the match proposed by his father, and was willing, according to the usual maxim of princes, to sacrifice his inclination to his ambition. In order to ensure the success of his scheme, the emperor, even before Edward's death, began to take such steps as might facilitate it. Upon Edward's demise, Mary mounted the throne of England; the pretensions of the lady Jane Gray proving as unfortunate as they were ill founded 3. Charles sent immediately a pompous embassy to London to congratulate Mary on her accession to the throne, and The senti- to propose the alliance with his son. The queen, dazzled Mary and with the prospect of marrying the heir of the greatest of the Eng-monarch in Europe; fond of uniting more closely with her mother's family, to which she had been always warm. ly attached; and eager to secure the powerful aid which she knew would be necessary towards carrying on her favourite scheme of re-establishing the Romish religion in England, listened in the most favourable manner to the proposal. Among her subjects, it met with a very differ ments of lish with regard to it. Palav. Hist. Concil. Trid v. ii, c. 13, p. 150. * Carte's Hist. of England, iii, 287. XI. 1553 ent reception. Philip, it was well known, contended for BOOK all the tenets of the church of Rome with a sanguinary zeal, which exceeded the measure even of Spanish bigotry; this alarmed all the numerous partisans of the reformation. The Castilian haughtiness and reserve were far from being acceptable to the English, who, having several times seen their throne occupied by persous who were born subjects, had become accustomed to an unceremonious and familiar intercourse with their sovereigns. They could not think, without the utmost uneasiness, of admitting a foreign p. nce to that influence in their councils, which the husband of their queen would naturally possess. They dreaded, both from Philip's over-bearing temper, and from the maxims of the Spanish monarchy which he had imbibed, that he would infuse ideas into the queen's mind dangerous to the liberties of the nation, and would introduce foreign troops and money into the kingdom, to assist her in any attempt against them. remon Full of these apprehensions, the house of commons,"The house though in that age extremely obsequious to the will of their of commons monarchs, presented a warm address against the Spanish match; many pamphlets were published, representing the against it. dangerous consequences of the alliance with Spain, and describing Philip's bigotry and arrogance in the most odious colours. But Mary, inflexible in all her resolutions, paid no regard to the remonstrances of her commons, or to the sentiments of the people. The emperor, having secured, by various arts, the ministers whom she trusted most, they approved warmly of the match, and large sums were remitted by him in order to gain the rest of the couneil. Cardinal Pole, whom the pope, immediately upon Mary's accession, had dispatched as his legate into England, in order to reconcile his native country to the see of Rome, was detained, by the emperor's command, at Dillinghen in Germany, lest by his presence he should thwart Philip's pretensions, and employ his interest in favour of his kinsman Courtnay, earl of Devonshire, whom the |