which Solyman was superstitiously attached, and proposed to found and endow a royal mosque, a work of great expense, but deemed by the Turks meritorious in the highest degree. The mufti whom she consulted, approved much of her pious intention; but having been gained and instructed by Rustan, told her, that she being a slave could derive no benefit herself from that holy deed, for all the merit of it would accrue to Solyman, the master whose property she was. Upon this she seemed to be overwhelmed with sorrow, and to sink into the deepest melancholy, as if she had been disgusted with life and all its enjoyments. Solyman, whe was absent with the army, being informed of this dejection of mind, and of the cause from which it proceeded, discovered all the solicitude of a lover to remove it, and by a writing under his hand declared her a free woman. Roxalana having gained this point, proceeded to build the mosque, and reassumed her usual gayety of spirit. But when Solyman, on his return to Constantinople, sent a eunuch, according to the custom of the seraglio, to bring her to partake of his bed, she seemingly with deep regret, but in the most peremptory manner, declined to follow the eunuch, declaring that what had been an honour to her while a slave, became a crime as she was now a free woman, and that she would not involve either the sultan or herself in the guilt that must be contracted by such an open violation of the law of their prophet. Solyman, whose passion this difficulty, as well as the affected delicacy which gave rise to it, heightened and inflamed, had recourse immediately to the mufti for his direction. He replied, agreeably to the koran, the Roxalana's scruples were well founded; but added, artfully, in words which Rustan had taught him to use, that it was in the sultan's power to remove these difficulties, by espousing her as his lawful wife. The amorous monarch closed eagerly with the proposal, and solemnly married her, according to the form of the Mahometan ritual; though, by doing so, be disregarded a maxim of policy which the pride of the Ottoman blood had taught all the sultans since Bajazet I. to consider as inviolable. From his time, none of the Turkish monarchs had married, because, when he was vanquished and taken prisoner by Tamerlane, his wife had been abused with barbarous insolence by the Tartars. That no similar calamity might again subject the Ottoman family to the same disgrace, the sultans admitted none to their beds but slaves, whose dishonour could not bring any such stain upon their house.

But the more uncommon the step was, the more it convinced Roxalana of the unbounded influence which she had acquired over the sultan's heart; and emboldened her to prosecute, with greater hope of success, the scheme that she had formed in order to destroy Mustapha. This young prince having been intrusted by his father, according to the prac tice of the sultans in that age, with the government of several different provinces, was at that time invested with the administration in Diarbequir, the ancient Mesopotamia, which Solyman had wrested from the Persians, and added to his empire. In all these different commands, Mustapha had conducted himself with such cautious prudence as could give no offence to his father, though, at the same time, he governed with so much moderation as well as justice, and displayed such valour and generosity, as rendered him equally the favourite of the people and the darling of the soldiery.

There was no room to lay any folly or vice to his charge, that could impair the high opinion which his father entertained of him. Roxalana's malevolence was more refined; she turned his virtues against him, and made use of these as engines for his destruction. She often mentioned, in Solyman's presence, the splendid qualities of his son; she celebrated his courage, his liberality, his popular arts, with malicious and exaggerated praise. As soon as she perceived that the sultan heard these encomiums, which were often repeated. with uneasiness; that suspicion of his son

began to mingle itself with his former esteem; and that by degrees he came to view him with jealousy and fear; she introduced, as by accident, some discourse concerning the rebellion of his father Selim against Bajazet his grandfather: she took notice of the bravery of the veteran troops under Mustapha's command, and of the neighbourhood of Diarbequir to the territories of the Persian sophi, Solyman's mortal enemy. By these arts, whatever remained of paternal tenderness was gradually extinguished, and such passions were kindled in the breast of the sultan, as gave all Roxalana's malignant suggestions the colour not only of probability but of truth. His suspicions and fear of Mustapha settled into deep-rooted hatred. He appointed spies to observe and report all his words and actions; he watched and stood on his guard against him as his most dangerous enemy.

Having thus alienated the sultan's heart from Mustapha, Roxalana ventured upon another step. She entreated Solyman to allow her own sons the liberty of appearing at court, hoping that by gaining access to their father, they might, by their good qualities and dutiful deportment, insinuate themselves into that place in his affections which Mustapha had formerly held; and though what she demanded was contrary to the practice of the Ottoman family in that age, the uxorious monarch granted her request. To all these female intrigues Rustan added an artifice still more subtle, which completed the sultan's delusion, and heightened his jealousy and fear. He wrote to the bashaws of the provinces adjacent to Diarbequir, instructing them to send him regular intelligence of Mustapha's proceedings in his government, and to each of them he gave a private hint, flowing in appearance from his zeal for their interest, that nothing would be more acceptable to the sultan than to receive favourable accounts of a son whom he destined to sustain the glory of the Ottoman name. The bashaws, ignorant of his fraudulent intention, and eager to pay court to their sovereign at such an easy price, filled their letters with studied but fatal panegyrics of Mustapha, representing him as a prince worthy to succeed such an illustrious father, and as endowed with talents which might enable him to emulate, perhaps to equal, his fame. These letters were industriously shown to Solyman, at the seasons when it was known that they would make the deepest impression. Every expression in recommendation of his son wounded him to the heart; he suspected his principal officers of being ready to favour the most desperate attempts of a prince whom they were so fond of praising; and fancying that he saw them already assaulting his throne with rebellious arms, he determined, while it was yet in his power, to anticipate the blow, and to secure his own safety by his son's death.

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 negotiation 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 he 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 calum

nies. 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, requiring him to repair immediately to his presence. Mustapha, though no stranger to his stepmother's machinations, 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 promptitude 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 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 camp, and raised Achmet, a gallant officer much beloved in the army, to the dignity of vizier. This change, however, 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, Achinet was strangled by the sultan's command, and Rustan reinstated in the office of vizier. 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 despatched to Bursa, the place where the prince resided;

and no rival was left to dispute the Ottoman throne with the sons of Roxalana.*

Such tragical scenes, productive of so deep distress, seldom occur but in the history of the great monarchies of the East, where the warmth of the climate seems to give every emotion of the heart its greatest force, and the absolute power of sovereigns accustoms and enables them to gratify all their passions without control. 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 the sixth 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 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-eighth 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.

But though Mary was so far advanced in years, and destitute of every charm either of person or of 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 Grey proving as unfortunate as they were ill-founded. Charles sent immediately a pompous embassy to London to congratulate Mary on her accession to the throne, and to propose the alliance with his son. The queen, dazzled with the prospect of marrying the heir of the greatest monarch in Europe; fond of uniting more closely with her mother's family, to which she had been always warmly 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 different reception. Philip, it was well known, contended for 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 persons 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 prince to that influence of their councils, which the husband of their queen would naturally possess. They dreaded, both from Philip's overbearing 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

• Augerii Gislenii Busbequii Legationis Turcice Epistolæ iv. Franc. 1615, p. 37. xii. p. 432 Mem. de Ribier, ii. 457. Mauroceni Histor. Veneta, lib. vii. p. 60. Concil. Trid. v. ii e. 13. p. 150.

Carte's Hist, of England, . 287.

Thuan. lib.
Palav. Hist

t

foreign troops and money into the kingdom, to assist her in any attempt against them.

Full of these apprehensions, the house of commons, though in that age extremely obsequious to the will of their monarchs, presented a warm address against the Spanish match; many pamphlets were published, representing the 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 council. Cardinal Pole, whom the pope, immediately upon Mary's accession, had despatched 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 English ardently wished their sovereign to choose for a husband.*

As the negotiation did not admit of delay, it was carried forward with the greatest rapidity, the emperor agreeing, without hesitation, to every article in favour of England, which Mary's ministers either represented as necessary to soothe the people and reconcile them to the match, or that was suggested by their own fears and jealousy of a foreign master. The chief articles were [Jan. 12, 1554], that Philip, during his marriage with the queen, should bear the title of king of England, but the entire administration of affairs, as well as the sole disposal of all revenues, offices, and benefices, should remain with the queen; that the heirs of the marriage should, together with the crown of England, inherit the dutchy of Burgundy and the Low-Countries; that if prince Charles, Philip's only son by a former marriage, should die without issue, his children by the queen, whether male or female, should succeed to the crown of Spain, and all the emperor's hereditary dominions; that before the consummation of the marriage, Philip should swear solemnly, that he would retain no domestic who was not a subject of the queen, and would bring no foreigners into the kingdom that might give umbrage to the English; that he would make no alteration in the constitution or laws of England; that he would not carry the queen, or any of the children born of this marriage, out of the kingdom; that if the queen should die before him without issue, he would immedi ately leave the crown to the lawful heir, without claiming any right of administration whatever; that in consequence of this marriage, England should not be engaged in any war subsisting between France and Spain; and that the alliance between France and England should remain in full force.t

But this treaty, though both the emperor and Mary's ministers employed their utmost address in framing it so as to please the English, was far from quieting their fears and jealousies. They saw that words and promises were a feeble security against the encroachments of an ambitious prince, who, as soon as he got possession of the power and advantages which the queen's husband must necessarily enjoy, could easily evade any of the articles which either limited his authority or obstructed his schemes. They were convinced that the more favourable the conditions of the present treaty were to England, the more Philip would be tempted hereafter to violate them. They dreaded that England, like Naples, Milan, and the other countries annexed to Spain, would soon feel the dominion of that crown to be intolerably oppressive, and be constrained, as these had been, to waste its wealth and vigour in wars wherein it had no interest, and from ↑ Rymer's Fœd. vol. xv. 377 393. Mem. de Ribier, ii, 499.

• Carte, iii. 288,