This double tragedy is pathetically described by the historian, Peter Martyr, who draws an affecting picture of the anguish of the young widow, and the bereaved parents. 'Thus was laid low the hope of all Spain.' 'Never was there a death which occasioned such deep and general lamentation throughout the land.' Ferdinand, fearful of the effect which the sudden news of this calamity might have on the queen, caused letters to be sent at brief intervals, containing accounts of the gradual decline of the prince's health, so as to prepare her for the inevitable stroke. Isabella, however, received the fatal tidings in a spirit of humble resignation, saying, 'The Lord hath given and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be his name!'[12] [12] Prescott. Another historian relates that Ferdinand, fearing that the sudden news of John's death would kill Isabella with grief, caused her to be told that it was her husband, Ferdinand himself, that had died, so that when he presented himself before her, the--as he supposed--lesser grief of her son's death should be mitigated by seeing that her husband was alive. The experiment does not appear to have been very successful, as Isabella was profoundly affected when she heard the truth. (Florez, _Reinas Catolicas_.) The blow was one from which she never recovered. John was her only son, her 'angel' from the time of his birth, and the dearest wish of her heart had been the unification of Spain under him and his descendants.[13] Every honour which affection could devise was paid to Prince John's memory. The Court, to testify its unwonted grief, put on sackcloth instead of white serge usually worn as mourning. All offices, public and private, were closed for forty days; and every one dressed in black. The nobles and wealthy people draped their mules with black cloth down to the knees, showing only their eyes, and black flags were suspended from the walls and gates of the cities. Such extraordinary signs of public sorrow show in what regard the young prince was held. Peter Martyr, his tutor, is unbounded in his admiration of his royal pupil's character, whose brilliant promise and intellectual and moral excellence untimely death, and that of his infant child. [13] Martin Hume, _Queens of Old Spain_.