WITH DON CARLOS AGAIN
When I left Don Carlos in Spain after my visit to his Army I little
thought that we were again to come into close touch and I was to spend
much time with him and my cousin, Pepe Ponce de Leon, his A.D.C. It was a
few days after I had received my commission and I was enjoying my leave
previous to joining up at Woolwich in April (1876), when (I think it was
the morning of March 8) I received a telegram from the War Office asking
me to call there as soon as possible.
As, for the next four or five months, I was a great deal with Don Carlos
in London and in France, I think it will be of interest to my readers if
I describe shortly the validity, or otherwise, of his claim to the throne
of Spain. Ferdinand VII of Spain, when an old man, married in 1830 Dona
Maria Cristina, a young girl, sister of Dona Carlota, wife of his
brother, Francisco de Paula. Cristina was not only young but also clever
and beautiful. Contrary to expectation, it was announced later on that
the Queen was about to become a mother. If the expected child was a son,
then of course that son would be the heir to the throne. If it was a
daughter, the question of her right to the succession would arise! In
1713 Philip V had applied the Salic Law; Carlos IV had repealed it in
1789. Now Don Carlos, brother of Ferdinand VII, had been born in 1788 and
therefore claimed the succession in case his brother Ferdinand died
without male issue. On October 10, 1830, Cristina gave birth to a girl,
the Infanta Isabella. In March of that same year Ferdinand had made a
will bequeathing the Crown of Spain to the child about to be born,
whether male or female.
Ferdinand, who had become very ill, fell again under the influence of the
clerics and of the supporters of his brother, Don Carlos, who induced him
to revoke his will. However, to the surprise of everybody, Ferdinand
recovered, and under the direct influence of Dona Carlota, Cristina's
sister, he tore up the document and, before a representative assembly of
his Ministers of State, swore that he had repealed his will only under
direct pressure while sick to death. Ferdinand's illness had become so
severe that Cristina was appointed Regent, and acted as such till January
4, 1833, when Ferdinand recovered. On June 20, 1833, Ferdinand, still
most anxious to secure the throne to his offspring, whether male or
female, convened a Cortes at Madrid which confirmed his wishes. On
September 29 he died. Cristina became Regent and the Infanta Isabella
Queen of Spain. Don Carlos refused to recognize Isabella's rights to the
throne. The enactments of Philip V and Ferdinand--no matter by whom
made--could not affect his own divine rights, as all such enactments had
been given effect to after he himself was born.
I must admit that it appears to be most difficult to convince the direct
descendants of Don Carlos that they have not been deprived of their just
rights. My readers are at full liberty to decide this difficult problem.
This does not matter to us, it is an interesting episode in the history
of one of the oldest reigning families, the Bourbons. The first
formidable rising took place at about November 14, 1833. Estella became
the seat of Government of Don Carlos during the war, which lasted till
the middle of the year 1840. Our Don Carlos was the son of his
grandfather's third son, Juan.
CARLOS = Francesca de Avis
| (daughter of Joan VI of Portugal)
|
+-------------+--------------+
| | |
Carlos Luis Fernando Juan
{_________________________} |
(died on same day. No issue) |
|
Carlos Maria
|
|
Jaime
If you remember, I had left Don Carlos shortly after he had frustrated
Alfonso's plans early in 1875 by the decisive defeat of the Royalist Army
under General Laserta. The success he achieved there did not prove of
much value, in spite of the fact that the Royalist Army were very slow in
reorganizing. The result of King Alfonso's accession caused many of the
supporters of Don Carlos, who were fighting chiefly against the Republic,
to become lukewarm. The war continued to drag on. Finally, weakened by
the desertion of some of his chief supporters and the recantation of the
famous Cabrera, and being completely outnumbered by the Royalist forces,
Don Carlos, accompanied by a few of his staunchest friends and one
battalion of men from Castile, crossed over the border into France. The
second Carlist war was over February 29, 1876.
As they had been decreed rebels, the French Government of the day refused
Don Carlos and his officers permission to remain in France. They were,
however, allowed to proceed to England, provided no halt took place on
the way. Don Carlos notified the British Government of his intended
arrival in England, hoping he would receive the requisite permission to
proceed thither. It was the receipt of this telegram from Don Carlos that
was the cause of my being sent for by the War Office early in March,
1876.
On my calling at the War Office on receipt of their wire the Military
Secretary informed me that it was expected that Don Carlos, accompanied
by several officers, might arrive at any time in London, and instructed
me to make all the necessary arrangements for his comfort and welfare.
Soon after receiving these instructions I got a further telegram advising
me that Don Carlos would arrive that very same evening at about 8 p.m. at
Charing Cross Station, and further, that he and his party would actually
arrive in the very clothes in which they had left the field of battle,
for they had had no time or opportunity to obtain any personal effects
during their flight through France.
It was then that my mind took me back to Brown's Hotel and Mr. Ford, its
proprietor, at which hotel King Alfonso had often stayed, and Mr. Ford
promised me to arrange to put up Don Carlos and his suite. My next
business was to call upon tailors, hosiers, hatters and bootmakers in
Bond Street, and to arrange for them to have their representatives at the
hotel that evening to receive their orders.
I was at the station at the appointed time, and the travel-stained party,
in their picturesque Carlist uniforms, arrived. I can well remember the
impression that they made on their arrival. Such of the public as
happened to be present looked on in silent wonder at the group of foreign
officers. The rumour soon spread that the tall, commanding figure, erect
and distinguished, whose handsome face and black beard were surmounted by
the Carlist headgear, the "Boyna," was the celebrated Don Carlos himself,
of whom some of them had heard as a great leader and who was now seeking
refuge in England. We were not long in reaching our carriages--there was
no luggage to cause us any delay--and we were glad to arrive at Brown's
Hotel and sit down to the good dinner that awaited us.
The tradesmen who attended to the personal wants of our guests worked
wonders, and, in a very few days, the visitors were all provided with
complete outfits. Many thoughts went through my mind in those few days.
Within a year I had been the companion of a young prince, whose mother
had practically been expelled from her throne and who had himself been
exiled from his country; a young prince who, for some years, had been
full of hopes of succeeding to the Crown and whose hopes had seemed
always to be difficult of fulfilment and not likely to be realized. Yet
he was now King. On the other hand, the man who had fought for that
throne and had almost succeeded in attaining it was taking refuge, not
only in the same country and city, but also in the same hotel where his
successful antagonist had spent the last hours of his exile. The ways of
Providence are certainly wonderful.
As a result of diplomatic communications, Don Carlos and those with him
were permitted to reside in England until arrangements could be made for
their return to France. At his request permission was granted me to be
attached to his Staff during his stay. He was naturally very much run
after by lion-hunters, and many were the entertainments that were given
in his honour. But the hours he enjoyed best were those which he spent
amongst his old supporters, not only those whose homes were in London and
in the country, but also those who, after his refusal to accept the
amnesty offered by Alfonso, had been compelled to leave Spain and take
refuge in England. There were some seventeen thousand families then
expelled from Spain. My days were fully occupied in making all the
arrangements for visiting in the country, dinners, balls, theatre
parties. In fact, it was a constant round of pleasure and amusement.
The visitors--especially Don Carlos himself--were most anxious to ride to
hounds. It was a difficult matter to mount so large a number, as the
horses had to be hired, and we all know how difficult it is to depend on
hired horses in the hunting field. Perhaps the biggest problem was to
find a horse suitable to Don Carlos. He stood six-foot three and must
have ridden somewhere over sixteen stone. I was despairing of success
when I mentioned my difficulty to Mr. Ford. He at once relieved me of all
anxiety. He told me he thought he could mount Don Carlos and two or three
of the others out of his own private stables. It was a right jolly good
day we had. There was to be a meet of Sir Robert Harvey's Harriers
somewhere in the neighbourhood of Staines, I think, and Mr. Ford kindly
arranged all the details. The party returned home more than satisfied
with the day's sport. So time passed, only too quickly, and the day came
for their departure. We said good-bye, and I went back to duty.
[Illustration: DON CARLOS]
Some three months later I was agreeably surprised to receive an official
letter stating that Don Carlos had written from Paris expressing the
wish, if it could be granted, that, as some recompense for all the
trouble and, as he put it, hard work, that had fallen to my lot while
looking after him during his stay in London, I might be allowed a month's
leave to stay with him in Paris. The official letter notified me that the
necessary leave had been granted. Once again I was crossing the Channel,
full of contentment, as in the days when I left Woolwich to join him in
Spain. But my hopes were very much brighter. I was not going to see
battles fought or undergo hardships. No; I was going to enjoy myself
thoroughly.
On arrival in Paris I met my cousin, Pepe Ponce de Leon, the aide-de-camp
referred to before. He had, shortly after his return to Paris from
England, married a very rich widow, whose husband had been one of Don
Carlos's principal supporters. They had a beautiful and magnificent house
in the Champs Elysees, which, as a matter of fact, became the
headquarters of the Carlist supporters in Paris, and Pepe had arranged
that it should be my home during my stay. Life indeed was worth living in
those days. Every luxury that one could wish for was at hand, and perhaps
the most enjoyable one was the splendid stud of horses, harness and
riding, which my cousin had got together.
Our usual routine was as follows: _Dejeuner_ was served at noon, at which
Don Carlos generally was present and as many of his late officers and
supporters as cared to come. These _dejeuners_ were full of interest,
party affairs being discussed, but often also full of conviviality
notwithstanding the evil fortunes which had fallen upon the cause. Later
on in the afternoon riding and driving parties were arranged for. In the
evening banquets or private dinner parties were the order of the day,
after which we all made our own plans to amuse ourselves. Paris was very
gay and we generally managed to foregather again at midnight, or
thereabouts, for supper at one or other of the many cafes, where music
and dancing would be enjoyed. I soon discovered that some of our intimate
friends were in the habit, instead of proceeding home to their beds after
supper, of visiting the Turkish baths. After enjoying the bath they would
sleep until the carriages arrived, and then, after partaking of chocolate
or coffee, as they desired, they would be driven off home to sleep again
until the time to appear at _dejeuner_ should arrive once more. And so
the days and nights passed, and enough for the day was the pleasure
thereof.
It was about this time that a reconciliation took place between King
Alfonso's mother, Queen Isabella, and Don Carlos, of a personal but not
official character. The proverb, "Blood is thicker than water," sometimes
comes true. The two were near relations. They had no personal quarrels.
Her own destiny was settled and Don Carlos's own efforts to wrest the
Crown from her son had ended in failure. Why, therefore, any need for
further enmity? I am reminded of a quaint conceit of Isabella's, which
amused not only her but also her friends. Isabella had grown to be a
woman of large proportions--in fact, of unmistakable proportions. One of
her favourite ladies-in-waiting was similarly endowed by nature, if not
more so. Isabella's hospitality was noted for its old magnificence. Her
entertainments were, one might say, superb. She delighted in masked
balls, and it was her pleasure to move in the crowd of guests, masked,
without being recognized. As her wish in this was made known to her
guests, the pleasing illusion was kept up till the hour for unmasking
arrived.