[Sidenote: [1598-1700 A.D.]]
The two preceding reigns, being by far the most important in the modern
history of Spain, have commanded a corresponding share of our attention.
But as with Philip II ends the greatness of the kingdom, which from that
period declined with fearful rapidity,--as in the present chapter little
remains to be recorded beyond the reign of worthless favourites, the
profligacy of courts, and the deplorable weakness of government,--the
journey before us will be speedily performed.
The first courtier to whom the destinies of the peninsula were confided,
was the duke of Lerma; but as he had no talents either for peace or war,
the burden of administration devolved on a needy adventurer, Rodrigo
Calderon, one of his pages. In his domestic policy--if profligate
imbecility deserve the name--the most signal circumstance is the
expulsion of the Moriscos from Valencia, Andalusia, New Castile, and
Granada. During and after their late rebellion, those baptised infidels
were transported from the last-named kingdom, and dispersed among the
Christian inhabitants of the countries adjoining. Tranquillity could
scarcely be hoped from so arbitrary a measure; the Moriscos felt that
they had been treated with equal perfidy and cruelty, and they thirsted
for revenge. They accordingly renewed their correspondence with the
African princes and the grand seignior, whom they continually urged to
invade the peninsula, and in whose favour they promised to rise on the
first signal. Though they were compelled to attend mass, they sought in
secret ample amends for the violation of conscience, by observing the
rites of their own religion, and by heaping insult on that which they had
been constrained to honour with their lips.
The new king, Philip III, observed that he would rather be without
subjects than rule over infidels: the foolish saying was applauded by
the courtiers; and orders, dated September, 1609, were despatched to the
captains-general to force the Moriscos on board the galleys prepared for
them, and land them on the African coast. Those of Valencia, 150,000 in
number, were first expelled; they were followed, though not without great
opposition, nor in some places without open resistance, by their brethren
of the other provinces. In the whole, no fewer than 600,000 were thus
forcibly driven from their ancient habitations, omitting the mention of
such as, by assuming the disguise of Christians, spread over Catalonia
and southern France, and of the still greater number of children, who,
being born from Moriscos and hereditary Christians, were suffered to
remain. Those who disembarked in Africa were treated with characteristic
inhumanity.
In 1618, the duke of Lerma was disgraced, and the real minister, Don
Rodrigo Calderon, who had been adorned with numerous titles, was
imprisoned. Subsequently he was tortured, tried, and sentenced to death;
but, before the sentence could be put into execution, the king died.
Philip IV, however, ordered him to the block. The removal of the duke
only made way for another as imbecile and worthless as himself. So that
the king was not troubled with state business, but allowed to have his
women and his diversions, to provide for mistresses and parasites, he
cared not who held the post of minister.
The foreign transactions of this reign are too unimportant to be
detailed. In revenge for the maritime hostilities of the English, an
expedition was sent to Ireland to raise the inhabitants against the
government; but it was annihilated at Kinsale. In the Low Countries
the war continued with little glory to the archduke Albert until 1609,
when the independence of the Seven United Provinces was acknowledged
by treaty. With France there was continued peace, which, in 1612, was
strengthened by the double marriage of the prince of the Asturias with
Isabella de Bourbon, and of Louis XIII with the infanta Anne [Anne of
Austria], eldest daughter of the Spanish monarch. With the Venetians,
Turks, and Moors of Africa there were some engagements, but nothing
decisive was the result. Spain still retained the duchy of Milan, the
kingdom of Naples, Sicily, and Sardinia, and the fortresses on the
African coast.
Philip died March 31st, 1621. Besides his heir, and Anne, queen of
France, he left children--Maria, queen of Hungary, Don Carlos and Don
Ferdinand, who entered the church, and attained the dignity of cardinal.
His character needs no description: it was chiefly distinguished for
helpless imbecility, for dissipation, and idleness.[c]
CAUSES OF SPAIN’S RAPID DECLINE
[Sidenote: [1598-1621 A.D.]]
The rapid conquest of the Palatinate by the Spanish army, under the
marquis Spinola, and the decisive battle of Prague, which the emperor
gained by means of the treasures of Spain, brightened the last
days of Philip III with a transient lustre. But the constitutional
melancholy inherent in the Castilian line--the taint of the blood
of Juana--predominated over all the excitement of victory and its
exhilarating consequences. The gloom which had overcast the mind of the
king could not be dispelled by the most brilliant successes; and those
triumphs which, towards the close of his reign, diffused universal joy
throughout Spain, conveyed no gladness to the breast of its desponding
monarch.
At the accession of Philip IV, the Spanish monarchy had much declined
from that supremacy which it had so long held among the nations. Its
territory indeed was but little diminished, and if power could be
measured by extent of dominion, Spain was still the most potent kingdom
in Europe. But its energy was in a great measure spent, and its resources
were nearly drained.
In every country there is an epoch of exhaustion as well as of
excitement; and in the political constitution, not less than in the
bodily frame, the period of depression quickly follows on that of
excitation. The growth of the Spanish monarchy had been rapid and
gigantic--more so, perhaps, than that of any sovereignty, except the
Grecian Empire of Alexander. But its sudden increase of power had been
somewhat forced and premature. It was produced by the matrimonial
alliances of its sovereigns, by accidental discoveries which opened as if
by miracle the gates of dominion, and by the pre-eminent talents of a few
individuals, who, within a short compass of time, rose in constellation
on Spain--Ferdinand the Catholic, with his illustrious queen Isabella,
Gonsalvo de Cordova, Cardinal Ximenes, and the emperor Charles. Its
progress in power was not accompanied by a corresponding expansion of
intellect, or advancement in knowledge. The time of its supremacy was
consequently brief, and the decay which it suffered during the short
reign of Philip III was more swift than any recorded in the history of
the decline or fall of empires.
But though Spain had thus sunk in the space of a few years, the causes
of its depression may be traced through a much longer period, and may
even be found in the era of its augmentation and prosperity. Spain had
not enjoyed but abused her strength; and if the maxim be just, that an
immeasurable ambition is the ruin of nations, never was country better
entitled to destruction. As early as the reign of Charles V, the kingdom
had been emptied both of men and treasure to support foreign wars.
The discovery of America and its mines ought naturally to have given
fresh vigour to industry and commerce; and it undoubtedly promoted them
for a time. But, borne away by political events, energy was diverted from
domestic industry, the truest source of national wealth and greatness,
to foreign colonisation and adventure. The discovery of treasures which
they believed to be inexhaustible, and the example of immense and
rapid fortunes acquired in America and the Indies, produced a contempt
of tillage, and even for the manufactures, the profits of which were
comparatively inconsiderable and distant. Persons, too, of a certain rank
and birth, however poor they might be, were precluded by the prevailing
notions from procuring a subsistence by the exercise of the mechanic
arts. But in the New World they could, without shame, devote themselves
to pursuits which in their own country might not be prosecuted without
degradation. Nor did the produce of the mines afford any compensation
for the injury they thus occasioned. Expended in chimerical projects of
foreign ambition, and schemes to destroy the peace of other nations, the
tide of wealth which flowed from the western world into Spain rushed
through the land like a torrent, without fertilising it.
The extent, too, of the Spanish empire, and the distance of its various
dependencies, was another cause of its decline. In all ages, the ruins of
empires have bespoken the evils of overgrown dominion. The improvement
of remote possessions is never sufficiently attended to, while on their
account the interests of the parent state are frequently neglected.
Voiture[e] likens the Spanish monarchy to an enormous and unwieldy
vessel, of which the prow was in the Atlantic, and the stern in the
Indian Ocean. All the vice-royalties suffered by the inevitable abuses
of delegated authority, and were seldom vivified by the presence of
their princes. The whole life, indeed, of Charles V had been a continued
journey; but the Escorial was the fit habitation of his son, and Philip
enjoined to his successors a constant residence in Spain. All the
proceedings at Madrid were dilatory, and no provision was ever made for
any event which seemed to be at a tolerable distance. Others followed the
example of the court, and delay became the sole policy of the prince,
the ministry, and the governors of provinces. Whatever institutions were
favourable to liberty had been suppressed or undermined in the reign of
Charles V, and freedom was at length utterly destroyed by his despotic
and bigoted son.
Nothing, however, impresses us more strongly with a conviction of the
indolence and torpor of the Spanish race, than that the expulsion of
the Moors should have been attended by the fatal consequences which it
unquestionably produced. Elsewhere it would have occasioned no loss
or disadvantage, or would have been followed only by such temporary
inconvenience as ensued in France on the revocation of the Edict
of Nantes. But even from the time of the ancient Celtiberians, the
inhabitants of this peninsula had been disinclined to labour, and
indisposed to every species of exertion, except in war. “The peasants,”
says Madame d’Aulnoy[d] (who travelled in Spain in the middle of the
seventeenth century), “will more willingly endure hunger and all
severities of life, than work, as they tell you, like mercenaries and
slaves. Thus pride, seconded by sloth, prevents them from tilling and
sowing their land, which remains uncultivated, unless some more laborious
and worldly-minded strangers undertake the task, and thus carry off the
gains, while the sorry peasant sits in his chair, thrumming an ill-tuned
guitar, or reading some mouldy romance.”
Voiture,[e] who resided for some time at Madrid, shortly after the
accession of Philip IV, and travelled to the south of Spain with letters
of recommendation from Olivares, exhibits an amusing and graphic picture
of the indolence prevailing among the lower classes of the inhabitants.
“If it rains, the villagers who bring the bread to Madrid do not come,
though they could get a better price. When wheat is dear in Andalusia,
and they have it in Castile, nobody takes the trouble to send it or to
get it. It must be brought from France or elsewhere.”
Among all ranks celibacy prevailed in an unusual degree. Besides
seclusion in convents and nunneries, many obstacles arose to matrimony
from family pride and the disagreements of parents. Marriages were
thus contracted from interest, without choice, affection, or desire.
From these causes, and from early debauchery, the population was more
disproportioned to the means of subsistence than in any other country
of Europe; and hence the means for defence and for the acquisition of
wealth were diminished. The education of the children, such as they were,
of these enforced marriages, was shamefully neglected among the highest
classes, and indeed even in the royal family.
The riches of the church were totally disproportioned to those of the
rest of the nation, and much wealth was thus locked up in silver images
or golden lamps, which, if judiciously brought into commerce, might have
rendered many thousands of the population opulent and happy. Equally
large were the encroachments which superstition made on the time of the
inhabitants, great part of which was withdrawn from useful labour by
religious festivals, masses, processions, and purchase of pardons.
It was thus that Spain, which, of all the countries of Europe, possessed
the greatest advantages in climate, fertility, and geographical position,
became, in spite of these means of national prosperity, the poorest land
in Christendom. The gifts of nature were all in profusion still, but
human institutions had corrupted its benefits, or perverted them into
sources of weakness and decay. When the Spanish government perceived the
diminution of coin resulting from these causes, it attempted to supply
the deficiency, by imposing higher taxes on manufacturers and artificers.
But the burden became intolerable to the few remaining workmen. They fled
to Italy and Flanders, or, if they stayed at home, they relinquished
their trades, and no longer manufactured the fine wools of Andalusia
or the silks of Valencia. The ministry, having no more manufactures to
tax, next oppressed the farmers, and the imposts laid on agriculture
were as injudicious as they were numerous and excessive. “When once a
nation,” says Raynal,[f] “has begun to decline, it seldom stops. The
loss of population, of manufactures, of trade, and of agriculture, was
attended with the greatest evils. While Europe was daily improving in
knowledge, and all nations were animated with a spirit of industry, Spain
was falling into inaction and barbarism. The duties on commodities, in
their transport from one province to another, were so high that they
amounted almost to a prohibition, so that the communication was totally
interrupted. Even the transmission of money from one district to another
was forbidden. In a short time not a vestige of a road was to be seen.
Travellers were stopped at the crossing of rivers, where there were
neither boats nor bridges. There was not a single canal, and scarcely a
navigable river.”.
[Illustration: A SPANISH GENTLEMAN, TIME OF PHILIP II]
The pride of the nation had survived its greatness; its animosities had
outlived its power of oppression; but though much of animating health
and vigour was gone, the outward form was still nearly the same. The
strength of Spain was estimated by numbering its provinces and computing
the treasures of the Indies; and to the undiscerning eye of the vulgar,
Philip VI may have appeared as great a monarch as his grandsire. It
was thus that terror, as Schiller[g] expresses it, still brooded over
the lion’s forsaken den; and hence, while the provinces of Spain were
depopulated and impoverished, many powerful confederations were formed
against her, and the humiliation of the house of Austria was the subject
of the vows of politicians in all the states of Christendom. And in
fact with every disadvantage under which she laboured, and in spite of
the rapid depression she had suffered, Spain might still have regained
the lofty station she once held in the rank of kingdoms, if, at the
succession of Philip IV, a wise and energetic monarch had ascended the
throne, or if the reins of government had been intrusted to a prudent and
enlightened minister.
The supremacy of Spain over Italy, her own western mines, and the
oriental treasures supplied by the Indian empire of Portugal--all these,
which had hitherto proved but elements of decay, might, under able
administration, have afforded immense resources. The extensive frontiers
of the monarchy were still guarded by ancient renown and disciplined
valour. That celebrated infantry which was originally formed on the Swiss
model, and had been for more than a century the admiration and terror
of Europe, was still unbroken. It was encouraged by the remembrance of
a thousand triumphs, without one recollection of shame, for no signal
defeat had yet withered the laurels of St. Quentin and Pavia. The
soldiery still retained that intrepid and enterprising, though somewhat
ferocious and mutinous spirit, by which they were marked in the wars
of the Low Countries. Their renowned captain, the noble Spinola, still
survived, and many officers must yet have served in the veteran army
which had combated against Henry the Great, under the prince of Parma.
But Philip IV, though superior to his father in refinement of taste,
and in some specious exterior accomplishments, was equally deficient
in vigour of mind or solid acquirements, and was far inferior to his
predecessor in purity of life. The minister, on whom for more than twenty
years he relied with implicit confidence and devolved the uncontrolled
management of affairs, was a man of irregular genius and of vast designs,
which were but ill suited to the present condition of his country; and to
this policy, which was alternately obstinate and capricious, many have
attributed the overwhelming misfortunes of Spain.[k]
PHILIP IV “THE GREAT” (1621-1665 A.D.)
[Sidenote: [1621-1622 A.D.]]
When the new king ascended the throne he was only in his seventeenth
year, and he began, like his father, by surrendering the reins of
government to a worthless favourite. This was the count de Olivares,
who had been a gentleman of the bedchamber to the prince of Asturias.
This haughty minion commenced his career by removing from the ministry
his benefactor, the duke of Uceda, and by recalling the valiant Don
Pedro Giron, duke of Osuna, from the viceroyalty of Naples. Whoever had
ability, or popular fame or favour with the king, was sure to experience
his envy, often his deadly persecution. Every servant of the late
government was dismissed or imprisoned, to make way for creatures, if
possible, more worthless.
It is, however, certain that by revoking many of the profuse grants
made by the two preceding sovereigns by dismissing two-thirds of the
locusts in office, by enforcing the residence of many señores, by
sumptuary regulations, and other measures, he increased the revenues of
the crown. But these reforms were but temporary; the minister was too
corrupt to persevere in any line of public advantage; his object was
his own emolument, and that of his creatures. How little Spain could
flourish under such princes and such administrations may be readily
conjectured. In its internal affairs, there was the same gradual decline
of agriculture, of commerce, of the mechanical arts, and, consequently,
of the national resources; yet, while the mass of the people were thus
sinking into hopeless poverty, the court exhibited more splendour than
ever. Thus, the reception of Charles, prince of Wales, and of his tutor,
the duke of Buckingham,--who, with the view of obtaining the hand of the
infanta Maria, sister of the king, had been romantic enough to visit
Madrid in disguise,--is a favourite subject of historic description. The
English reader need not be told that this prodigal expenditure was thrown
away, and that Charles, ultimately, obtained a French princess. Still
more expensive were the festivities consequent on the election of the
king of Hungary--who had married the infanta Maria, sister of Philip--to
be king of the Romans, and, consequently, heir to the imperial crown. If
to these fooleries we add the money sent out of the kingdom to assist the
German emperor in the wars with Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden, we shall
not be surprised that the whole nation beheld the conduct of Philip and
his minister with discontent. While tens of thousands were famishing,
from the stagnation of the usual branches of industry--while plays,
pantomimes, entertainments, and other frivolities of the most costly
description were succeeding each other in the capital, in contempt of so
much misery--it required no ordinary stock of patience to witness the
disgraceful contrast. Murmurs and complaints were treated with contempt,
until the Catalans openly opposed the flagitious minister and the royal
puppet.
THE CATALAN INSURRECTION
[Sidenote: [1621-1641 A.D.]]
The profligate extravagances of the court were not the only cause which
led to the Catalan insurrection. At the close of a war with France--a war
of which mention will hereafter be made--the Castilian troops, in the
fear that hostilities would be recommenced by the enemy, were stationed
on the northern frontier, at the expense of the inhabitants, on whom they
were billeted. This regulation was as unjust as it was arbitrary, and
even odious. The people remonstrated. When the soldiers resisted, lives
were lost on both sides. The ringleaders were imprisoned or fined; to
release them formidable bands of countrymen hastened to Barcelona, the
residence of the viceroy, with the crucifix borne before them, burst open
the prisons, committed many excesses throughout the city, ill-treated
the royal officers, and ultimately killed the viceroy himself as he
was endeavouring to escape by sea.[93] From these scenes, and from the
universal hostility of the Catalans to his violent regulations, Olivares
might have learned something useful; but he was incapable of profiting
by the lessons of experience. The marquis de los Velez was sent with an
army to reduce the rebels to obedience. They implored the aid of the
French king. That aid was readily promised, but as it did not immediately
arrive, the whole principality, except the city of Tortosa, armed.
This was not all: contending that the king, by violating their ancient
privileges, had broken his compact with them, and consequently forfeited
all claim to their obedience, they proclaimed a republic. But as the
marquis had quickly reduced several important fortresses, and was
advancing, breathing revenge on the capital, the new republic was soon
destroyed by its authors, and Louis XIII proclaimed count of Barcelona.
The French monarch had accepted the dignity, even on conditions--such
was the jealous spirit of Catalan freedom--which left him the bare
protection of the province, which excluded him from the slightest
influence in it, and which in fact transformed it into a republic
under the name of a sovereign. Not that he intended to observe those
conditions, for it is admitted even by the national writers that with
his characteristic duplicity--duplicity to which he was urged by his
ambassador Argenton--he had resolved to annul them the first favourable
opportunity. After this treaty five thousand French soldiers passed the
Pyrenees; Tarragona, which now held for the king, and in which all the
royal forces were concentrated, was invested, but after a time relieved;
Castilian reinforcements arrived to make head against the enemy; near
twelve thousand French came to assist their countrymen, and Louis himself
advanced to the frontiers of Roussillon to direct their operations.
At this moment, Philip intended to conduct the war in person, and he
actually left Madrid for the purpose at the head of a considerable force;
but at Aranjuez he halted, under the pretext of waiting the arrival of
Olivares, who was in no hurry to join him. In fact, neither king nor
minister had courage enough to meet the enemy. Meantime the French armies
were actively gaining several important advantages: to counterbalance
them, Olivares formed a conspiracy in the very heart of France to
assassinate the minister Cardinal Richelieu, and even to dethrone Louis;
but it was detected, and its prime instrument was beheaded.
[Sidenote: [1641-1659 A.D.]]
Though a natural death soon called away the cardinal, his successor,
Mazarin, who succeeded also to his Macchiavelian principles, continued
the war. It lingered for years, with various success, or rather with no
decided success, to either part, until the inhabitants themselves grew
tired of the French yoke, and joined with their Castilian brethren.
Whether this change in the public feeling was owing to the haughtiness
of their allies, which is said to have been intolerable, or to the
inconsistency of the popular mind, or still more, probably, to both
united, fortune at length began to favour the arms of Philip. Still the
war with the Netherlands and with the Portuguese, to which allusion
will shortly be made, rendered the Spanish court desirous of peace. The
wish was shared by Mazarin, whose resources were nearly exhausted by
hostilities of so many years’ continuance, and in so many countries.
In 1659, the plenipotentiaries of both powers met at St. Jean-de-Luz,
and the conditions of peace, after three months’ deliberation, were
sanctioned by the respective monarchs.[c]
It may be well here to give a brief review of the larger politics of
Spain in Europe during and after the Thirty Years’ War, though fuller
details must be looked for in the histories of France and the other
countries concerned.[a]
THE THIRTY YEARS’ WAR AND THE TREATY OF THE PYRENEES
[Sidenote: [1619-1659 A.D.]]
The incessant efforts of the Austrian princes to cement the union of
their families, and secure the reciprocal succession to their respective
dominions, had been no less sedulously opposed by France, than their
projects of conquest and aggrandisement. In the pursuit of this object,
the address and good fortune of the French repeatedly triumphed over the
inveterate hostility of the rival house; and by dexterously availing
themselves of times and circumstances, they succeeded in forming
frequent marriages between the two families of France and Spain. Philip
II espoused Isabella, a princess of France; a double match was also
concluded between the infanta Anne, daughter of Philip III, and Louis
XIII, and between Isabella, sister of the French monarch, and the prince
of Asturias, afterwards Philip IV. To obviate, however, the mischiefs
likely to ensue from these occasional aberrations of policy, the Austrian
sovereigns endeavoured to guard and fortify their respective pretensions
to the family inheritance, by renunciations, compacts, and treaties.
These marriages and arrangements formed only temporary suspensions
of hostility. In 1619, the long and eventful contest of the Thirty
Years’ War commenced. The Spanish monarchy, already weakened by past
disasters, was shaken to its foundations. Exactions rendered necessary
by the diminished resources of the government, joined with the abuses
inseparable from delegated power, excited civil troubles: the progress
of its decline was marked by a rebellion in Catalonia; by the temporary
insurrection which rendered Masaniello, a simple fisherman, master
of Naples; and by the revolution which placed the family of Braganza
on the throne of Portugal. The event of this direct conflict was the
degradation of the Austrian house in both its branches, and the partial
accomplishment of those extensive designs which France had long meditated
against the remnant of the Burgundian inheritance, and even against Spain
itself. The Peace of Westphalia, in 1648, opened passages into Germany
and Italy, reduced the empire to an aristocracy, and destroyed the union
of the Germanic body, by the establishment of a religious and political
schism.
But even after the emperor Ferdinand III had been forced to withdraw from
the contest, and to submit to the reduction of his power and influence,
Philip IV was induced to continue the war, from the consciousness of past
greatness, the hope of drawing advantage from the civil discords which
arose in France during the minority of Louis XIV, and above all from
an unwillingness to give his eldest daughter in marriage to the French
monarch, which was exacted as the price of peace. During this interval,
he not only resolved to affiance his daughter to the archduke Leopold;
but having become a widower, he cemented his connection with the German
branch by espousing Maria Anna, daughter of Frederick III. At length, his
increasing embarrassments; the loss of Jamaica and Dunkirk, wrested from
him by the successful hostility of Cromwell; the birth of a son, Philip
Prospero; and another pregnancy of his queen, induced him to accept the
proposals of France. Accordingly, preliminaries were signed at Paris,
November 7th, 1659, and a treaty of peace was arranged by the two prime
ministers of France, Cardinal Mazarin and Don Luis de Haro, in the Isle
of Pheasants, a small islet in the river Bidassoa, which divides the two
kingdoms.
[Illustration: COSTUME OF A YOUNG SPANISH WOMAN, EARLY SEVENTEENTH
CENTURY]
[Sidenote: [1659-1664 A.D.]]
This celebrated act, which has been termed the Treaty of the Pyrenees,
sowed the germ of future wars, and produced to France no less important
advantages on the side of the peninsula and Flanders, than the Peace of
Westphalia had produced to Austria on that of the empire. To France,
Spain ceded Roussillon with part of Conflans and Cerdagne, of Flanders
and Hainault, and all Artois, except the towns and districts of St. Omer
and Aire. The pretensions of France to Navarre were reserved; Dunkirk
and Jamaica were yielded to England: and the duke of Lorraine, the last
remaining ally of Spain, was reduced to dependence, by dismantling the
fortifications of Nancy, and by the compulsory cession of Moyenvic and
Bar. Finally, the king of Spain consented to give in marriage his
eldest daughter, Maria Theresa, to Louis XIV; but under the express
condition that she should, for herself and issue, renounce all right to
her paternal inheritance. In return, the king of France restored all
his conquests in the Netherlands, Italy, and Catalonia, and agreed not
to assist the Portuguese. Accordingly, the signature of the treaty was
followed by the celebration of the marriage, June 2nd, 1660, before which
the infanta renounced for herself and her posterity all right and title
to every part of the Spanish dominions in the strongest terms which
ingenuity could devise. Her renunciation was afterwards ratified with
equal solemnity by Louis XIV, for himself and his heirs, and confirmed
by the cortes then assembled at Madrid. The French court, however, made
a mockery of such engagements; and the well-known observation of Mazarin
to the plenipotentiaries employed in negotiating the treaty shows at once
the most shameless perfidy and the ultimate object of this connection:
“Let the match be concluded, and no renunciation can prevent the king
from pretending to the succession of Spain.”
As little did the French monarch respect his engagements not to interfere
in the affairs of Portugal, the hope of which had been one of the
principal inducements with Philip to conclude this disadvantageous
treaty. On the contrary, the most glaring prevarication was employed to
justify the active support afforded to the Portuguese: their resistance
was successfully employed to exhaust the remaining strength of the
Spanish monarchy, and to prepare the way for that system of aggression
and usurpation which was shortly to be exhibited, to the terror and
indignation of Europe.[h]
[Illustration: THE BATTLE OF VILLAVICIOSA]
[Sidenote: [1659-1664 A.D.]]
Commensurate with the origin of the Catalan insurrection was that of
Portugal. As this is not the proper place to enter into an examination
of the causes which produced, or the circumstances which attended that
natural burst of freedom, we defer both to the history of Portugal. Here
it is sufficient to observe that the discontented Portuguese, despising
the royal puppet at Madrid, and burning with an intolerable thirst for
the restoration of their independence, proclaimed the duke of Braganza
under the name of João IV; and that in several campaigns they nobly
vindicated the step. Assisted by their allies the English, Dutch, and
French, they continued the war with indomitable valour, and with general
success until 1664, when, in the battle of Villaviciosa, they inflicted
so severe a blow on the arms of Philip that he precipitately abandoned
hostilities. This was one of the causes which led to the disgrace
of Olivares. Nothing can better show the uncontrolled power of this
minister, and the criminal negligence of every public duty by the king,
than the fact that the latter remained long ignorant of the momentous
events in Portugal. At length, fearing to conceal them any longer, the
count one day observed, with an air of studied carelessness, “The duke of
Braganza has run stark mad; he has proclaimed himself king of Portugal!
This folly will bring your majesty twelve millions in confiscations!”
The only reply was, “We must put an end to the mischief”; but the
remonstrances of his queen, and the rebellion of the minister’s nephew,
the duke of Medina Sidonia, for whom the minister wrung a reluctant
pardon, determined Philip to exile Olivares from the court. This was
actually done; but the kingdom experienced no benefit by a change of
favourites.[c] “The unmeasured blame usually lavished upon Olivares,”
says Hume,[j] “appears hardly just, notwithstanding the disastrous
results of his rule. His great sin was that he tried to insist upon all
Spaniards making equal sacrifices to pay for the barren pride which all
Spaniards shared.”
DEATH OF PHILIP IV (1665 A.D.)
The character of Philip, who died in 1665, needs no description.
Though from a few early successes he was called “the great” and “the
planet king,” his reign, next to that of Roderic the Goth, was the
most disastrous in the annals of Spain. Omitting the distress which it
brought on the people, and the horrors of the Catalan insurrection,
the loss of Roussillon, Conflans, a part of Cerdagne, Jamaica, much of
the Low Countries, and above all Portugal, and his recognition of the
independence of the Seven United Provinces, are melancholy monuments
of his imbecility. A still worse effect was produced by the frequent
reverses of his arms in Italy and the Low Countries,[94] reverses which
encouraged the smallest states to set his power at defiance; thus,
both in the East Indies, and on the coast of America, his settlements
were plundered or seized by Holland. In private life, his conduct was
as little entitled to respect: by his mistresses he had six or seven
children,[95] of whom the most famous was Don John, surnamed of Austria,
believed to be the son of an actress of Madrid, and born in 1629.
On this son the choicest favours of the crown were conferred; he was
made prior of St. John, and was several times at the head of the Spanish
armies. In Italy, the Netherlands, Catalonia, and Portugal, he showed
that he was not unworthy to bear the name of his great predecessor, the
son of the emperor Charles; in the last-named country his success would
have been more decided, had not the queen, who hated his popularity and
envied his fame, diverted the supplies which were intended for him, and
left him no other alternative than that of retiring from the service.
Hence the foundation of the dissensions which, as we shall perceive in
the ensuing reign, distracted the state. Of Philip’s numerous offspring
by his two queens, Isabella, daughter of Henry IV of France, and Maria
Anna, daughter of the emperor Ferdinand III, three only survived him.
Maria Theresa queen of France, Margaret queen of Hungary, and his
successor Don Charles.
KING CHARLES II AND THE FRENCH WAR
[Sidenote: [1665-1669 A.D.]]
If the affairs of this kingdom had been so unfortunate during the reigns
of the two Philips, they were not likely to improve under a child who,
at his accession, had not attained his fourth year, especially as
Don John, the favourite of the nation, was at open hostility with the
queen-regent and her confessor the father Nithard [or Nitard], a German
Jesuit. This churchman is represented as haughty to the nobles, supple to
the queen, and in his general conduct corrupt; but as the representation
comes from men always jealous of foreigners, it must be received with
caution. An unbiassed mind will easily perceive that his chief fault was
the unbounded power he exercised through the queen. The disasters which
befell her administration added to the popular discontent.
Though the perfidious Louis XIV had disclaimed, both for himself and his
successors, all title to the Spanish possessions, one of his first acts,
after his marriage, was to assert, in right of his queen, a monstrous
pretension to the Low Countries. In an obscure district of a remote
province there was an ancient custom, called devolution, now virtually
abrogated by time, that even a daughter of the first wife should inherit
in preference to a son by the second: hence, as Maria Theresa, the
consort of Louis, was sprung from the first, and Don Charles from the
second marriage of Philip, the French monarch poured his legions over the
frontier, and with great rapidity reduced most of the fortresses from
the Channel to the Schelde. At his instigation the Portuguese made an
irruption into Estremadura. The union of Sweden, Holland, and England,
to oppose the ambition of the Frenchman, saved the whole Netherlands
from subjugation; but, by the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, May 2nd, 1668,
he retained the most valuable of his conquests; and by that very union,
which thus saved a portion of her northern possessions, Spain was
compelled to acknowledge the independence of Portugal.
Of these disastrous circumstances advantage was taken by Don John of
Austria, who had been exiled from the court, to load both the queen
and her confessor, now a counsellor of state, with increased obloquy.
During the flagitious career of the French, the voice of the Spaniards
proclaimed him as the only man fit to support the sinking fortunes of
the monarchy: to remove him from their attachment, and from his own
intrigues, he had been nominated governor of the Low Countries. He
refused the dignity. Being retired to Consuegra, a conspiracy was formed
or pretended against the life of Nithard, and revealed by one of the
accomplices, who asserted that its hidden spring was John.
Whether this conspiracy was, as most men suspected, a stratagem of the
queen and her party, or a really meditated deed of blood, it enabled
the regent to act with more vigour: she despatched a strong party of
cavalry to arrest John, and consign him to the Alcazar of Toledo. He
fled into Aragon; and from his refuge assumed a higher tone, insisting
that satisfaction should be made him for a suspicion so injurious to his
honour, and that the Jesuit should be banished from the kingdom. With
seven hundred resolute followers, he advanced towards Madrid. He was
met by the papal nuncio, who had been charged with the honourable duty
of mediation. To the request that he would remain four days at Torrejon
until his demands were satisfied, he replied that Nithard must leave
the kingdom without delay. The insolence of this mandate--for such it
was--exasperated the queen; but she was constrained to comply with it,
and the Jesuit was dismissed.
Father Nithard was certainly a disinterested, he appears to have been
a well-meaning man. He would accept no money (a moderate sum excepted,
necessary to defray the expense of his journey to Rome), asserting with
an honest pride that he entered Spain a poor priest, and a poor priest
would leave it: however, he was subsequently raised to the dignity of
cardinal.
[Sidenote: [1669-1677 A.D.]]
Don John renewed his intrigues, artfully uniting the cause of the people
with his own, and at length compelling the court to invest him with
the government of Aragon, Catalonia, Valencia, the Balearic Isles, and
Sardinia. The following years he passed in sovereign state at Saragossa,
silently watching the course of events which, as he had anticipated, were
of the same adverse character to the nation. France, true to her career
of spoliation in all ages, in 1672 invaded Holland, now the ally of
Spain, with one hundred thousand men: to such a host resistance was vain,
and most of the country was seized by the invaders.
Spain, like England, Germany, and other states who confederated to arrest
the daring progress of Louis, flew to the assistance of her prostrate
ally, and immediately afterwards declared war against France. As usual,
the advantage turned in favour of the stronger party. In Burgundy,
Franche-Comté, which Spain had inherited in right of the ancient dukes of
that province, was conquered, and some destructive inroads were made into
Catalonia; the few fortresses remaining to the Spanish monarch in the Low
Countries were threatened, one or two actually reduced; and Messina in
Sicily was instigated by the enemy to rebel. In three years the rebellion
subsided of itself, the inhabitants of Messina being glad to escape from
the yoke of Louis by returning to their obedience. In 1675 Don John was
ordered to pass over to that island; but as the royal majority was at
hand when the regent’s term of authority would expire, he hoped that he
should be called to the ministry; a result for which his friends were
actively disposing the king. But through the arts of the queen, Maria
Anna, he was suddenly ordered to leave Madrid. There can be no doubt,
however, that his own presumption hastened this disgrace, for he had
insisted on being acknowledged as infante of Castile, and consequently as
collateral heir to the monarchy. The queen triumphed the more as her son
was as imbecile in mind as he was sickly in body, and as with her alone
would continue the affairs of administration.
A new, and, if scandal is to be believed, a less innocent favourite
than Father Nithard, was found in Ferdinand de Valenzuela, who had
been page of the duke del Infantado, and who to specious manners and
some knowledge added an agreeable person. But the queen’s triumph was
transient: the creatures of Don John became more numerous and clamorous.
The leading grandees, who detested the new favourite for his vanity, and
still more for his meanness of birth, joined in the cry. The torrent
became too strong to be stemmed even by her. She resolved to derive
merit from necessity; for knowing that Don John was preparing to leave
Saragossa for Madrid, she not only suffered her son to command his
immediate presence, but she herself wrote in the same strain. At his
approach Charles II retired to another palace, ordering his mother not
to leave the one she inhabited; and despatched the archbishop of Toledo
to Hita to welcome his brother. The power of John was now unbounded,
while Maria Anna, notwithstanding her efforts to recover the royal
favour, was circumscribed to her own household. John was affectionately
received by the king, and was declared prime minister. The first decree
which he signed was for the arrest of Valenzuela, now degraded from the
class of nobles to which the favour of Maria Anna had unworthily raised
him. He was conveyed to the castle of Consuegra, forced to disgorge his
ill-gotten wealth, and banished to the Philippine Islands. He died in
Mexico.
[Sidenote: [1677-1679 A.D.]]
The administration of Don John was no less deplorable than that of the
regent whom he had so criminally supplanted. Occupied in the cares of
vengeance, or in providing for his creatures, he feebly opposed the
victorious progress of Louis. Valenciennes, Cambray, St. Omer, and other
places were speedily reduced: Ypres and Ghent were assailed with equal
success; and Puycerda, on the Catalan frontier, yielded about the same
time to another French army. Most of these places, however, were restored
at the Peace of Nimeguen, September, 1678, of which the most unpopular
condition was that Charles should receive the hand of the princess Marie
Louise, niece of the French king. That nation had always been regarded
with jealousy, it was now hated by the Spaniards. John did not live
to witness the solemnisation of the nuptials. The ill success of his
government, his haughty behaviour towards the grandees, his persecution
of such as belonged rather to their country than to his party, and his
tyranny even over the king, rendered him not merely unpopular, but
odious. In this state mental anxiety put an end to his life (September
17th, 1679) at the moment his enemies were preparing to hasten his
downfall.[96] The queen-dowager returned to court, not indeed to resume
her ancient influence, but to assist in the multiplication of intrigues,
and, consequently, the perplexities of her imbecile son.[c]
THE FATE OF THE YOUNG QUEEN
[Sidenote: [1679-1691 A.D.]]
Marriage had come to be one of the political resources of Louis XIV.
Another matrimonial alliance, still more important, had been concluded
a few months previously. It has been said that Don John of Austria,
the uncle and minister of the king of Spain, hoped to find in France
a support against his rival, the king’s mother, who was upheld by the
court at Vienna. Don John had caused the negotiations undertaken by
the queen-mother for uniting the Catholic king with a daughter of the
emperor to be broken off, and had solicited for Charles II the hand of
Marie Louise of Orléans, a niece of Louis XIV and daughter of the duke of
Orléans by his first wife Henrietta of England. It can be imagined with
what eagerness this proposition was received, since it was supposed that
it would establish the diplomatic preponderance of France at Madrid.
[Illustration: A SPANIARD OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY]
The contract was signed on the 30th of August, 1679, to the great joy of
Louis XIV, but to the still greater sorrow of the bride. It was only with
despair that the poor young girl left the paradise of Versailles to bury
herself in the tomb of the Escorial, at the side of that strange husband
who was only the shadow of a king, only the shadow of a man. For a whole
month she saddened the court and wounded the national susceptibilities
of the Spanish ambassadors by the violence of her grief. She seemed to
have a presentiment of her sad fate. She had not yet started when the
protector she was to meet on the other side of the mountains expired
and her natural enemy the queen-mother seized again from the dying
hands of Don John the power she had lost. Marie Louise found on foreign
soil only long hours of weariness, and implacable persecutions which
were terminated by a prolonged agony and perhaps by a crime. She was
one of the most pathetic victims of the cruel policy of dynasties. The
sacrifice, however, was useless; the young queen acquired no influence at
Madrid and, the anti-French policy having gotten the upper hand together
with the queen-mother, by the intervention of the prince of Orange, a
_rapprochement_ was brought about between Spain and England, the effects
of which Louis XIV fought with greater success at Windsor than at the
Escorial.[l]
Dunlop[k] gives many details of the journey of the young bride to
her imbecile husband. To the natural homesickness so peculiarly
characteristic of the French, she added a complete ignorance of the
Spanish language and a nature rebellious to the unusual formality of
Spanish court etiquette. The royal bridegroom into whose arms she was
driven was, as a result of the Austrian marriages, not only weak-minded
but also repulsive physically; his chin was so huge that he could not
masticate and his tongue so large that his speech could hardly be
understood. He was treated as a baby till he was ten and was almost
illiterate; his amusements were those of a lascivious boy and he died in
the decay of old age when he was not yet forty.
An incident of Charles II’s reign was the renewal of the inquisitional
fury, and one of the _fêtes_ of the young queen was the privilege of
watching fifty wretches led out to torture and execution; one beautiful
Jewess appealed to the queen who was helpless to save her.
The queen was very charitable and yet was left on a stinted allowance
irregularly paid. Her reputation suffered slander--as what queen’s has
not?--and Hume[j] calls her a pagan; but Dunlop says that her character
was untainted. She found congenial friends naturally among the people
of her own country, but these were eventually forbidden her presence.
Sunny as her nature was, it is small wonder that she pined and did not
make headway against the thick plots against her. She died in February,
1689--of cholera morbus it was claimed, though poison was of course
alleged.
Dunlop[k] well says, “Of all political queens, the fate of Louise
d’Orléans is perhaps the most to be pitied.” Her life had been vain;
she had not satisfied her uncle Louis XIV by fastening French influence
on the court; she had not satisfied Spanish hopes by bearing an heir to
the monstrosity she had been forced to wed; and she had not even been
happy.[a]
LAST YEARS OF CHARLES II
[Sidenote: [1691-1700 A.D.]]
Omitting the detail of obscure wars--obscure at least to the
Spaniards--which almost uniformly turned to their prejudice, on the death
of Marie Louise, in 1689, the French monarch again poured the storm of
war over the frontier of Catalonia. What most heightened his resentment
was the immediate marriage of the widowed Charles with a princess of the
house of Austria; to that house he had always been a mortal enemy, and
he feared lest the king, who was hitherto childless, should at length
have an heir. For some time, indeed, the efforts of the invaders, owing
to their insignificant numbers, were often repulsed, or neutralised
by subsequent reverses; but, in 1691, Urgel was taken by the duke of
Noailles; Barcelona and Alicante were severely bombarded by sea. Two
years afterwards Palemos and Rosas capitulated; the following year the
Spaniards were defeated in a considerable battle; the victors took
Gerona; Hostalric, and other places, followed the example, and Barcelona
itself was threatened. Destitute of money and of troops, the efforts of
the cabinet to raise both were but partially successful, and the time
which should have been spent in vigorous hostilities was thus wasted in
almost useless preparation. After a short suspension of hostilities,
Barcelona fell into the power of Vendôme.
Spain trembled to her most distant extremities; and she could scarcely
believe in the reality of her good fortune when, at the Peace of Ryswick,
in 1697, Louis restored all his conquests. She was too much confounded
by this display of magnanimity to divine the cause; yet that cause was
not insufficient. From his niece, Marie Louise, the French monarch had
learned to suspect the impotency of Charles; the sterility of the recent
marriage confirmed the suspicion; and as he aspired in consequence to
place a prince of his family on the throne of Castile, he did not wish to
diminish the value of the inheritance by its dismemberment.
In 1698 the health of Charles, which had always been indifferent, began
so visibly to decline that all hope of issue was abandoned. On his
demise three chief claimants could aspire to his throne: first, the
dauphin of France, as the eldest son of Maria Theresa, eldest daughter
of Philip IV; secondly, the emperor Leopold, who not only descended from
Ferdinand, brother of Charles V, but whose mother was the daughter of
Philip III; thirdly, the electoral prince of Bavaria, whose mother was
the only daughter of the infanta Margarita, a young daughter of Philip
IV. Of these claims, that of the dauphin was evidently the strongest,
since his mother was the eldest sister of Charles. It is true that she
had renounced for her issue all claim to the crown of Spain; but this
renunciation had been demanded by the Spaniards, from a fear lest the
two crowns should fall on the same brow. To such a union Europe would
never have consented; and the objection was almost equally strong to
the union of Spain with Germany. Hence the hostility to the pretensions
both of the dauphin, as heir of the French monarchy, and of the emperor
Leopold. Hence, too, the celebrated, and infamous as celebrated, treaty
of partition, which, in October, 1698, was signed at the Hague by the
plenipotentiaries of England, Holland, and France. By it Naples and
Sicily, with Guipuzcoa, San Sebastian, and Fuenterrabia were ceded to
the dauphin; Spain and the Indies to the Prince of Bavaria; while, for
the third party, Charles, second son of Leopold, and the representative
of his rights, Milan only was reserved. The death of the Bavarian prince
destroyed this beautiful scheme of spoliation; but its authors did
not long delay in framing another, which gave Spain, the Indies, and
Netherlands to Charles, and which amplified the original portion of the
dauphin.
But Louis XIV had no intention to renounce the splendid inheritance; if
he could not procure it for the dauphin, or, which would ultimately be
the same, for the eldest son of the dauphin, there was a second son,
Philip, duke of Anjou, who would be less the object of jealousy to the
European powers. With the same view, Leopold was willing that his own
rights, and those of his eldest son, should devolve on the archduke
Charles the youngest. Both princes sent their emissaries to the court
of Charles II, to besiege his sick-bed, and to procure a testamentary
declaration in favour of their respective pretensions. The intrigues
which continued for so many months to distract the court and kingdom, to
embitter rival animosity, and to disturb the last hours of the king, are
too endless to be detailed.
The duke of Anjou’s ablest support was Cardinal Portocarrero, archbishop
of Toledo. The cardinal terrified Charles’ conscience by a representation
of the civil wars which must inevitably follow the uncertainty of
succession, and, above all, by frightening him with the responsibility
of the consequent bloodshed. On a mind so religious as the king’s, these
representations made a deep effect; he observed that, however near the
ties of blood, his salvation was still nearer; and after a long, a bitter
struggle, he signed the testament which called the duke d’Anjou to the
undivided sovereignty of the Spanish dominions. As he subscribed the
momentous instrument, his heart still clung to his family, the tears ran
from his eyes, while, with a faltering voice, he sorrowfully exclaimed,
“God is the disposer of kingdoms!”
Before the signature of this important act, the health and strength
of the king had visibly declined; in fact he exhibited in himself
a mere shadow of existence. His deplorable, and as it appeared,
extraordinary state, one alike of pain, of mental vacuity, and even of
half consciousness, gave rise to a report that he was bewitched. He
prepared for his end; appointed a council of regency, headed by Cardinal
Portocarrero, until the duke of d’Anjou should arrive in Spain; and on
the morning of November 1st, 1700, bade adieu to his worldly sorrows,
after one of the most disastrous reigns on record.[c]
THE DISTRESSES OF SPAIN
[Sidenote: [1665-1700 A.D.]]
Thus, at length, terminated the long but inglorious sway of Charles
II, in the thirty-ninth year of his age, and the thirty-sixth of his
unfortunate reign. His character is written in the events of his
clouded life. He was mild and conscientious; suspicious and distrustful
from diffidence in his own powers and talents; timid, inconstant, and
irresolute, from the influence of hypochondriac affections; chaste from
temperament; ignorant from total want of instruction; superstitious from
habit and education; he was utterly destitute of discernment, energy,
or skill; he was but a ghost even of his grandsire Philip III, and in
his premature decay formed no unfit emblem of the declining kingdom over
which he reigned.
Charles, indeed, was not wholly responsible for the state of degradation
to which Spain was reduced when he closed his fatal career. The
administrations of Lerma and Olivares had prepared the way for a long
train of losses, humiliations, and disasters; but the wavering and
fluctuating counsels of Charles completed the ruin of his country.
Spain, which contained twenty millions of inhabitants in the reign of
Ferdinand and Isabella, had only eight millions at the close of the reign
of Charles II. Moncada, an author of the beginning of the seventeenth
century, estimated the population of its capital at 400,000; and Uztariz,
who wrote immediately after the accession of the Bourbons, calculated
it at only 180,000, so that it may be rated that it had diminished by
one-half during the reigns of Philip IV and his son. Except, indeed, from
courtesy and custom, and the extreme interest excited by the question of
the succession, Spain, at the end of the reign of Charles, would scarcely
have been reckoned among the powers of Europe.
Her finances were in a state of most frightful disorder. The revenues
of the crown were absorbed by those agents or farmers, on whom the
urgent necessities of government reduced it to depend for supplies;
and, at the same time, the people, both in the capital and provinces,
were loaded with every species of extortion and monopoly. The ample
treasures of the New World were still worse administered; the viceroys,
after defrauding the crown and oppressing the subject, were suffered to
return from their governments and to enjoy, with impunity, the produce
of peculation. The harbours of Spain contained but ten or twelve rotten
frigates; the arsenals for the navy were neglected, and even the art of
shipbuilding had fallen into oblivion. Her army amounted to not more than
twenty thousand men, without discipline, pay, or clothing. Her forts and
citadels had crumbled into ruins. Even the breaches made into the walls
of Barcelona during the Catalan insurrection continued open, and at the
other chief fortresses there were neither guns mounted nor garrisons
maintained. Such was the want of vigour in the laws, and remissness in
the officers of justice, that reins had been given to every species of
licentiousness. The slightest rise in the price of provisions excited
tumult and alarm. Madrid had become the rendezvous of robbers and the
asylum of assassins, who haunted even the palaces of the grandees or the
churches, unmolested and unpunished. Its squares and streets were filled
with discarded domestics and famishing artisans, without occupation or
the means of subsistence. Those establishments destined to maintain the
respect due to royalty had sunk into empty form, and were insufficient
to protect the king from mortifying insults, both to his authority and
person. The responsible ministry were without intelligence or skill in
the science of government: the real influence was in the officers of
the household--the king’s confessor, the prelates, and the inquisitors
of the realm. The private and bitter jealousies of the grandees, the
enmity of the provinces towards each other, and the rigid adherence to
ancient forms and usages, however inapplicable to modern circumstances,
all conspired to prevent a cordial co-operation in any useful or national
object, and completed, in the last year of the seventeenth century and at
the end of the Austrian dynasty, the picture of Spain.
Yet the sway, no doubt, of the imbecile Charles may have appeared more
feeble from the contrast it presented to the energy and skill of the
other governments of Europe, which, at the close of this century, were
ruled by the ablest monarchs who had ever appeared, at one era, since
the first rise of its states on the wreck of the Western Empire. The
energies both of Holland and England were wielded by William III; Louis
XIV reigned in France, the prudent Pedro in Portugal, John Sobieski
in Poland, Charles XII in Sweden, and in Muscovy Peter the Great--the
immortal czar.[k]
FOOTNOTES
[93] [Catalan writers, witnesses of these scenes, describe with
enthusiasm the patriotic ardour shown by all classes in the town, the
courage, daring, and diligence displayed even by women and children
in bringing provisions, ropes, ammunition, medicine, and all kinds
of assistance to the defenders on the walls, those who had nothing
themselves going to the houses and through the streets asking for help.
Even the nuns in their convents sent biscuits and preserves, while others
prayed to God for the triumph of the Catalan cause; some women dressed as
soldiers and went about with swords and daggers.[b]]
[94] The troubles in Naples included the famous insurrection led by the
fisherman Masaniello.
[95] According to the Venetian ambassador Zanetornato[i] he had
thirty-two illegitimate children.
[96] [Hume[j] says he died of fever and ague, though poison was of course
hinted and Maria Anna blamed.]
[Illustration]