[Sidenote: [1700-1788 A.D.]]
_Du sein de Paris, Madrid reçoit un Roi._
--VOLTAIRE, _La Henriade_.
On the 1st of November, 1700, died Charles II, the last male of the
Austrian dynasty, which had governed Spain from the death of Ferdinand
and Isabella.
[Sidenote: [1700-1701 A.D.]]
The king had scarcely expired, before the ministers and officers of state
assembled, according to ancient custom, to examine and publish the royal
testament. As this was a new era in the history of Spain, and as general
anxiety prevailed to know the new sovereign, the palace was crowded
with people of all ranks, and the antechamber filled with the foreign
ministers and principal courtiers, all eager to receive the earliest
intelligence. At length, the folding doors being thrown open, the duke of
Abrantes appeared, and a general silence ensued to hear the nomination.
Near the door stood the two ministers of France and Austria, Blécourt
and Harrach. Blécourt advanced with the confidence of a man who expected
a declaration in his favour; but the Spaniard, casting on him a look of
indifference, advanced to Harrach and embraced him with a fervour which
announced the most joyful tidings. Maliciously prolonging his compliment,
and repeating his embrace, he said, “Sir, it is with the greatest
pleasure--sir, it is with the greatest satisfaction--for my whole
life, I take my leave of the most illustrious house of Austria.” The
ambassador, who during this strange address had already begun to express
his own satisfaction and promise the future favour of his sovereign, was
thunderstruck with the malicious, unexpected insult; and it required all
his firmness to remain and hear the contents of the will, which overthrew
the hopes and baffled the plans of his imperial master.
Philip arrived at Madrid on the 18th of February. On the 21st of April
he made a triumphal entry, with a magnificence calculated to flatter a
chivalrous and high-spirited nation, and to display all the splendour of
a crown esteemed by its subjects the most powerful in the whole Christian
world. The eyes of Spain and of Europe were turned to the young king, who
was to form the commencement of a new dynasty, and whose accession was a
new era in the political history of modern times. Philip had just entered
the seventeenth year of his age. Bred up in a bigoted and monotonous
court, where everything bore the stamp of submission and bent before the
nod of the great monarch, Philip had learned to regard the person and
will of his grandfather, Louis XIV, with a respect almost bordering on
adoration. He had imbibed also a deep and awful sense of religion, and in
his whole conduct and deportment displayed a moral purity and scrupulous
decorum which are rarely found in courts.
FRENCH INFLUENCE DOMINATES
As the primary object of Louis XIV was a desire to exclude a hostile
family, and employ the power, resources, and territories of Spain for
the aggrandisement of his own kingdom, the means and persons who were to
direct the movements and fashion the character of Philip were all adapted
to the attainments of this end. The first instructions given by the
monarch to his pupil and grandson, amidst much trifling and commonplace
advice, contain the outlines of that system which time and events were to
mature and complete.
Philip literally obeyed these instructions. He placed his full confidence
in Portocarrero; he suffered him to assume the power of forming the
new ministry, of gratifying his personal or political antipathies, and
filling at his pleasure all offices and appointments of state; and
from the commencement of his reign Philip was the king of a party and
the vassal of France, to whom he principally owed his crown. As Louis
foresaw, therefore, that the possession of the Spanish crown must
ultimately depend on the decision of arms, he had spared no pains to
commence a contest with advantage, even before the death of Charles;
and he hoped by a prompt and vigorous effort to bring it to a speedy
and successful issue. He had gradually collected a powerful army on the
Spanish frontier. By threats and promises he prevailed on the king of
Portugal to acknowledge the new sovereign, and conclude an alliance with
the house of Bourbon. At the same time he secured an entrance into Italy
by negotiating a marriage between Philip and a princess of Savoy. He
likewise obtained permission to introduce a French garrison into Mantua,
the key of the principal military passage from Germany into Italy.
The unexpected tenor of the Spanish testament, and the foresight and
promptitude of Louis, struck a temporary panic into the principal courts
of Europe. In Holland the dread of impending ruin excited a unanimous
sentiment of indignation against France. Preparations were made for
hostilities; but Louis surprised all the frontier fortresses, and
captured fifteen thousand Dutch troops by whom they were garrisoned.
The fear of an immediate invasion, extorted from the Dutch government
an acknowledgment of Philip as sovereign of the whole Spanish monarchy.
The parliament and nation of England constrained William to follow this
example. The court of Vienna made vigorous preparations to bring the
dispute to the test of arms.
On the other hand, the sanguine expectations which the Spanish nation
had formed of the wisdom, perfection, and energy of the new government,
were too extravagant to be realised; and it was the just remark of the
shrewd Louville, that even should an angel descend from heaven to take
the reins, the public hopes must be disappointed in the existing state of
Spain, gangrened as it was from one extremity to the other. The crown was
not only robbed of its splendour, but reduced to inconceivable penury.
The same difficulties occurred in raising ten pistoles as ten thousand;
the salaries of the royal household were unpaid; the pay of the troops
was in constant arrears, and the royal guards were often reduced to share
with mendicants the charitable donations of convents and hospitals.
The whole army did not exceed twenty thousand men. Thus, totally
ruined within and unprovided for war without, it was evident that the
preservation of the crown must solely depend on the exertions of Louis
XIV.
The change of sovereigns led to other mischiefs, which all the vigilance
of the French court was in vain exerted to prevent. On the accession
of a French prince, Madrid was crowded with swarms of Frenchmen, of
the most despicable and abandoned characters, who were eager to gather
the fruits of the promised land. Whole tribes of harlots, swindlers,
gamesters, pickpockets, and projectors, allured thither by the lucre of
gain, vilified by their infamous conduct their native country, and gave
new force to that odium which had hitherto operated as an insuperable
barrier between the two nations. The seeds of rebellion were diffused,
and the public grievances aggravated by the fanaticism of the clergy.
The priests abused the sacred office of confession to excite discontent;
the French were stigmatised as heretics; those who were connected with
them were accused of irreligion, and even the authority of the pope was
falsely employed to give new strength to the pretensions of an Austrian
prince. All these causes contributed to excite discontent in a nation
wedded to ancient establishments and proud of former magnificence. But
the general odium was still further aggravated by the appointment of a
Frenchman to the management of the finances. As Portocarrero was himself
unequal to the task of remodelling the revenue, Louis, at the instigation
of the council, sent Jean Orry [or Orri], a man of obscure birth who in
a subordinate branch of the finances in France had acquired a superior
knowledge of political economy.
The new minister proposed extensive reforms both in the nature and
perception of the revenue, and endeavoured to model it on that of France,
with a precipitancy and want of address or discretion ill calculated to
conciliate the unbending firmness of the Spanish character. This abrupt
attempt to lay the axe at once to the root of all abuses gave great
offence to every class of the nation; and the clamour was heightened by
his plans for resuming the fiefs extorted by the nobles from the crown
in times of trouble and confusion. The nobles imperiously demanded the
convocation of the cortes of Castile, the only legitimate assembly which
could authorise the innovations, and as an additional argument they urged
the necessity of exchanging the customary pledges between the monarch and
the people, by the confirmation of the material privilege on one side,
and the oath of allegiance on the other. A proposal to convene a body
which had essentially curbed the royal authority, embarrassed the king
and his personal friends and adherents. It was referred to Louis, but
he prudently declined interfering, and Philip, after long deliberation,
endeavoured to evade it by declaring that the journey which he was about
to make to Catalonia to receive his bride rendered it necessary to defer
the convocation till after his return.[c]
THE NEW QUEEN AND THE PRINCESS ORSINI
[Sidenote: [1701-1702 A.D.]]
The choice of a wife had been an object of anxiety: it fell on Maria
Louisa, a princess of Savoy, a lady of mild habits, and no more than
fourteen years of age--one who seemed to be excellently fitted for
passive obedience. To prevent her correspondence with the court of
Turin, she was deprived of all her native domestics; nor was any one of
her suite suffered to attend her, except the princess d’Orsini [or des
Ursins, or Orsinos], as her _camarera mayor_, or superintendent of her
household. As this lady would probably exercise much influence over the
queen, and through the queen over the king and government, she had been
selected with great caution. By birth she was French, of the illustrious
family of La Trémouille. Her first husband was the prince of Chalais,
with whom she had passed some years in Spain: her second, whom she had
married in Italy, was Flavio d’Orsini, duke of Bracciano, and grandee of
Spain. Her intimacy with Madame de Maintenon proved of singular service
to her ambition, after her husband’s death.
A French woman herself, indebted to France for her present fortune and
her hopes of greater; acquainted with the Spanish language, society, and
manners; possessing an extensive knowledge of the world, a fascinating
manner, an intellect at once penetrating and supple; eloquent in her
speech, always cheerful and even tempered, with art sufficient to hide
her own views and to profit by those of others, she appeared admirably
adapted for the purpose of Louis. Hence, after receiving minute
instructions for her conduct, she was placed with the young queen,
to whom she soon became necessary, and over whom her influence was
unbounded.[97]
While Philip remained with his new queen at Barcelona, he opened the
cortes of Catalonia. His reason for convoking that assembly was the
hope of a considerable donative, perhaps of a supply sufficient to meet
the war which his rival the archduke Charles was preparing to wage
on his Italian possessions. Before any money was voted, demands were
very properly made, and, with some modifications, granted; but the
donative was so trifling in amount as to be scarcely worth acceptance.
By the states homage was sworn to the king--no doubt with sincerity,
notwithstanding the bitter injustice of the marquis of San Felipe,[b] who
broadly asserts that they had no intention of observing the oath, and
who calls the Catalans naturally perfidious. From Catalonia Philip was
expected to return to Madrid; but in the belief that the wavering loyalty
of the Neapolitans and Milanese--in the former a conspiracy had broken
out for Charles, but soon suppressed--would be confirmed by his presence,
he resolved to pass over into Italy. During his absence he left the queen
regent of the kingdom, directing her on her return to the capital to hold
the cortes of Aragon.
Philip could not command the cordial respect of the Neapolitans. The
pope refused to grant him the investiture of the kingdom. From Naples he
hastened to Milan, to oppose the imperial general, Prince Eugene, who,
notwithstanding the opposition, had established himself in Lombardy.
After some unimportant operations, he was present at the bloody but
indecisive battle of Luzzara, where he showed great bravery. Soon
afterwards he left the camp on his return to Spain, where he was now
summoned.
WAR OF THE SPANISH SUCCESSION
Though William of England had acknowledged Philip, he had done so with
duplicity: he knew that both his parliaments were at that time averse
to war, and he could only wait for some act of hostility on the part of
Louis, which, by incensing the English, should enable him to draw the
sword. The measures which Louis aimed at the English and Dutch commerce
soon furnished him with the opportunity he sought. The two governments
now entered into an alliance with Austria, which had hitherto been
fighting her own battles in Germany and Italy. The chief objects of this
alliance were to obtain satisfaction for the Austrian claims on Spain; to
rescue the Netherlands from France; to prevent the union of the French
and Spanish crowns; and to exclude subjects of the former from the
Spanish possessions in the West Indies. In revenge for this impolitic
conduct of William, Louis, with equal impolicy, acknowledged the son
of the exiled James Stuart as king of England. This insult roused the
Protestant party; supplies were voted for the war; and though the king
died in the midst of the preparations, Anne succeeded to the same policy.
[Illustration: A SPANISH CAPTAIN]
Here commences the celebrated War of the Succession, which for so many
years agitated all Europe, covered the Netherlands with blood, desolated
the fairest provinces of Spain, and ended in the loss of her Italian
possessions. The limits of the present chapter will allow us to do no
more than briefly advert to its more striking incidents. The reader
desirous of fuller information may refer to the histories of France,
England, and Austria.
[Sidenote: [1702-1704 A.D.]]
Omitting all mention of the interminable operations in the Low Countries,
Germany, and Italy, in 1702 an expedition consisting of thirty English
and twenty Dutch vessels of the line, exclusive of numerous transports,
and carrying eleven thousand men, was sent against Cadiz. It was headed
by the duke of Ormond, who was totally unqualified for the post; nor were
the subordinate generals much more happily chosen.
To the solicitations made by the allied generals, that the local
governors would change their sovereign, either insulting replies
were returned, or a contemptuous silence was observed. The reply of
Villadarias, who said that Spaniards never changed either their religion
or their king, was the sentiment of all except one. The disembarkation
being at length effected, with some loss, the governor of Rota admitted
the invaders, and for his treason was created a marquis, by the agent
of the archduke. But the inhabitants had little reason to congratulate
themselves; they were plundered, insulted, beaten, and even murdered by
the licentious soldiery. At the town of Santa Maria, the inhabitants
of which fled at the approach of the invaders, greater excesses were
committed.[98] Equally unsuccessful was the attempt of the English
ships to force their way into the harbour. Cowardice was now added to
murder and rapine; the invaders precipitately retreated to their ships;
six hundred of the rearguard were cut to pieces by half the number of
pursuers; more still were drowned in their precipitate efforts to regain
the ships--all who straggled behind were massacred by the incensed
peasantry. The armament returned, and in Vigo Bay it destroyed the
greater part of a Spanish and French fleet, rich by the productions of
the Indies.
The fate of the governor of Rota, who on the retreat of the English had
been hanged by order of Villadarias, did not deter a nobleman of the
highest rank, of great power, and still greater riches, from the same
treason. Cabrera, the admiral of Castile, who in the preceding reign
had dispensed the patronage of the crown, from disappointed ambition,
at seeing the cardinal Portocarrero in possession of a post to which he
considered himself entitled, opened a treasonable correspondence with the
court of Vienna. His intrigues, in a few short months, did more for the
allied cause than would have been effected by the English cabinet in as
many years: he drew the Portuguese king, Pedro II, into the confederacy,
and persuaded Leopold to allow the archduke to visit the peninsula. The
treaty which was signed at Lisbon in May, 1703, was as infamous to the
character of its partisans as any other transaction of this war.
On the return of Philip, he found the government embarrassed, and the
nation indignant, at the recent loss of his wealthy galleons in Vigo
Bay. He found, too, the divisions in his cabinet more bitter than even
at the period of his departure. To the princess Orsini was owing the
declining power of Cardinal Portocarrero, and the ascendency of the
count de Montellano, who showed more deference to the queen’s favourite.
D’Estrées, a man of considerable talent, of great family, and highly in
favour with Louis, disdained to win the princess: the same influence
procured his recall, his own nephew, the abbé D’Estrées, being made an
instrument of his disgrace. At the same time the Spanish cardinal retired
in disgust. The abbé succeeded to his uncle’s post; he, too, quarrelled
with the princess; and by conduct at once rash and double, brought on
himself the indignation of the king and queen. In his recall, however, he
had the gratification to perceive that his charges against the favourite
princess d’Orsini had their effect, and that she was ordered to leave the
Spanish court at the same time.
Indignant at the loss of her favourite, the queen exhibited her revenge
by thwarting the measures of the new French ambassador, the duke of
Grammont, and by opposing the execution of every order sent from Paris.
Louis soon found that, if he wished to retain his ascendency, her
resentment must be appeased. This could be effected only by the return
of the princess. That celebrated woman accordingly resumed her former
empire; and Grammont was replaced by a successor.
While this feeble cabinet was thus a prey to the basest passions, the
storm of war again lowered on the frontier. In pursuance of the treaty
with Portugal, twelve thousand English and Dutch troops, who were soon
joined by the archduke Charles in person, were landed in that country.
But the duke of Schomberg, the general of the English forces, was a man
of factitious reputation; he was far inferior in either activity or
ability to a son of the English James II, the duke of Berwick, whom Louis
placed at the head of the combined French and Spanish army.
With a force considerably superior to that of the enemy, divided into
three bodies, and accompanied by Philip in person, he advanced into
Portugal. First, Salvatierra was invested and reduced; other fortresses
shared the same fate.
Fagel, the Dutch general, was surprised in the wild recesses of the
Sierra Estrella; and though he himself effected his escape, his whole
division was captured. The marquis de las Minas, the only good officer in
the Portuguese service, took the field, defeated Ronquillo, one of the
Spanish generals, and in a few days rescued several of the fortresses
which had been reduced. Under the walls of Monscato a still more decisive
advantage was gained over Ronquillo. The skill of De las Minas was equal
to his valour; he baffled every attempt of Berwick to dislodge him, and
even forced that general to return across the frontier.
As for Schomberg, he did nothing during the whole campaign, says
Berwick,[e] but move from place to place with his army: he was
consequently removed, and succeeded by Lord Galway, a man more imbecile
than himself. Berwick could easily have triumphed over his stupid or
cowardly enemies; but as he was no favourite at court, obstacles were
thrown in his way, and towards the close of the campaign he was recalled.
[Sidenote: [1704-1705 A.D.]]
While these indecisive events were passing in Portugal, an expedition,
under the prince of Hesse-Darmstadt and Sir George Rooke, the English
admiral, proceeded to Barcelona in 1704. The prince had boasted that
no sooner should the standard of Charles be erected, than it would be
joined by thousands of the disaffected Catalans. But though sufficiently
inclined to throw off their allegiance to Philip, none joined the
English, who, after an ineffectual attempt on Barcelona, re-embarked,
and returned towards Portugal. On their passage, however, they took
Gibraltar; and Sir George had the satisfaction to inflict some loss on
the French fleet off the coast of Malaga. But the transactions of the
year were little honourable to the allies of Austria.
The following year was destined to prove more memorable, and more
successful to the allies. Gibraltar, the blockade of which had been
commenced the preceding October by the marquis of Villadarias, and which
was now pressed by Tessé, the successor of Berwick, made so gallant a
defence that in May its siege was raised. Though disappointed at the
ill success of its imbecile generals in Spain, the English cabinet was
emboldened, by the victories of Marlborough, to make new and mightier
efforts against the Bourbon prince in the south. In June, fifteen
thousand men, under Lord Peterborough, were despatched to Spain. This
extraordinary man, whose eccentricities even surpassed his genius, on
arriving at Lisbon was joined by the archduke Charles, who was justly
disgusted with the ill success of his affairs in Portugal. The prince
of Hesse-Darmstadt persuaded the archduke to advance against Barcelona.
He well knew that the indignation of the people against the crown and
the Castilians, joined to their desire for the recovery of their lost
independence,--a desire which had subsisted with unimpaired force since
the time of Ferdinand the Catholic,--had multiplied the disaffected.
[Sidenote: [1705-1706 A.D.]]
On arriving before Barcelona, Peterborough saw that the fortifications
were in the best state, and well defended; and he knew that an army
four times as numerous as the one he commanded would be necessary to
form the first line of circumvallation. In this emergency he resolved
to attempt the surprise of the fortress of Monjuich, which overlooks
the city, and the possession of which would, if not decide, at least
prepare the surrender of Barcelona. But that fortress, being built on
the summit of an abrupt hill, and protected by formidable works, was
considered impregnable; and impregnable it would have proved to an open
attack. Secrecy being the soul of his enterprise, which he did not
communicate even to the archduke, with the view of lulling the garrison
into security, he re-embarked his great guns, and announced his intention
of sailing for Italy. But, the very night appointed for his departure,
he silently moved fourteen hundred men towards the works, acquainted the
gallant Hesse-Darmstadt with his intention; and both heroes, on reaching
the foot of the ramparts, waited until day should dawn.
The assault was then vigorously made by about three hundred men. It
succeeded though the prince was killed. From this elevation the artillery
of the English played with tremendous effect on the ramparts of the city;
a breach was made, and a day appointed for the assault. The governor,
Velasco, though among the bravest of the brave, to avoid the horrors
attending a storming, offered to capitulate. On the 23rd of October, the
archduke solemnly entered, and was proclaimed king of Spain. The example
of the capital was followed by the rest of the principality; it spread
into Valencia, next into Aragon and Murcia, which ultimately ranged
themselves on the same side. For the rapidity of such success it is
difficult to account.
The English historians gently slide over the atrocities of this war.
Though all profess to follow San Felipe[b] they do not mention the rapes,
murders, acts of sacrilege, and robberies committed by the English and
their allies, the Catalan _miquelets_, who were, in fact, a species of
banditti. Wives ravished before the eyes of their fettered husbands,
daughters before their fathers; even churches turned into brothels,
and the altars used as the most convenient places for the consummation
of such iniquities, are said to have been common scenes. The Catalans
themselves are implicated in them.
Lord Mahon[f] will not allow Tessé[g] to have possessed merit of any
description. Both his memoirs and his letters show that he was a
sagacious observer; and his military talents were unquestionably not mean.
The reduction of Barcelona and the insurrection of Valencia could not
fail to make a profound impression at Madrid. By this time Philip seems
to have attained a salutary conviction that, unless he assumed an
activity corresponding to his circumstances, his reign would soon be
at an end; he accordingly resolved to take the field in person. Having
petitioned Louis for a powerful reinforcement, and withdrawn most of the
troops engaged on the frontiers of Portugal,--leaving a handful only
under Berwick, who had been again ordered to assume the conduct of the
western war,--he proceeded to invest Barcelona, the recovery of which
would naturally constrain the submission of Catalonia, and perhaps put an
end to the war by the capture of his rival.
In the passage through Aragon little care was taken by the royal army to
cultivate the good will of the people; because a lieutenant was murdered
in his bed at Guerrea, the incensed soldiers were permitted, not only
to plunder the inhabitants, but to massacre the neighbouring peasantry.
Philip proceeded towards the capital, under the walls of which he was
joined by the duke of Noailles; and he had the gratification of seeing
the entrance to the harbour blockaded by a fleet of thirty sail. Yet
twenty-three days elapsed before the fall of Monjuich, and several more
before a breach was made in the walls of the city wide enough to admit
the assailants. In a few hours Philip was assured that the enemy would be
in his power. At this critical moment, when the sun of Charles seemed to
be set forever, a British squadron appeared in sight; the French fleet
retired towards Toulon.
[Illustration: VALENCIA]
Philip, forsaking his guns, his baggage, and even his wounded, made a
precipitate though reluctant retreat. At this time his affairs seemed
hopeless. The duke of Marlborough had just triumphed at Ramillies; a
French army in Italy had been almost annihilated; and the war in his
own western provinces was no less disastrous than in the eastern. Great
as were the abilities of Berwick, his small band could not face the
forty thousand enemies before him: he therefore retreated, and had the
mortification to witness the capture of Alcantara, Ciudad Rodrigo, and
Salamanca, and the approach of the confederates towards Madrid. By his
advice the court was removed to Burgos, the ancient capital of Castile.
It was high time; for scarcely had Philip left it, when the light troops
of Galway and De las Minas appeared in sight, and on the 28th day of
June, those chiefs, at the head of thirty thousand men, made a triumphant
entry into Madrid.
To ordinary and even to many acute observers the Bourbon power seemed
forever fallen in the peninsula. Without forces, without money, a
fugitive from his capital, which was occupied by a formidable enemy,
his fairest provinces in the power of his rival, Philip was expected
to retreat into France. But adversity called forth powers which had
hitherto slumbered within him, and the existence of which had not been
suspected, perhaps, even by himself. With a fortitude which would have
done honour to a stoic, he bore his sudden, almost overwhelming reverses:
with pathetic simplicity he harangued his handful of troops, whom he
assured of his unalterable resolution of dying with them in defence of
their common country; and, as to the future, he looked forward with a
hope which showed that he knew the Spanish character much better than his
timid counsellors.
[Sidenote: [1706-1707 A.D.]]
When the allied troops had entered into Madrid, no shout had been raised
in favour of Charles: a mournful silence reigned on every side. Madrid
was not Spain, and the Spaniards were not Flemings--facts of which the
allied generals had soon a melancholy experience. In Castile, almost
every individual became a soldier. Estremadura furnished and equipped
twelve thousand; in Salamanca, no sooner had the allies left it on the
march to the capital than the inhabitants arose, again proclaimed Philip,
and levied a body of troops to cut off all communication between them and
Portugal. Those whom sickness or age prevented from drawing the sword,
contributed their money to the same end. “The day before yesterday,”
wrote the princess Orsini, “a priest brought 120 pistoles to the queen,
from a village which contained only the same number of houses. He said,
‘My flock are ashamed of sending so small a sum; but they wish me to say
that there are also 120 hearts faithful even to death.’ The good man
wept as he spoke, and truly we wept with him!” The rising spirit of the
people was not the only cause of this change: the allied generals grew
suddenly inactive; the troops in Madrid abandoned themselves to many
excesses, which they found more attractive than the fatigues and dangers
of a campaign. Had even the inhabitants been attached to Charles, the
presence of the Portuguese--such were nearly all the troops under De las
Minas--would have changed their loyalty into disgust. Another expedient
of a most loathsome kind did more mischief; the common women were
instructed to visit the tents of the invaders, of whom six thousand were
soon taken to the hospitals.
Charles himself wasted so much time in Barcelona and Aragon, that when he
joined his generals at Guadalajara he perceived the active Berwick at the
head of a greater force than his own. By that able man his communication
with Aragon was intercepted--it had been already cut off with Portugal;
Andalusia was in arms, so that his only way of escape was into Valencia.
Philip joined in the pursuit as far as the confines of Murcia, witnessed
the reduction of Orihuela, Cuenca, and Cartagena, and returned in triumph
to Madrid, which received him with enthusiastic demonstrations of joy.
[Sidenote: [1707-1710 A.D.]]
The tide of success had now set in too strongly to be stemmed by any
barrier opposed by the allies. On the plain of Almanza, De las Minas
and Galway were signally defeated by the able Berwick. This victory
established the throne of Philip: it inspired his adherents with
confidence; in the same degree it dispirited his enemies, and it was
followed by advantages of still greater moment. While the duke d’Orléans,
who arrived with reinforcements from France, led an army into Aragon,
Berwick proceeded to reduce the fortresses of Valencia. The capitals
of both kingdoms submitted without striking a blow: in the former, the
example was imitated by the remaining strong places; in the latter
Denia, Jativa, and Alicante resisted, but were ultimately reduced. In
punishment of their desperate valour the inhabitants of Jativa were
barbarously butchered, the walls were razed to the ground, and when it
was subsequently rebuilt, it was not allowed to retain its former name,
but received that of San Felipe. But the heaviest of all penalties was
the abolition of the ancient fueros, both of Aragon and Valencia, by a
royal decree of June 29th, 1707. This abolition was effected in virtue of
the royal authority, and of the right of conquest; the privileges, says
the decree, had been granted at the mere pleasure of the crown, and the
same pleasure now revoked them. The pretension was not more iniquitous
than it was false. But these considerations had no influence on the
Castilians, who looked only at the rebellion, and who, envious of the
distinction hitherto possessed by the other kingdoms, were now resolved
to reduce them to the same level. The same fate had been decreed against
the privileges of Catalonia, the recovery of which now occupied the cares
of the French general. But, before this object could be gained, new
and almost unparalleled difficulties had to be encountered. Naples was
conquered by the Austrians; and Milan was already in their power. Tortosa
made a long and brilliant defence; some reinforcements were received
from England; Galway was displaced by Stanhope, an officer of courage
and experience; Count Starhemberg, the imperial general, arrived with
auxiliaries, and the Balearic Isles were reduced by the allies.
Yet though in addition to these misfortunes the duke of Orléans was
recalled through the intrigues of the princess Orsini; though, from the
reverses of his arms in the Low Countries, Louis XIV intimated that he
should be compelled to make whatever terms he could with the allies, if
even they insisted on the sacrifice of his grandson; though the finances
were in a distressed state; though, in the memorable campaign of 1710,
Philip failed against Balaguer, was defeated by Starhemberg at Almenara,
still more signally near Saragossa; though he was forced to retreat
to his capital, and immediately afterwards to transfer his court from
Madrid, which he was again destined to see in the power of his enemies,
to Valladolid--still he had the consolation to find that his reverses
endeared him to his people, and that Spanish loyalty and honour were not
to be shaken. Volunteers again flocked in from all quarters; again were
contributions of money and corn sent as free gifts. Add to this that the
victory of La Godiña, obtained over the luckless Galway, the recovery
of Ciudad Rodrigo, and the reduction of some Portuguese fortresses on
the Estremadura frontier had naturally encouraged many to remain firm
in their loyalty; and so great was the attachment borne to him that,
when his rival Charles entered the capital (in October), scarcely a
“_viva!_” was raised even by the lowest of the mob. The English general
candidly confessed that the allies could command no more of the country
than where they were actually encamped, and that the nation was against
them. Charles was soon disgusted with Madrid; he left it the following
month, and was scarcely beyond the gates when he had the mortification
to hear the bells merrily ringing for his departure. During their stay,
his English allies exasperated the people beyond forgiveness by their
continued insults to the established faith, and by lawless rapine.
Again was Philip recalled by the inhabitants of Madrid, who greeted him
with their warmest acclamations. Accompanied by the duke of Vendôme,
who had arrived from France, he hastened in pursuit of the allies. At
Brihuega they overtook Stanhope, at the head of fifty-five hundred men,
chiefly English. In suffering himself to be surprised by a force so much
superior, in a town of which the fortifications were few, and these
few ruinous, was a fatal error; but he nobly resolved to prolong the
defence to the last extremity. But in the end, when longer resistance
was impossible, these brave men capitulated, and were dispersed through
Castile.
The following morning Starhemberg, who had been requested by Stanhope to
advance to the relief of his allies, arrived within sight of the place,
and Vendôme prepared to receive him. In the battle which ensued, fortune
declared for Vendôme.
[Sidenote: [1710-1713 A.D.]]
These disasters, at a time when the allied cause was expected to be
resistless, the amazing sacrifices of men and money, which England had
so long and so unwisely made, and, above all, the change of Queen Anne’s
ministry, strongly indisposed her people to the continuation of the war.
Besides, by the death of the emperor Joseph, in April, 1711, Charles,
the last male of his house, succeeded to immense possessions, and was
invested with the imperial dignity--an expectation indeed soon verified
by the event; and the union of so many states with the crown of Spain
threatened to become no less fatal to the pretended balance of power than
even the union of France and Spain.
At length Louis, having consented to swear that the two crowns of
France and Spain should never be united on the same head; and Philip
having renounced, both for himself and his successors, all claim to the
former--engagements which neither considered binding--a general peace
was signed, April 11th, 1713, by the ambassadors of all the sovereigns
except the emperor. Its provisions, as far as Spain is concerned, were
few but momentous. Philip was acknowledged king of Spain and the Indies;
but Sicily, with the regal title, was ceded to the duke of Savoy, and
Milan, Naples, Sardinia, and the Netherlands to the emperor; Gibraltar,
and Minorca, with the commercial advantages before mentioned, to the
English; a general amnesty was guaranteed to the Catalans, but without
any stipulations for the preservation of their ancient fueros. In case
Philip died without issue, the succession was to devolve, not on a prince
of the house of France but on the duke of Savoy.
By this celebrated peace Spain was stripped of half her possessions in
Europe. The War of the Succession was now virtually at an end: Charles,
disabled by the defection of his allies, opened negotiations for
withdrawing his troops from Catalonia; and though the inhabitants of the
capital were resolved to continue the struggle unaided, it could not be
of long continuance. Neither this war, nor the peace which followed it,
was honourable to the allies. It was signalised by many atrocities, and
by incessant insults to the religion of the country, and the morals of
the people.
Of all the parties in this war, England is by far the most censurable.
Hurried into it by hereditary, and in this case absurd, jealousy of
France, she conducted it without glory, and ended it with discredit. She
forced the Catalans into rebellion, yet she now abandoned them to a cruel
and vindictive persecution.
THE CATALAN REVOLT (1713-1714 A.D.)
[Sidenote: [1713-1714 A.D.]]
When the Catalans knew that the king had resolved to abolish their
fueros, that neither honour nor justice was to be expected from England,
and that the emperor himself was compelled to forsake them, instead
of bewailing their situation, they manfully resolved to continue
in arms against the whole force of the Bourbons. They rejected the
proffered amnesty of Philip, unless their privileges were to be declared
inviolable. Had the king complied with this condition, he would,
doubtless, have attached to his throne, by the strongest of all ties,
this brave and independent people; but he appears to have regarded every
form of freedom with abhorrence, and to have considered the frequent
insurrections as a consequence of their superior rights. A slight
acquaintance with the national history would have taught him that they
were occasioned by the repeated and unconstitutional usurpations of the
crown.
The Catalans did not fall without one of the noblest struggles on record.
An overwhelming army reduced all their fortresses, except Cardeña and
the capital; the latter was invested, held for months in a state of
blockade, while a formidable artillery played, with few intermissions,
on the walls. In the spring of 1714, twenty thousand Frenchmen, under
Berwick, arrived to reinforce the besiegers; nay, an English squadron was
despatched for the same purpose. Nothing could daunt the inhabitants;
all who were strong enough flew to arms; even the women and the
ecclesiastics. Unfortunately they disgraced their cause by many excesses:
never was tyranny more complete than that which reigned within the walls
of Barcelona. All who did not prefer the rashest to the most moderate
measures, were massacred by a ferocious mob. Even priests were forced
from the altar or the pulpit to the scaffold or the gallows. In the
meantime Berwick found that his most vigorous attacks were repulsed with
loss. The desperate defenders had rallied round a black banner, on which
was the representation of a death’s head,--an intimation that they would
neither give nor receive quarter,--in a series of wild, almost superhuman
efforts.
[Illustration: PULPIT, BURGOS CATHEDRAL]
Nothing now remained but to make the last awful attempt. Fifty companies
of grenadiers advanced. Of the desperate valour of the besieged some
idea may be formed, when it is known that in the course of this eventful
day the bastion of San Pedro was won and lost eleven times: women and
priests advanced to the charge with amazing impetuosity; and such was
the havoc which they and their comrades inflicted on the enemy, that
in one regiment, long before the close of the struggle, every superior
officer had fallen, and an ensign remained with the command. But numbers
prevailed: after twelve hours of incessant fighting, the small remnant
of Catalans began to give way; a white flag was hoisted, the carnage was
suspended, negotiations were opened; but as the deputies still insisted
on the inviolability of their ancient rights, they were hastily broken
off. During the night, a fire of musketry was maintained from the houses;
but in the morning of September 12th, when Berwick was proceeding to put
all to the sword, and burn the city to the ground, the leaders consented
to capitulate.[99]
[Sidenote: [1712-1716 A.D.]]
In return for his renunciation of all future claim to the crown of
Fiance, in 1712, Philip forced, rather than persuaded, his council to
alter the order of succession in Spain--to introduce a sort of Salic
law, by which the most distant male of the family would be called to
the inheritance in preference to the nearest female. The cabals of the
princess Orsini, who aspired to a small independent sovereignty in the
Low Countries, and who in her disappointment opposed everything which had
not served her personal ambition, added to the national dissatisfaction.
Even after the death of the queen of Spain, in February, 1714, who
left two sons, the infantes Luis and Ferdinand, her influence remained
paramount. Perceiving that Philip would not long remain without a
queen, it was her aim to provide him with one who would be as flexible
to her purposes as the last. To preserve her present reign, she caused
the direction of affairs to be intrusted to M. Orry, whose attempts
to shake the power of the Inquisition, to curtail the immunities of
the church, rendered both him and her the objects of orthodox hatred.
But her ascendency was fast hastening to its close; and, with all her
penetration, it was hastened by one of far humbler rank, but of superior
cunning to herself.
At this period the celebrated Italian abate Alberoni appears on the
stage of Spanish history: he had entered the country as the agent of
the duke of Parma, and had been protected by Vendôme. He had access to
the court, where he soon insinuated himself into the good graces of the
princess. Seeing her embarrassment in choosing a wife for the king, he
one day proposed Elizabeth [or Isabella] Farnese, daughter of the late,
and niece of the present duke of Parma, whom he artfully represented as
simple, devout, immured from the world, and exactly fitted to become her
instrument.
Negotiations were secretly opened for the marriage; the papal
dispensation--for the future was nearly related to the deceased
queen--was procured; and the favourite exulted in the prospect of
continued rule, when she discovered the real character of her future
mistress. Scarcely was she introduced to Elizabeth, when, by order of
the latter, she was arrested and hurried towards the frontier, without
a moment’s time to collect her wardrobe. She passed to Rome, where she
ended her days in the household of the unfortunate Stuart. Her fate
excited no sympathy; it was rather beheld with satisfaction: but yet it
will be regarded by future generations with much interest, as a peculiar
illustration of the instability of courts.
A NEW EUROPEAN WAR (1715-1719 A.D.)
The disgrace of the princess Orsini was followed by the removal of Orry
and her other creatures from the administration. Like her predecessor
Maria Louisa, Elizabeth succeeded to the most unbounded power over the
royal mind, especially after the death of Louis XIV, whom Philip had been
accustomed to regard with mingled reverence and fear. That event changed
his policy. Next to Louis XV, now a child, he was the heir to the French
crown--his renunciation to procure the Peace of Utrecht had been esteemed
both by himself and his grandfather a farce--and, as such, he might
aspire to the regency. It was dexterously seized by the duke d’Orléans, a
circumstance which alienated him from the French court.
[Sidenote: [1716-1718 A.D.]]
The queen, whose talents were of a higher order than her predecessor’s,
whose power of dissimulation would have been honoured even in Italy,
aspired to place a son of her own (in 1716 she was delivered of the
infante Don Charles) on the throne of France. To the attainment of this
object, and the continuation of the Spanish influence in Italy, her
whole soul was bent. Having, by his dexterous intrigues no less than the
queen’s favour, annihilated the power of the prime minister, the cardinal
Del Giudice, and obtained the direction of affairs, Alberoni began to
exhibit his designs on Italy, which were so injurious to the Austrian
domination in that peninsula. They could not be wholly hidden from the
imperial court; hence distrust, next ill will between Madrid and Vienna.
The impolitic and arbitrary arrest of the Spanish ambassador in Italy, by
the emperor’s order, so irritated Philip, that he resolved on war, even
though he knew that a triple alliance had been formed between France,
England, and Holland, to preserve the integrity of the Treaty of Utrecht.
As Spain was sure to stand alone in the conflict, and might probably be
opposed to all Europe, Alberoni strongly disapproved the war, until he
saw that, by persisting in his fruitless opposition, he should only seal
his own disgrace. From that moment he showed great alacrity in preparing
for it. With the view of conferring greater lustre on his character and
administration, he compelled the pope to bestow on him the dignity of
cardinal.
In August an armament, consisting of twelve ships and nine thousand men,
left Barcelona and steered for Sardinia. In about two months the island
was subdued. So unjustifiable an aggression, without previous declaration
of war, deeply mortified the emperor and alarmed Europe. In June, 1718,
a Spanish fleet, consisting of twenty-three ships and thirty thousand
men, again left Barcelona, cast anchor about four leagues from Palermo,
and landed the forces. Europe beheld with some alarm this vigorous and
unexpected effort of a power which, since the reign of Philip II, had
sunk into insignificance. In the apprehension of another war not less
fatal than that which had been ended by the Peace of Utrecht, France now
joined with England, Austria, and the Dutch in the treaty afterwards
known by the name of the Quadruple Alliance. But the cardinal disregarded
the approaching storm, and refused to recall the forces in Sicily.
Palermo and Messina (except the citadel) were speedily occupied; the
whole island was preparing to receive the Spanish yoke, when the British
fleet, under Admiral Byng, arrived off the Sicilian coast. In the action
which followed, the Spanish fleet was almost wholly taken or destroyed.
In revenge, Alberoni entered into an alliance with Charles XII of Sweden
and the czar Peter to assist the Stuart in an invasion of Great Britain;
but the death of the Swedish hero frustrated his hopes.
His next step was to organise a conspiracy, the object of which was to
arrest the French regent, the duke of Orléans, and to proclaim Philip as
the guardian of the infante Luis. It was discovered, and war declared
against Spain. At the head of thirty thousand men, the celebrated Berwick
passed the Pyrenees into Biscay, traversed Béarn, invaded Catalonia,
took Urgel, and, after an ineffectual attempt on Rosas, retired into
Roussillon. Undaunted by these reverses, the cardinal fitted out at
Cadiz a formidable expedition, which he professed to be directed against
Sicily, but which he despatched under the duke of Ormonde; towards
Scotland, to assist in placing James Stuart on the throne of Britain. But
a fatality seems to have attended all Spanish armaments against England.
Off Cape Finisterre, the present one was dispersed by a violent storm;
two frigates only reached their destination, and the handful of troops
they poured on the Scottish coast was soon compelled to surrender. In
revenge a British squadron committed great devastations on the coast of
Galicia.
[Sidenote: [1718-1724 A.D.]]
In Sicily, affairs began to assume an appearance equally unfavourable for
this enterprising minister. Austrian troops were poured into the island,
and the Spaniards were driven from their plains into the fortified
places. Spain now stood alone against armed Europe. These misfortunes
made a deep impression on the mind of Philip, who began to regard his
minister with an unfriendly eye. The cardinal, in the height of his power
and totally unsuspicious of his situation, received a sudden order to
leave Madrid in a week, and the Spanish dominions in three.
His memory was bitterly persecuted in Spain: attempts were made to
procure his degradation from the purple; but he vindicated himself in
an elaborate apology,[i] which he contrived to publish, and which did
little honour to Philip and the queen. In twelve months, on the death
of Clement XI, he emerged from his secret retirement, and attended the
conclave for the election of a new pope. He was subsequently a great
favourite with the Roman see. While in power he had introduced many and
most salutary improvements into the internal administration; he restored
to a considerable extent the national prosperity; and he was beyond all
comparison the greatest minister the country had possessed since the
famous cardinal Ximenes Cisneros.
After the removal of the cardinal, Philip acceded to the Quadruple
Alliance, renounced all claim to the dismembered provinces of the
monarchy, consented to see Sicily transferred to the emperor, and
Sardinia to the duke of Savoy: in return, he was acknowledged by his
old rival as king of Spain and the Indies; and the reversion of the
two Italian principalities was entailed on the issue of his present
marriage--on the condition, however, that they should never be united
with the Spanish crown. But these were poor advantages in comparison with
the extent of his preparations for the war. Having humbled the Moors
of Africa, who had long aimed at the reduction of Ceuta, he demanded
Gibraltar, which, in fact, had been verbally promised to him by the duke
of Orléans, as the condition of his acceding to the Quadruple Alliance.
That the duke had acted by the authority of the English government, is
indisputable; but the ministry, seeing the opposition of the English
people to the restitution of so important a place, were not ashamed to
sacrifice the honour of the country, and to evade the fulfilment of the
pledge. This was a subject of endless dispute between the two governments
during the remainder of Philip’s reign.
PHILIP ABDICATES AND RETURNS (1724 A.D.)
In revenge, and because he really found that his best dependence was in
his own family, in 1721, he contracted a matrimonial alliance with the
hereditary enemy of England: his eldest son Luis was contracted with
Louisa Isabella [or Elizabeth], daughter of the duke of Orléans. Soon
after, he formed a resolution which filled all Europe with astonishment,
that of abdicating the crown in favour of his son and of retiring to
the splendid palace of San Ildefonso, which he had himself founded. The
motives for this step may be found in his melancholy temperament, in his
religious feeling--a feeling little tempered by sober reason--and in an
anxiety to escape from sceptred cares, which had weighed more heavily on
him than on any other prince of the age. Nor was he without the ambition
of equalling, in this respect, the glory of his predecessor the emperor
Charles. The decree of abdication was dated January 10th, 1724; and
Philip, having solemnly vowed never to resume the crown, retired in a
few days to his chosen retreat. The court of the youthful Luis was filled
with Philip’s own creatures, who paid more deference to him than to their
new monarch; nor was anything of moment undertaken without his previous
sanction. The irregularities of the court afforded him sufficient
pretext for interference. Louisa Isabella, the new queen, was wayward,
capricious, and depraved; regardless of Spanish customs, and attached to
the follies if not the licentiousness of the French court. To correct
her, she was arrested, and confined to the Buen Retiro, but released
before the end of the week, on her promise of amendment. The death of
Luis (who by will declared him successor), by the smallpox, in August,
1724, after a seven months’ reign, again induced Philip to claim the
sovereignty. But that sovereignty he had solemnly abdicated; the act had
been registered by the council of Castile, and sanctioned by his own vow.
Through the artifices of the queen, however, who prevailed on the papal
legate to absolve him from his vow, he dismissed his unwelcome scruples,
and resumed the regal functions in all their extent.
THE ADVENTURES OF RIPPERDÁ
[Sidenote: [1724-1726 A.D.]]
The restoration of Philip was naturally that of his queen’s policy--the
establishment, by treaty or force, of his son Don Charles [afterwards
Charles III] in the Italian principalities. Indignant at the evident
lukewarmness of England, France, and Holland, in a matter which they
themselves had proposed to advocate, he suddenly swerved from his past
policy, and despatched an ambassador to Vienna to obtain from the
emperor, hitherto his bitter rival, advantages which were not to be
expected from the interested delays of the mediators.
The person employed in this mission was one of the most extraordinary
characters in political life--the baron de Ripperdá, a Catholic gentleman
of Spanish descent, but a native of the Netherlands, of good education
but of no principle. Perceiving that his religion was a barrier to his
ambition in his native country, he embraced the Protestant, and was
returned a deputy to the states-general. His general talents and his
knowledge of commerce were such that he was chosen envoy to Madrid, to
settle the commercial differences of the two nations. Perceiving that
both fortune and honours were to be more easily obtained in the service
of Spain than in any other, he resigned his ministry, procured letters of
naturalisation, and reverted to his original religion.
The fall of Alberoni, which was partly owing to his intrigues, and the
bold plans he proposed for invigorating the industry and improving the
revenues of the kingdom, rendered him a favourite with Philip; with the
queen, his bold suggestion to negotiate immediately with the emperor
established his credit. Being selected for the difficult mission, in
November, 1725, he repaired secretly to Vienna. Early in the following
year treaties were signed. For his services on this occasion, and still
more for the magnificent, though impracticable proposals which he had
made for the renovation of the Spanish monarchy, the ambassador was
created duke de Ripperdá, a grandee of Spain, and on his return, prime
minister.
[Sidenote: [1726-1729 A.D.]]
But his elevation turned his head; his inability to realise any of
the magnificent promises which he had made showed him in his true
colours--as an unprincipled adventurer. Not six months had elapsed
since his accession when, by a royal decree, he was dismissed from his
employments and transferred to the fortress of Segovia. There he would,
doubtless, have ended his days without trial, had he not contrived to
effect his escape by the aid of a maid-servant whom he had seduced, and
who afterwards accompanied him in all his extraordinary adventures. He
arrived safely in Portugal, embarked at Oporto, remained a short time in
England, and proceeded into his native country; but the imminency of his
danger increasing, he fled to Morocco, where a renegade had secured him
a favourable reception. Whether, as is asserted, during his short stay
in Holland he again embraced the Protestant faith, is perhaps doubtful,
but that at the court of Mulei Abdallah he submitted to circumcision
is probable, even though the relation rests on no other authority than
that of his enemies. It is certain that for some years he directed the
councils and commanded the armies of the Moorish emperor, after whose
dethronement he retired to Istria, where he ended his days in 1737,
professing, in his last moments, that he died in the Roman Catholic faith.
[Illustration: SPANISH NOBLEWOMAN]
[Sidenote: [1729-1738 A.D.]]
The chief remaining transactions of this eventful reign must be related
with greater brevity. For some time after the disgrace of Ripperdá,
Spain adhered to the German alliance; and was alternately friendly or
adverse to England, according as the policy of the two courts harmonised
or varied. Gibraltar was more than once besieged, but without effect.
British armaments frequently appeared off the Spanish coast, but without
inflicting much injury. As the emperor was naturally averse again to
admit the Spaniards into Italy, and sought for delays, even for evasions,
in fulfilling his compact, in 1729 the Treaty of Seville, between Spain,
England, and France, broke the connection between the courts of Vienna
and Madrid. Philip, by threatening to revoke the commercial advantages
secured by the Treaty of Seville, forced the English king to interfere in
behalf of Don Charles. In virtue of his efforts, and the assistance of
France, the infante was soon invested with the actual possession of Parma
and Piacenza, and declared successor to Tuscany.[100] As England evinced
a disposition to remain on good terms with the emperor, the Bourbons
adhered the more closely to each other; the kings of Spain, France, and
Sardinia entered into an alliance against Austria.
It was now that doubtful measures and useless treaties were succeeded by
active and extended hostilities. While one French army crossed the Rhine,
and another passed the Alps, a Spanish army under Charles invaded Naples,
and conquered it almost without an effort. Sicily was next reduced; and
the infante, by order of Philip, was solemnly crowned king of the Two
Sicilies. By the Treaty of Vienna, in 1735, the emperor, whose arms had
been almost uniformly unfortunate, consented to acknowledge Charles, and
in return he received Parma and Tuscany.
Omitting the petty intrigues in the cabinet of Madrid--the rise of one
worthless favourite, or the ruin of another--the foreign transactions
of the country continued to be sufficiently important. England was soon
brought into hostile collision with this monarchy. One reason was the
jealousy entertained of the Bourbon family by the recent acquisition;
another was the opposition thrown in the way of English commerce by the
ministers of Philip; a still greater was the contraband traffic which
England resolved to maintain with the American colonies--a traffic not
very honourable to England and deeply injurious to Spain. On the other
hand, the royal officers in the West Indies, under the pretext of the
right of search, made many illegal seizures; and, on all occasions,
exhibited indirect hostility to the British trade. Her right of search
arose from her sovereignty, and had been confirmed by successive
treaties; but it was suddenly assailed by the English opposition.[l]
[Illustration: THE LAST OF THE ARMADA]
There is no doubt that though the English were most frequently to blame
in these transactions, several cases of injustice and violence might be
imputed to the Spaniards. These cases were carefully culled out, and
highly coloured by the British merchants: these were held out to the
British public as fair samples of the rest, while a veil was thrown over
the general practice of illicit traffic in America. The usual slowness
of forms at Madrid and the difficulty of obtaining redress, even in the
clearest cases, added to the national indignation in England: it was also
inflamed by a denial of the right to cut logwood in the bay of Campeche,
and disputes on the limits of the new settlement which the English had
lately formed in North America, and which, in honour to the king, had
received the name of Georgia.
These grievances of the British merchants, embodied in angry yet artful
petitions, were urged by the opposition in repeated attacks and with
combined exertions. First came a motion for papers, next the examination
of witnesses, next a string of resolutions, then a bill for securing and
encouraging trade to America. The tried ability of Pulteney led the van
on these occasions, and under him were marshalled the practical knowledge
of Barnard, the stately eloquence of Wyndham, and the rising genius of
Pitt. William Murray, the future earl of Mansfield, also appeared at the
bar as counsel for the petitioners, and thus commenced his brilliant
public career. Every resource of oratory was applied to exaggerate the
insults and cruelties of the Spaniards, and to brand as cowardice the
minister’s wise and honourable love of peace. It was asserted that
the prisoners taken from English merchant vessels had been not merely
plundered of their property, but tortured in their persons, immured in
dungeons, or compelled to work in the Spanish dockyards, with scanty
and loathsome food, their legs cramped with irons, and their bodies
overrun with vermin. Some captives and seamen who were brought to the
bar gave testimony to these outrages, and were then implicitly believed.
Yet calmer judgment may remember that they were not examined upon oath,
and had every temptation to exaggerate which interest, party zeal, or
resentment can afford; that to inveigh against the Spaniards was then
considered a sure test of public spirit; and that they were told to
expect, upon the fall of Walpole, a large and lucrative indemnity for
their pretended wrongs.
[Sidenote: [1738-1739 A.D.]]
But the tale that produced the most effect upon the house, and found the
loudest echo in the country, was what Burke has since ventured to call
“the fable of Jenkins’ ears.” This Jenkins had been master of a trading
sloop from Jamaica, which was boarded and searched by a Spanish _guarda
costa_, and though no proofs of smuggling were discovered, yet, according
to his own statement, he underwent the most barbarous usage. The Spanish
captain, he said, had torn off one of his ears, bidding him carry it to
his king, and tell his majesty that were he present he should be treated
in the same manner.
This story, which had lain dormant for seven years, was now seasonably
revived at the bar of the house of commons. It is certain that Jenkins
had lost an ear, or part of an ear, which he always carried about with
him wrapped in cotton, to display to his audience; but I find it alleged
by no mean authority that he had lost it on another occasion, and
perhaps, as seems to be insinuated, in the pillory. His tale, however,
as always happens in moments of great excitement, was readily admitted
without proof; and a spirited answer which he gave enhanced the popular
effect. Being asked by a member what were his feelings when he found
himself in the hands of such barbarians, “I recommended,” said he, “my
soul to God, and my cause to my country.” These words rapidly flew from
mouth to mouth, adding fuel to the general flame, and it is almost
incredible how strong an impulse was imparted both to parliament and to
the public. “We have no need of allies to enable us to command justice,”
cried Pulteney; “the story of Jenkins will raise volunteers.”
On his part, Walpole did not deny that great outrages and injuries had
been wrought by the Spaniards, but he expressed his hope that they might
still admit of full and friendly compensation; he promised his strenuous
exertions with the court of Madrid, and he besought the house not to
close the avenue to peace by any intemperate proceedings, and especially
by denouncing altogether the right of search,[101] which the Spaniards
had so long exercised, and would hardly be persuaded to relinquish.[j]
SPANISH ACCOUNT OF THE WAR WITH ENGLAND (1739-1741 A.D.)
[Sidenote: [1739-1741 A.D.]]
At length Walpole could no longer resist public outcry; King George
gave orders for a numerous squadron to be fitted out and appointed
Vernon admiral of the fleet destined against the Spanish Antilles. A
formal declaration of war was published on October 23rd, 1739. London
received it with enthusiasm, the bells of the churches were pealed, a
huge multitude accompanied the heralds, and everywhere it was heard
with frenzied acclamation. It would seem that Great Britain’s salvation
depended on this war, and speculators rejoiced at the prospect of the
treasures to be brought from the mines of Peru and Potosí. It was also
many years since the Spaniards had entered on a war with such unanimous
good will. Monarch, ministers, and people looked upon it as a national
struggle, in which justice and the interests and honour of king and state
were at stake.
Fortunately also, the fleet arrived opportunely from America, with great
profits, having evaded the vigilance of the English who attempted to give
chase. By this means, while England was compelled to keep a considerable
fleet to watch the movements of the French who threatened her coasts,
numerous Spanish privateers set sail from all the ports of Spain, and
cruising about with daring courage captured a number of English merchant
ships in a very short time. We are assured that within three months of
the issue of the letters of reprisal, eighteen English prizes had been
brought into San Sebastian, and that before the year was over a list
remitted from Madrid was published in Holland, which put the value of the
prizes made at more than 23,000,000 reales [£234,000 or $1,170,000]. This
only increased the anger and desire for vengeance of the English. Their
efforts were principally directed against the Spanish possessions in the
New World. Vernon’s squadron attacked and took Porto Bello, November
22nd, 1739. The news was received in England with universal jubilation,
though it hardly called for such general rejoicing, the prize certainly
not corresponding to the expenses of so large a fleet, all that Vernon
seized at this place being three small ships and $3,000 in Spanish money.
The English now despatched a formidable fleet of twenty-one ships of the
line and as many frigates with nine thousand men, to invade the West
Indies, the chief object of their ambition.
This squadron was to join Vernon’s; and almost at the same time Commodore
Anson set sail with another small squadron to cruise about the coast of
Peru and Chile. Much time had passed since so large and well-equipped a
fleet had set sail from Great Britain; the kingdom held the brightest
hopes of it, the English thinking to cut off communication between Spain
and the New World, and by depriving the former of the treasures of
America to bring it to more humble and peaceable terms. But this nation,
so apt to criticise the Spanish slowness, delayed their preparations for
so long that the season passed, and the Spaniards had time to fortify
their towns and prepare for defence. But the English attacked Cartagena,
and succeeded in taking possession of several advanced forts at some
distance from the town.
These trifling successes made Admiral Vernon so confident of victory,
that he despatched letters to England announcing that he would shortly be
master of the town. The news was received in London with extraordinary
rejoicing; the English believed that they were near to overthrowing the
Spanish empire in America, and in their enthusiasm they caused a medal to
be struck, representing on one side Cartagena, and on the other a bust
of Vernon, with an allegorical inscription to the illustrious avenger of
national honour. These bright hopes speedily vanished; Vernon attempted
an assault on the fort of San Lazaro, for which twelve hundred men were
appointed, but nearly all fell victims to their ill-advised courage; the
few who remained were cut down by a party of Spaniards who sallied out
of the castle. This reverse increased the discord between Vernon and
Wentworth, commander of the troops; the continual rains had caused an
outbreak of a fatal disease which soon reduced the troops to half their
number. They were compelled to abandon the enterprise, and withdrew to
Jamaica, having destroyed all the forts they had taken.
Commodore Anson visited the coast of Chile, took possession of Payta,
and spent three days in sacking and firing the town. He then directed
his course to Panama in search of the rich vessels which carried the
treasures of the Indies to Spain. He finally succeeded in giving chase to
the Spanish galleon, _Nuestra Señora de Covadonga_, which he attacked and
captured with all her treasures, valued at £313,000 [$1,565,000], the
richest prize, says an English writer, ever brought into British ports,
but also the only loss of any importance suffered by Spain in this war.
The English made other attempts on the coasts of the New World, but
without success, either because of the intemperance of the climate and
the discord among the generals, or because of the precautions and wise
measures taken by the Spanish government. Admiral Vernon decided to
attempt the conquest of Cuba; but after several fruitless attempts he
soon saw that his forces were inadequate for the purpose. He was forced
to withdraw, having lost eighteen hundred men. Thus we may count as
destroyed the army and fleet which had left England, and raised the
confident hopes of the English people of depriving Spain of her dominion
in America. A few ships and a few weakened troops were all that remained
on Vernon’s return to England. Such was the result of the naval war
between England and Spain. An English contemporary writer calculates
that at least twenty thousand men were sacrificed in this unfortunate
expedition, and a foreign writer estimates the prizes taken by the
Spaniards during the war at 407 English ships.[k]
With this temperate Spanish account English historians generally agree,
Wm. Connor Sydney[m] calling the war “one of the greatest blots in the
chronicles of the realm.” Spain’s new naval power had been largely due to
the zeal of the minister José Patiño, who had, however, died in 1736, too
soon to see the glory of the victory over England.[a]
THE WAR OF THE AUSTRIAN SUCCESSION (1740-1746 A.D.)
[Sidenote: [1740-1746 A.D.]]
The death of the emperor Charles VI, the famous competitor of Philip,
without male issue, stimulated this monarch, as it did other sovereigns,
to acts of spoliation. While Bavaria, Saxony, Prussia, and France each
pursued its advantage, without regard to the succession which each had
guaranteed with the deceased emperor, he looked toward Italy in search
of an establishment for the infante Philip [or Felipe], his second son
by the present queen. Hence all Europe was engaged in war. In 1741 an
army was sent to Italy, a junction effected with the Neapolitans, and the
combined forces marched into Lombardy. But several circumstances impeded
the success of the Spanish arms. The king of Sardinia joined England and
Austria; a superior force expelled Montemar, the Spanish general, from
his position; a British squadron compelled the king of Naples to observe
neutrality; and the troops of that power were consequently recalled.
During the following years the war sometimes raged, but often languished,
with various success. Don Philip headed the army in person; but was more
than once compelled to retreat into the French territory; while at sea
the superiority generally lay with the British over the combined fleets
of France and Spain. At length the Neapolitan king broke his neutrality,
and rejoined the Spaniards: this junction enabled Don Philip to resume
the offensive. But after some desperate struggles,[102] the Spanish
and French troops were expelled. In the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, in
1748, Spain was disposed to lay down her arms, by the cession of Parma,
Guastalla, and Piacenza, to Don Philip.
Before the conclusion of this peace, in July, 1746, an attack of apoplexy
hurried Philip V to the grave. His character is apparent enough from his
actions: indeed, it requires no other illustration. Whatever might be
his general weakness, his unconquerable indolence, his subjection to his
queens, he had a sincere desire for the good of Spain; and in part that
desire was fulfilled. Under his rule the country enjoyed more prosperity
than it had experienced since the days of Philip II. Nor was he deficient
in a taste for literature. He founded the royal library of Madrid, the
royal Spanish academy, the academy of history, and the academy of San
Fernando, for the encouragement of the fine arts. In private life he
was a model for princes: he was almost spotless. His only fault, let us
rather say his only misfortune, was his want of capacity for the station
he occupied: he would have been an admirable private gentleman, or an
exemplary ecclesiastic.
THE GOOD KING FERDINAND VI (1746-1759 A.D.)
Ferdinand VI, second son of the deceased monarch, by Maria Louisa of
Savoy (the fate of the eldest, Luis, has been already related), was,
on his succession, in his thirty-fourth year. Though he did not want
natural affection for his step-brothers, he was not to be controlled
by the queen-dowager, whose influence was forever at an end; nor would
he sacrifice the best interests of his kingdom to provide Italian
sovereignties for the infantes [his half-brothers]. Hence, he consented
to procure peace for his dominions by the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, as
related. His disposition was averse to war, which, as he clearly saw, had
obstructed the career of the national improvement; nor was he so blind as
to be ignorant that the blood and treasures of his people had been wasted
for French or Austrian rather than Spanish objects. He respected the king
of France as the head of his house, but he asserted his resolution not
to become the viceroy of that monarch. If to this we add that he was a
prince of honour, of integrity, of strict veracity, we shall have said
all that truth will permit in his praise.
He had the melancholy temperament, the incapacity, the indolence of his
father; nor was he less uxorious. His queen, Maria Theresa Magdalena
Barbara, daughter of João V, king of Portugal, to whom he had been united
in 1729, was a woman of engaging manners and of mild disposition, but
avaricious. The same blemish attached to one of the most influential
ministers, the marquis of Ensenada,[103] a man of low origin, but of
ready parts and of profuse expenditure.
But the strangest influence over the destiny of the kingdom was that
exercised by a singer, the famous Farinelli, who by his profession had
made a fortune in England, and had been attracted to the court of Madrid
in the hope that his music would have some effect over the hypochondriac
Philip.[l]
_The Singer Farinelli_
Carlo Broschi, surnamed Farinelli, was a Neapolitan, whose voice and
skill had obtained him great musical renown, and enabled him to amass
a handsome fortune upon the boards of the London opera-house. During
one of Philip’s worst fits of hypochondria, Elizabeth Farnese invited
Farinelli to Madrid, in order to try the effect of exquisite music upon
her husband’s obstinate melancholy. The result answered to her utmost
hopes. She arranged a concert in a room adjoining that where Philip had
for months lain in bed, pertinaciously resisting every entreaty to
attend either to the business of his kingdom or the cleanliness of his
person. Farinelli’s vocal powers aroused him. He sent for the performer,
and amidst a profusion of encomiums, promised to grant him whatever
reward he should ask. Whereupon Farinelli, by the queen’s instructions,
requested the king to rise from his bed, undergo the usual operations of
shaving and dressing, and attend the council of state. Faithful to his
word, Philip complied, and returned for a while to his ordinary habits of
life. From that moment Farinelli was retained, with a handsome pension,
at Philip’s court, and daily soothed the half insane monarch with his
melodious warblings.
[Sidenote: [1737-1759 A.D.]]
Upon Ferdinand’s accession this favour rose to unexampled height.
Farinelli, besides being appointed director of the opera, and, in fact,
superintendent of all the royal pleasures, was honoured with the cross of
Calatrava.
Farinelli seems never to have forgotten himself in this singular
exaltation. He rejected all bribes, laughed at the adulation of his
superiors, and long answered to those who besought his interference, “I
am a musician, not a politician.” In spite of his modesty, however, he at
length became a political agent, having discovered that his intervention
was, upon many occasions, agreeable and convenient to Barbara. The
influence he was thence forward led to exert acted in two opposite
directions from the honest feelings of his heart, as did Barbara’s from
the dictates of her policy: his warm attachment to the empress-queen,
whose subject he was born, and to England, where he had acquired his
wealth, rendering him a zealous advocate of their interests, whilst
friendship for Ensenada induced him, if not to assist in forwarding all
that minister’s plans, yet to make the utmost exertions to support him in
his place.[n] By what strange instruments are mankind governed![104]
The reign of Ferdinand exhibits little more than a contest between the
British and French agents, in support of the respective policy of their
nations: Carvajal took part with the former, Ensenada with the latter.
In 1754, Carvajal’s death dejected the English as much as it elated the
hopes of the French. Soon afterwards, Ensenada himself was disgraced.
Ferdinand continued to observe a wise and dignified neutrality in the
European war, occasioned by the rivalry of France and England. Not even
the offer of Minorca, which the French conquered from the English, nor
that of assisting in the reduction of Gibraltar, could incline the
court in favour of the Gallic policy. Equally fruitless was the offer
of Gibraltar by the English themselves, as the condition of joining the
confederacy against France. But so mild, and just, and virtuous a prince
was not long spared to Spain and to Europe. After the death of his queen,
in 1758, he would never attend to either affairs of state or the ordinary
enjoyments of life: in twelve months he followed her to the tomb. As he
died without issue, he left the crown to his next brother, Don Charles,
king of the Two Sicilies.
Indolent as were the habits of Ferdinand, he was a blessing to Spain,
not merely from his pacific reign, but from his encouragement of
agriculture, commerce, and the arts.[105] But the greatest benefit he
procured for his country was the abolition of the grievous abuse of
papal patronage. By it the chair of St. Peter had nominated to all
benefices which fell vacant during eight months out of the twelve--thence
called apostolical--and in any month, provided the possessor died in
Rome. This monstrous usurpation was independent of expectations, indults,
annats, fifteenths, and the other endless sources of papal rapacity. In
1753, the king procured from the pope a concordat, by which the right
of nomination, during every month, was reserved to the crown; and the
tributes contracted to be paid by the holder of the benefice to the see
of Rome, in return for his nomination to it, were suppressed.
CHARLES III (1759-1788 A.D.)
[Sidenote: [1759-1762 A.D.]]
By the Treaty of Vienna the two crowns of Naples and Spain were never
to be placed on the same head: hence Charles III, on his accession to
the latter, was compelled to resign the other in favour of a son. As the
eldest, Philip, was a constant prey to mental imbecility, the second,
Charles, succeeded to the rights of primogeniture, and was declared heir
to the Spanish monarchy; while the third, Ferdinand, was hailed as king
of the Two Sicilies. Having appointed a council of regency during the
minority of Ferdinand, Charles bade adieu to his former subjects, whom
his administration had strongly attached to his person, and proceeded to
Madrid. In the ministry he made few changes. He retained General Wall,
but suffered Ensenada to return to court; he dismissed the minister of
finance, whom he replaced by the marquis Squillaci [called Esquilache by
the Spaniards], an Italian nobleman of considerable experience in that
department; and he advised Farinelli to quit the kingdom.
When Charles ascended the throne, he found France and Great Britain
involved in a war which, under the vigorous administration of Pitt,
was highly disastrous to the arms of Louis. The success of the English
displeased him; he feared lest the victors should turn their arms against
his richest settlements in the New World. France was eager to make common
cause with him. The result was an intimate alliance, known by the name
of the Family Compact, by which the enemy of either was to be considered
the enemy of both, and neither was to make peace without the consent of
the other. However secret the articles, they were suspected by Pitt,
who would have anticipated Spain by an immediate declaration of war,
and by breaking off the hollow negotiations which, to gain time, France
had commenced, had he not been replaced at this juncture by a court
favourite, the earl of Bute. The new ministry were made the dupes of
the Bourbon courts; the negotiations were artfully prolonged until the
arrival of the Spanish treasures from the Indies, and until preparations
were made by both countries to carry on the war with vigour.
[Sidenote: [1762-1781 A.D.]]
The mask was then dropped, and hostilities were invited. However
unstable the English ministry, under a sovereign more feeble even than
his predecessors, a vigour had been given by Pitt to every branch of
the public service, which in the present war secured the triumph of
English arms. In the West Indies, the Havana, in the east, Manila, were
taken (1762); nor were the allied French and Spanish arms successful
in Portugal, which, in punishment of its connection with England, was
invaded by twenty-two thousand men, under the marquis of Soria. They
could only take Almeida before they were compelled to retire within the
Spanish territory. Worse than all other disasters was the state of the
finances, which were, in fact, exhausted; while the interruption to
trade, occasioned by the present hostilities, rendered it impossible
for any minister to rely on new contributions. In this emergency, the
two courts turned their eyes towards peace, which was concluded at
Paris, February 10th, 1763. Omitting the concessions made by France,
Spain purchased the restoration of the conquests which had been made,
by the cession of Florida, by the permission to cut logwood in the bay
of Honduras, and by a renunciation of all claim to the Newfoundland
fisheries.
These unfavourable conditions were not likely to remove, however it
might be prudent to smother, the irritation of the Spaniards. But such,
at length, were the improvements effected in the collection of the
revenues, and in the national forces by sea and land; such the results
of a wise economy and a better discipline, under the superintendence of
the count of Aranda, a man of enterprising genius, that these forces were
considerably augmented, and taught to confide in their own strength. The
British ambassadors at Madrid were no longer treated with even outward
respect. That Spain was inclined to war is evident from the whole conduct
of its ministers; but the desire was counteracted by the internal
embarrassments of France. Thus affairs continued, until the count of
Aranda being succeeded by the marquis of Grimaldi, and the latter, in
his turn, by the count of Florida-Blanca, England received another blow
through her ally Portugal. Portugal, the queen-dowager of which was the
sister of Charles, joined the Family Compact.
The progress of the misunderstanding between England and her American
colonies (1776-1783) afforded an opening for humbling her power. By
entering into an alliance with the rebels, and by an open war with
Britain, France at once indulged her hereditary enmity, and secured a
friend in the rising states. With a policy as blind as it was vindictive,
Florida-Blanca persuaded Charles to concur with France in behalf of
the revolted colonies. Charles declared war, procured the co-operation
of a French fleet, and caused Gibraltar to be closely invested. The
situation of England, at this time, was exceedingly critical. By all
Europe her ruin was considered at hand. Without an ally; opposed not
only to her colonies, but to France and Spain, which were favoured by
the secret wishes of Portugal, Morocco, Holland, Russia, and Austria;
a prey to intestine commotions; cursed by an imbecile and extravagant
court, and by a ministry no less despicable, her prospects were indeed
hopeless. But the native vigour of her defenders, though it could not
avert disasters unexampled in her history, and was in most instances
lamentably misdirected, at least averted impending ruin. Gibraltar,
though garrisoned with no more than a handful of men, exhibited a defence
which astonished all Europe; and, though the coasts of England were
frequently insulted by the appearance of a hostile flag, no descent
followed. These fleets were not long suffered to exhibit even these
ineffectual bravadoes. Having retired to the peninsular ports, one of
them was defeated by Admiral Rodney, who about the same time had the
good fortune to capture a convoy of fifteen sail. But the capture of a
British merchant fleet by the enemy; the loss of some settlements in
the West Indies and on the banks of the Mississippi, and the conquest
of West Florida by Galvez, an enterprising Spanish officer, more than
counterbalanced this advantage.
These disasters would have been much greater, had not the English cabinet
contrived to spread division between the two allied powers. The offer
of Gibraltar--an offer made with anything but sincerity--more than once
arrested the hostile march of Spain, and led to secret negotiations.
Florida-Blanca had, however, the good fortune to propose the famous
armed neutrality, by which the maritime power of Europe endeavoured to
annihilate the naval superiority of Britain; and he had the still greater
glory of recovering Minorca [February, 1782, after seventy-four years
of English possession]. Elated by this success the Bourbon ministers
despatched a formidable fleet to expel the English from the West
Indies, whilst their allies the Dutch, in concert with Hyder (Haidar)
Ali, strove to drive the same enemy from the Carnatic. But the French
admiral De Grasse sustained so signal a defeat that the enterprise, as
far as regarded the West Indies, was abandoned. To England, however,
the war was fatal: the American colonies obtained their independence.
Humbled and discouraged, the ministry now made propositions for peace;
and negotiations for the purpose were opened at Paris. It was at length
concluded (1783) on terms sufficiently humiliating to the British
nation. She surrendered the two Floridas, Minorca, Tobago, and Gorée on
the African coast, consented to be excluded from the greater part of
the Gulf of Mexico, and to admit the French to a participation of the
Newfoundland fisheries: while, in return for such concessions, she could
not obtain the slightest advantage for regulating her trade either with
the peninsula or the American colonies.
Advantageous as were the conditions of peace, Charles, when his
resentment towards England was cooled, could not fail to perceive the
impolicy of the recent war. He had assisted to establish a republic on
the confines of his Mexican empire, and he knew that his own colonies
had caught the same fire of independence. In fact, he had soon the
mortification to see extensive districts in South America in open
insurrection.
The remaining foreign transactions of Charles may be shortly dismissed.
His treaty with the sultan of Constantinople and with the Barbary states
freed his subjects from piratical depredations, and procured them
commercial advantages in the Mediterranean superior to those enjoyed
by any other European power. In Portugal, where his influence was
confirmed by the marriage of his daughter Carlotta with the infante João,
afterwards João IV, he procured from the French a share in the commercial
advantages which had been hitherto exclusively enjoyed by the English.
In an equal degree was the English influence impaired in Holland by the
ascendency of the Bourbon courts. He wrested from the ministry most of
the commercial privileges which during two centuries had been possessed
by the British in the West Indies. But as he grew in years he became less
favourably disposed towards France, and more willing to cultivate a good
understanding with England.
[Sidenote: [1759-1783 A.D.]]
The internal administration of Charles was not less signal than his
foreign policy. It exhibits many novelties; of which some were highly
beneficial, while others were odious to the people. So long as the
efforts of his ministers were confined to the improvement of commerce and
agriculture, to cleansing and lighting the streets, to the construction
and repairs of the roads, to the reorganisation of the police, and to the
amplification of the public revenues, they were cheered by the popular
approbation; but when flapped hats and long cloaks--those screeners of
assassination--were prohibited, a loud outcry was raised against the
introduction of foreign customs. A monopoly for the supply of oil and
bread to the people of Madrid bore on the lower orders much more sensibly
than a change of costume, and called forth loud imprecations against
the marquis Squillaci, the author of this impolitic innovation. On the
evening of Palm Sunday (1766) the mob arose. They spread throughout the
city, breaking the lamps, assassinating the soldiers, and forcing every
man they saw to lower the brim of his hat. The following morning the king
communicated with them; promised that the obnoxious minister should be
replaced by a Spaniard; that the decree against flapped hats and cloaks
should be repealed; that the price of oil, bread, soap, and bacon should
be reduced, the monopoly destroyed, and the insurgents pardoned.
The following morning, however, hearing that the royal family and the
ministers had fled to Aranjuez, they assembled in greater numbers than
before. During forty-eight hours the city was a prey to this lawless
mob. Charles wrote to the Council of Castile that the obnoxious minister
was already exiled, and that, if the people would quietly disperse, his
other promises should be executed with equal fidelity. The message, being
proclaimed throughout the city, was received with shouts of applause; the
rioters instantly surrendered their arms and drums, shook hands with the
soldiers, and departed to their homes.
That this commotion was a political intrigue was no less the conviction
of the king than of his ministers; and his suspicions fell on the
Jesuits.[l]
EXPULSION OF THE JESUITS
[Sidenote: [1759-1767 A.D.]]
It is unnecessary to trace here the rise and progress of this celebrated
order whose position in history has been such a peculiar one. It will be
sufficient to observe that their spirit of intrigue, dangerous maxims,
bond of union, and persevering ambition had long rendered them an object
of fear and jealousy to many of the European governments; and there
was scarcely a political intrigue, or public commotion, in which they
were not actually implicated, or supposed to be engaged. Such, however,
was their extensive influence, from the number and talents of their
members, and the authority which they exercised over the public mind,
by monopolising, in a great degree, the duties of education; such also
was their influence in the cabinets of Catholic princes, as directors of
their consciences, and such the wealth and power they had appropriated,
that till the middle of the eighteenth century no statesman had been
found bold enough to smite this spiritual colossus. The first blow was
struck in the petty kingdom of Portugal, by the marquis of Pombal, the
minister of a weak and superstitious monarch, whose court and household
were filled by their members and adherents.
From a suspicion, well or ill founded, that they were implicated in
the memorable attempt to assassinate the king, they were in a single
day involved in one common disgrace, their property confiscated, their
members transported as prisoners to the coast of Italy and set ashore in
the states of the church. Their expulsion from Portugal (1759) dissipated
the terror inspired by their name and power, and prepared the way for
their expulsion from France, which took place in 1764, with circumstances
of more humanity and moderation than in Portugal.
It now became the leading principle of the French minister to complete
their downfall in other countries, and particularly to obtain their
expulsion from Spain. For this purpose, Choiseul employed all the
resources of intrigue to excite alarm at their character and principles,
and implicate them in every offence which was likely to throw disgrace on
their body. He did not scruple even to circulate forged letters, in the
name of their general and chiefs, and to propagate reports of the most
odious and criminal nature against the members themselves individually.
These artifices and this anxiety will not appear superfluous, when
it is considered that Spain was the country which gave rise to the
institution, and fostered it with peculiar affection; that the king, a
devout prince, had shown himself its friend and protector. The final
cause which led to their expulsion was the success of the means employed
to persuade the king that their intrigues had caused the recent tumult
at Madrid, and that they were still forming new machinations against his
own person and the royal family. Influenced by this opinion, Charles,
from their zealous protector, became at once their implacable enemy, and
hastened to follow the example of the French government (1767).
[Sidenote: [1767-1783 A.D.]]
He confided the execution to Count de Aranda, who had so ably suppressed
the commotions at Madrid. The king himself wrote, and directed with his
own hand, circular letters to the governors of each province, which they
were to open at a particular hour and in a particular place. When the
period arrived, the six colleges of the Jesuits at Madrid were surrounded
at midnight with troops, headed by officers of the police, and admission
being obtained, the bells were secured, and a sentinel placed at the door
of each cell. The rector was commanded to assemble the community; and
the different members being collected in the refectory, the royal decree
of expulsion was formally read. Each member was then permitted to take
his breviary, linen, chocolate, snuff, a few other conveniences, and
his money, on specifying the amount in writing. They were distributed
in different vehicles, each carriage under the escort of two dragoons,
to prevent any communication, and were thus conveyed to the coast.
So complete were the precautions, and so prompt and regular was the
execution, that the inhabitants of the capital were ignorant of the event
till the following morning, when the cavalcade was already on its journey.
In the same manner each college, in the different parts of Spain, was
invested. The transports, under the convoy of several frigates, steered
for the ecclesiastical state, and appeared off Cività Vecchia, where the
different officers had orders to land their unfortunate charge. But the
pope forbade their admission, under the pretext that, if the Catholic
sovereigns of Europe should abolish the religious societies, the papal
dominions would be too small, and the treasure too poor to maintain them.
During these delays, the Jesuits were crowded like convicts on board the
transports, in the most sultry season of a sultry climate; and of the
old and infirm, or those who had suffered from their sedentary life,
numbers perished within sight of land. At length, after beating about the
Mediterranean, exposed to storms and tempests for three months, they were
received on the isle of Corsica; those who had the misfortune to survive
preceding hardships were deposited in warehouses like bales of goods,
without beds, and almost without the common necessaries of life. They
remained in this deplorable situation, till their destiny was fixed by a
compromise with the pope, when they were permitted to repair to Italy,
and receive the scanty pittance allotted for their maintenance by the
king of Spain. In the distant and extensive colonies of South America,
similar precautions were adopted.
On considering this transaction with impartiality, it is impossible
to deny that, however necessary the expulsion of the Jesuits might be
deemed, yet the execution itself was one of the most arbitrary and cruel
measures ever held out to the indignation of mankind. No other reason
was alleged for these rigorous measures than the absolute good pleasure
of the king. In this state of proscription they were not only prohibited
from justifying their conduct, but it was ordained that if one single
Jesuit should send forth the slightest apology in their favour, the
pensions of all should instantly cease, and that all subjects of Spain
who should presume to publish any writing, either for or against them,
should be punished as if guilty of high treason: circumstances which
can scarcely be credited in a free nation, if the truth were not still
attested by the edict for their expulsion. The only apology which can be
advanced in favour of such a cruel measure is that, the whole body being
closely linked together in absolute obedience to their general, no one
member could presume to publish anything without the approbation of his
superior; and such was their mighty influence over the consciences of
persons of all ranks and descriptions that, if any had been permitted to
continue in Spain, or to return thither while the ferment subsisted, they
might have excited dangerous tumults among the people.
Charles notified this important measure to the head of the church in
firm but respectful terms. It was not to be expected that the pope would
acquiesce in so sudden and unqualified an expulsion of the most zealous
partisans of the holy see, and still less so bold and irritable a pontiff
as Clement XIII. The reply of the king announced respect and affection
for the head of the church, but unshaken firmness in his resolution.
The example of Spain was speedily followed by the king of Naples. The
Jesuits were expelled with the same precautions as in Spain, and conveyed
without ceremony across the frontier into the ecclesiastical state. When
a petty sovereign like the duke of Parma ventured to expel the Jesuits
from his states, and establish various regulations to restrain the
papal authority, Clement deemed it a proper opportunity to exercise his
spiritual power, without the danger of a repulse. He therefore issued a
brief against the duke, threatening his territories with interdict, and
his person with excommunication, unless he revoked his ordinances against
the privileges and rights of the church.
The princes of the house of Bourbon, watchful for an opportunity to
abridge the pretensions of the Roman see, accordingly opposed this
exertion of papal authority with the most vigorous measures. France
occupied Avignon and the Venaissin, and Naples seized Benevento; and all
the Catholic powers united in a common censure of the papal brief as
illegal and vindictive. But while the dispute was yet in suspense, the
decease of the aged pontiff opened a field for the struggle of the civil
against the ecclesiastical power. No intrigue was spared by the Catholic
powers to baffle the influence of the Jesuits, and obtain the election of
a person who would enter into their views; and they at length procured
the choice of Ganganelli, a monk of the order of Minor Conventuals. He
ultimately yielded to the incessant and pressing solicitations of all
the Catholic powers; and on the 21st of July, 1773, abolished the order
of Jesus by a bull, in which he ascribes his consent to respect for the
representations of the king of Spain, who insisted on this measure as
necessary for the tranquillity of Christendom and the peace of his own
dominions.
Charles, satisfied with having annihilated the power of the Jesuits,
secured the tranquillity of his dominions, and eradicated their influence
as a body, reverted to his natural mildness, and by a royal rescript
permitted the members who yet survived to return to Spain, and obtain
possession of lands which had fallen to them by inheritance (1783).[c]
[Sidenote: [1783-1788 A.D.]]
It is almost needless to add that, in the present, as in the case of the
Templars, and at a later period in that of the suppressed monasteries in
England, a very small portion of the possessions so unjustly confiscated
was applied to any useful purpose; in Spain, as in England, it found its
way into the pockets of a needy sovereign, of courtly minions, or of
unprincipled adventurers.
In most respects, the internal administration of Charles was one of
unmixed good. The increase of the standing army, a force absolutely
necessary, not merely for the national defence, but for the preservation
of domestic tranquillity; its improved discipline; a judicious
organisation of the police; the restriction of ecclesiastical immunities
in such cases as were incompatible with the well-being of the people;
the circumscription of the powers of the Inquisition; an attempt to
colonise the Sierra Morena; the establishment of schools to supply the
void left by the expulsion of the Jesuits, signalised the administration
of the count of Aranda. The same reforms were extended or improved by the
count of Florida-Blanca, who added others of even superior importance.
The encouragement of agriculture, commerce, and the useful arts of
life; a radical change in the intercourse of Spain with her colonies; a
considerable augmentation in the returns of the mines, in the customs, in
every branch of the revenue; the introduction of new manufactures, and
the encouragement of such as were already established; the facilitation
of intercourse, by means of new roads and canals, between the great
marts of Spain; and numerous reforms in the forms of judicial process,
and in the responsibility of the judges, were a few of the many benefits
conferred by this great minister on his country.
Charles III died, December 14th, 1788, at the age of seventy-three. From
the vigour of his constitution he would, doubtless, have lived longer,
had not his heart been affected by the precarious state of his relations
in France, by the loss of his son Don Gabriel, of his daughter-in-law
Doña Maria of Portugal, and of their infant. He was a prince of
considerable talents, of excellent intentions, and of blameless morals.
In his public character, his best praise is to be found in the fact that,
through his ministers, he introduced a degree of prosperity to which his
people had been strangers since the days of Philip II. In private life
he was unlike most kings. During a long widowhood, his example afforded
no encouragement to licentiousness: as he was severe towards himself, he
was naturally so toward others. His chief defects were obstinacy, too
great reserve, even with his ministers, and an immoderate addiction to
the exercise of hunting. By his queen Amelia, a princess of Saxony, he
left issue (1) Philip Pascal, excluded through natural imbecility; (2)
Charles his successor, imprisoned and forced to abdicate by Bonaparte;
(3) Ferdinand, king of the Two Sicilies. Four other sons preceded him to
the tomb.[l]
Hume[h] calls Charles III “the only good, great, and patriotic king that
providence had vouchsafed to Spain in modern times.” Coxe[c] tells of his
placid temper, and his lovableness; “those who attended on his infancy
grew gray, or died in his service.” The anecdote is told of him that on
his death-bed his confessor asked if he could pardon his enemies, and he
answered; “Why should I have waited till this extremity? They were all
forgiven the moment after the offence”--a spirit rare indeed in Spanish
history.[a]
FOOTNOTES
[97] [“Henceforward for years, during the most troublous crisis of
Spain’s fall, she did more for the country and for the young king and
queen than all the ministers together. Manners and morals were reformed,
light and brightness penetrated where gloom and ignorance alone had
existed before. A Frenchwoman sent specially to serve French interests,
she stood firm in defence of Philip and his wife, and of Spanish
traditions, when everything depended on her prudence.”--HUME.[d]]
[98] [“Here they committed the most enormous sacrileges, adding the rage
of enemies to that of heretics,” says San Felipe.[b]]
[99] [“After thirteen years of struggle, the most obstinate and deadly
in the modern history of Europe, Catalonia was brought back to the
fold, shorn of all her privileges and assimilated to the contemned
Castile.”--HUME.[h]]
[100] [“And so at last, after years of constant plotting and secret
treaties innumerable, Elizabeth Farnese had triumphed in the great
object of her life: all Europe accepted the sovereignty of her son
over the Italian dominions of her forefathers. She had kept Europe in
effervescence for years, but she had her way; and the persistence of one
woman had re-established Spanish influence in Italy and raised Spain once
more to a leading place in the councils of the world.”--HUME.[h]]
[101] [The importance of this “right of search” will recur in connection
with the War of 1812 between England and the United States. The war
hereafter described is sometimes called “The War of Jenkins’ Ear.”]
[102] [“At Piacenza the Franco-Spanish army was literally cut to bits by
Lichtenstein (July 16th, 1746), and the ambitious dreams of Elizabeth
Farnese seemed to melt into thin air.”--HUME.[h] Fuller details of this
war will be found in the French, Austrian, and English histories.]
[103] [_En se nada_, that is, “in himself nothing,” referring to his
humble origin.]
[104] [Was it not time, after the disastrous influences of cardinals,
monks, warriors, merchants, and noblemen had been tormenting Spain
for centuries, that a musician should be tried? Are not the eminently
beneficial results of the singer’s influence over the benevolent king his
justification?]
[105] [Martin Hume[d] calls Ferdinand VI “the most truly beneficent
sovereign that Spain had known for centuries. The encouragement
extended to learning and intellectual progress was even more marked
than that given by his father. Academies and learned societies sprang
up everywhere;” and again,[h] “Ferdinand had found Spain struggling
painfully to the light, still ruined, bankrupt, and miserable. He left it
enjoying comparative prosperity, with a fleet of fifty ships of war and
£3,000,000 ($15,000,000) in the treasury.”]
[Illustration]