Transcriber's note: Italic font is indicated by _underscores_.
THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE
COURT OF SPAIN
[Illustration: ALFONSO XIII. AND VICTORIA EUGÉNIE, KING AND QUEEN OF
SPAIN
_Frontispiece_
]
THE SECRET HISTORY OF
THE COURT OF SPAIN
DURING THE LAST CENTURY
BY
RACHEL CHALLICE
WITH THIRTY ILLUSTRATIONS
NEW YORK
D. APPLETON & COMPANY
MCMIX
AUTHOR’S NOTE
In presenting this history to the British public, I must draw attention
to the fact that the material is gathered solely from Spanish sources,
so that where the statements do not tally with the reports of English
historians it must be remembered that the book, as the mouthpiece
of Spanish writers, may lay claim to a special interest of its own,
particularly as some of these books are not known in our country.
Thus, the account of the character of Ferdinand VII., the story of the
Second of May, 1808, the relations between England and Spain during the
reign of Isabella II., and the account of the recent Regency of Maria
Cristina, may open points of view not generally entertained in England,
but the fact of their sources may entitle them to some attention.
The history of the Regency ending in 1902, by Ortega Rubio, was only
published last year, and it was as a privileged reader of the library
of the Royal Palace at Madrid that I studied it. The book referred
to by Galdos has also only recently seen the light. I owe much of
the information to the celebrated bibliophile, Don Fernando Bremon,
who garnered it for me from many histories now out of print and
from manuscripts which came into his hand from his connection with
celebrities of the Spanish Court. Other sources of information were
open to me at the valuable library of the Athenæum at Madrid, of which
I was made an honorary member during my stay in the capital; and I have
also to render tribute to those whose personal recollections have added
to the interest of my survey of Court life during the last century.
RACHEL CHALLICE.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. INTRIGUES OF FERDINAND, PRINCE OF ASTURIAS,
AGAINST HIS PARENTS AND GODOY 1
II. THE OVERTHROW OF GODOY 24
III. HOW NAPOLEON I. CHECKMATED THE SPANISH
ROYAL FAMILY 53
IV. KING FERDINAND VII. AND HIS HOME LIFE 79
V. MARIA CRISTINA, FERDINAND’S FOURTH WIFE--INTRIGUES
AT COURT 105
VI. MARIA CRISTINA AS REGENT AND AS WIFE OF
MUÑOZ 122
VII. QUEEN ISABELLA’S GIRLHOOD AND THE DANGERS
WHICH BESET IT 142
VIII. MINISTERIAL DIFFICULTIES IN THE PALACE 149
IX. ROYAL MATRIMONIAL SCHEMES--HOW QUEEN
ISABELLA’S SISTER FLED FROM PARIS IN 1848 161
X. A ROYAL QUARREL AND THE RECONCILIATION 173
XI. ATTEMPT ON THE LIFE OF QUEEN ISABELLA--THE
OVERTHROW OF THE QUEEN-MOTHER, MARIA
CRISTINA 180
XII. COURT INTRIGUES 193
XIII. THE COURT OF SPAIN UNDER ITALIAN SWAY 224
XIV. SOME TRUTHS ABOUT THE REPUBLIC OF 1873-1874 242
XV. THE REVIVAL OF COURT LIFE IN SPAIN UNDER
ALFONSO XII. 252
XVI. THE PALACE AND POLITICS DURING THE REGENCY
OF QUEEN MARIA CRISTINA 281
XVII. ALFONSO XIII. 305
XVIII. PRINCESS VICTORIA EUGÉNIE OF BATTENBERG AS
QUEEN OF SPAIN 314
INDEX 345
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
ALFONSO XIII. AND QUEEN VICTORIA OF SPAIN _frontispiece_
From a photograph by Franzen, Madrid.
TO FACE PAGE
MARIA LUISA, QUEEN OF CHARLES IV. 8
From the painting by Goya in the Museo del Prado.
MARIA ANTONIA, PRINCESS OF ASTURIAS, FIRST WIFE
OF FERDINAND VII. 34
From an engraving.
MARIA ISABEL FRANCISCA OF BRAGANZA, SECOND WIFE
OF FERDINAND VII. 84
From an engraving.
MARIA JOSEFA AMALIA, THIRD WIFE OF FERDINAND VII. 92
From an engraving.
MARIA CRISTINA, FOURTH WIFE OF FERDINAND VII.
AND MOTHER OF ISABELLA II. 106
From an original painting.
DON CARLOS DE BOURBON, DUKE OF MADRID 112
From a photograph.
MARSHAL PRIM 122
From an engraving.
GENERAL ESPARTERO, PRINCE OF VERGARA 128
From a painting by Casado del Alisal.
MARSHAL LEOPOLDO O’DONNELL, DUKE OF TETUAN 138
From an engraving.
RECEPTION OF ISABELLA II. AT THE ESCORIAL 150
From a painting by Benjumea.
ISABELLA II., QUEEN OF SPAIN 162
From a painting by Madrazo.
THE COUNCIL OF MINISTERS OF ISABELLA II. DECLARES
WAR AGAINST MOROCCO 184
From a painting by Benjumea.
GENERAL NARVAEZ 214
From a photograph.
EMILIO CASTELAR 224
From a photograph.
AMADEUS OF SAVOY, DUKE OF AOSTA, AFTERWARDS
KING OF SPAIN 226
From a photograph by J. Laurent, Madrid.
LIEUTENANT-COLONEL LUIS DE FIGUEROLA FERRETTI 242
From a painting by Miss A. J. Challice, exhibited at the Royal
Academy, London.
KING ALFONSO XII. VISITING CHOLERA PATIENTS AT
ARANJUEZ 252
From a painting by J. Bermudo y Mateos.
DON CARLOS, PRINCE OF ASTURIAS, AND HIS LATE
WIFE, THE INFANTA MERCEDES 266
From a photograph by Franzen, Madrid.
PRAXEDES MATEO SAGASTA, LIBERAL PRIME MINISTER 274
From a photograph.
DEATH OF ALFONSO XII. 276
From a painting by J. A. Benlliure y Gil.
ANTONIO CANOVAS DEL CASTILLO, CONSERVATIVE PRIME
MINISTER 292
From a photograph.
THE INFANTA MARIA TERESA AND KING ALFONSO XIII. 294
From a photograph by Debas, Madrid.
ALFONSO XIII., KING OF SPAIN 306
From a photograph by Franzen, Madrid.
THE QUEEN-MOTHER MARIA CRISTINA OF SPAIN 310
From a photograph by Debas, Madrid.
VICTORIA EUGÉNIE, QUEEN OF SPAIN 314
From a photograph by J. Beagles and Co.
QUEEN VICTORIA OF SPAIN AND THE QUEEN-MOTHER
AT A BULL-FIGHT 316
From a photograph.
PRINCE FERDINAND OF BAVARIA, BROTHER-IN-LAW OF
ALFONSO XIII. 318
From a photograph by Baumann, Münich.
THE INFANTA MARIA TERESA, AFTERWARDS WIFE OF
PRINCE FERDINAND OF BAVARIA 320
From a photograph by Franzen, Madrid.
CHRISTENING OF THE PRINCE OF ASTURIAS, SON OF
ALFONSO XIII. 338
CARLOS III. = Maria Amalia of Saxony (daughter of
| Augustus III., King of Poland)
|
Several children, of whom
the second son was CARLOS IV. = Maria Luisa of Parma
| (his cousin)
+------------------------------+--------+-------+
| | |
FERNANDO VII. Don Carlos = MF FP = Luisa Carlota
= 1. Maria Antonia of Naples | | of Naples
= 2. Isabel of Braganza | |
= 3. MJA +-------++ |
= 4. MCN | | FA = ISABELLA II.
| DCM Don Juan = PM (his cousin)
| |
+--+-----------------------------+ Don Carlos (now living)
| |
ISABELLA II. = FA (her MLF = Duke of Montpensier
| cousin) |
| +--+-----------------+
| | |
| Mcd = ALFONSO XII. A = Eulalia
| (her cousin) (see below)
|
+----------+-----+--------------------+-----+------------+
| | | | |
Isabel = CG ALFONSO XII. = (1) Mcd P DP = LF Eulalia = A
| (2) MCA | |
| | |
+--------------+-------+-------+ +--------+ +--------+--+
| | | | | |
MM = CB ALFONSO XIII. = VE MT = Fernando Alfonso Fernando
(Infante)
Key
===
A = Antonio (son of Duke of Montpensier)
CB = Carlos de Bourbon
CG = Count of Girgenti
DCM = Don Carlos, Count of Montemolin
DP = De la Paz
FA = Francisco de Asis
FP = Francisco de Paula
LF = Luis Ferdinand of Bavaria
MCA = Maria Cristina of Austria
MCN = Maria Cristina of Naples
(sister of Luisa Carlota and of Princess of Beira)
Mcd = Mercedes (cousin to Alfonso XII.)
MF = Maria Francisca of Portugal (sister of Isabel of Braganza)
MJA = Maria Josefa Amalia of Saxony
MLF = Maria Luisa Fernanda
MM = Maria de las Mercedes (Princess of Asturias)
MT = Maria Teresa
P = Pilar (Infanta)
PM = Princess of Modena
VE = Victoria Eugénie of Battenberg
INFORMATION DRAWN FROM
A three-volume History of Ferdinand VII., published 1843, with the
original correspondence of Napoleon and Bourbon family as Appendix.
“Memorias de un Setenton” (septuagenarian), by Ramon Mesoneros Romanos.
1880.
“Estafeta del Palacio Real,” by Bermejo. 3 large vols.
Unpublished MSS., the property of Don Fernando Bremon, brother-in-law
to the Marchioness of Salamanca, the lady-in-waiting of the present
Prince of Asturias.
“Memorias de Don Antonio Alcalá Galiano.” 1886.
“La de Los Tristes Destinos,” Perez Galdos. 1907.
Rare old book: “Narracion de Don Juan Van Halem.”
“Regencia de Maria Cristina,” by Juan Ortega Rubio. 1907. 2 large
vols.
THE SECRET HISTORY
OF THE COURT OF SPAIN IN THE
NINETEENTH CENTURY
CHAPTER I
INTRIGUES OF FERDINAND, PRINCE OF ASTURIAS, AGAINST HIS PARENTS AND
GODOY
1800-1804
The history of Spain during the nineteenth century is synonymous with
that of favourites at the Court of Madrid, for as the country, in spite
of all its struggles, had practically no voice in the election of the
Parliaments, the main events of the land had their rise in the royal
palace, where self-interested persons blinded the eyes of the rulers
for their own purposes.
Thus the fall of Spain into the hands of the French evidently resulted
from the dissensions of those environing the Royal Family, and the
hopes entertained by the optimistic Spaniards at the return of
Ferdinand VII. were destroyed by the flattering courtiers encouraging
the Sovereign in his despotic ideas.
The evils of the reign of Isabel II., and the revolution and republic
which followed, can all be traced to the same intriguing spirit of
the Court, and from the death of Charles III., who is still spoken
of as the “great Charles,” the government of the country was, in
reality, in the invisible hands of those who ruled the Sovereign;
and hence the disastrous influence exercised in the land by Queen
Maria Luisa, whose feeble, good-natured consort, Carlos IV., let her
pursue her self-willed course, whilst falling himself an easy prey to
the overweening ambition of Godoy, her favourite. This daughter of
Philip, Duke of Parma, had shown from her childhood signs of great
intelligence, and her education had given full scope for her talents.
Without being absolutely beautiful, her features had a charm of their
own from their expression, and her fine eyes, elegant figure, and
pleasant manners, soon exercised a sway at the Court of Spain when she
made her appearance as the bride of the Prince of Asturias.
Albeit generous and warm-hearted, Maria Luisa was of a somewhat
arrogant disposition. This was seen when she was only twelve years old,
in the tone of superiority she adopted in her home after the contract
of her marriage to the heir of the Spanish throne had been signed.
Her brother Ferdinand resented this assumption of superiority, and
remonstrated with his sister on the subject. Upon this the Princess
promptly lost her temper, and said: “I will teach you to pay me the
attention which you owe me, because I shall finally be Queen of Spain,
whilst you will never be more than a little Duke of Parma!” “Well, the
Duke of Parma will have the honour of slapping the Queen of Spain,” was
the reply, and Ferdinand promptly gave his sister a slap in the face.
The Duke was then arrested by order of his father, and he was only
released at the plea of his sister, who was sorry when the quarrel
assumed such a serious aspect.
When crowned Queen of Spain, in 1789, as the wife of Charles IV.,
twenty-four years after her marriage, Maria Luisa soon showed that her
impulsive nature, which knew no check from her husband, would bring her
country to grief.
Captivated by the young Godoy, she surprised and alarmed the nation by
the swift way she exalted him to the highest position in the realm.
As the favourite had known how to dominate the will of the King, as
well as to subjugate the heart of the Queen, there was no limit to his
power, and when he was given the title of “The Prince of the Peace,”
for the alliance he made with the French, the animosity of the nation
was so much excited that public interest was soon centred in Prince
Ferdinand as one who might free the Court from the favourite, and thus
save the country from the disastrous effect of an undue submission to
France.
As Alcalá Galiano says in his “Memorias,” “The title of ‘Prince’
conferred on Godoy seemed to detract from the dignity of the Royal
Family.” The Prince of Asturias was at this time eleven years of age.
It must be remembered that the Queen had never gained any real hold
on her son’s love. She was naturally disinclined to any efforts
dictated by maternal love, and she had taken no pains to overcome the
constitutional defects of her son, which were repellent to her lively
imagination and quick temperament.
In a letter to the Grand Duke of Berg, the Prince is described by
the royal mother as peculiarly deficient in sensibility, and she
remarks that his torpid nerves indeed required strong stimulants for
their exercise. He spoke little, rarely smiled, and found a sardonic
satisfaction in all kinds of petty acts of cruelty. He liked to crush a
little bird if it fell into his hands, and, indeed, pity was a quality
to which he was a stranger.
As the education of the young Prince was entrusted to Don Juan
Escoiquiz, it was soon seen that he exercised a great power over the
royal pupil, and he sought to use him as an instrument for thwarting
the schemes of the Queen’s favourite--which boded ill for the land.
Escoiquiz was certainly clever. He had translated Young’s poems and
Milton’s “Paradise Lost,” and when he was summoned to the royal palace
in his capacity of tutor to the young Prince, he exclaimed: “I shall be
happy if my instruction of my royal pupil leads to his being the most
humane of Princes.”
However, time did not show that he guided the Prince in this direction,
for the intrigue of the Queen with Godoy so aroused his malicious envy
that his one idea was to instigate his pupil to courses tending to the
overthrow of the favourite. Classics and mathematics were foregone by
the cleric, who devoted the time to teaching the Prince that the one
great secret of a ruler was to trust nobody entirely, but to oppose one
man to another man and one party against the other.
This lesson of distrust the royal boy learnt to perfection, and as his
cold eyes watched his mother’s deceitful conduct, and he saw how easily
his father fell a prey to the artifice and design of the lovers, his
heart was a fruitful soil for the poisonous words of his preceptor.
Escoiquiz soon determined to use the lad more effectually as an
instrument against Godoy, and so he inspired him with the desire to
have a seat in the Cabinet Ministry, and he wrote discourses and
treatises which he gave the Prince to publish as his own, so that the
lad might pose as a statesman of a wisdom and foresight beyond his
years.
But although Carlos IV. was an easy tool for an unprincipled wife, he
was not inclined to fall a prey to the machinations of his son, and to
give his son a place that had been denied to himself at a like age; so
the artifice of the tutor was discovered, and he was dismissed from
Court with the appointment of Archdeacon of Alcaraz, in the Chapter of
Toledo.
But albeit banished from his post as tutor, the cleric still retained
his influence over the Prince, and he seized every opportunity of going
to the royal palace to foster the ideas which he had instilled in the
mind of his former pupil.
The picture given by Manuel Godoy in his “Mémoires” of the daily life
of the young royal people at this time shows that parental affection
played little part in the lives of the young Princes and Princesses.
After the morning Mass was over, the young people were allowed to
receive visits till half-past eleven, when they went to their parents’
room, and there remained till lunch-time, and each Infante and Infanta
had his or her meal in a separate apartment. The afternoon drive was
generally taken in the same direction every day, and the carriage was
accompanied by a royal guard. In the evening the Infantes and Infantas
spent half an hour with their parents, and then returned to their own
quarters, where they were sometimes allowed to have their friends.
Whenever the Infantes and Infantas went from one part of the palace
to another, they were accompanied by a _gentil hombre_, and they were
treated very much like State prisoners.
This monotonous life of the Royal Family was suddenly disturbed by
the Mission from the Court of France in which the proposal was made
by Napoleon to unite his brother Lucien in marriage with Isabel,
daughter of Carlos IV. The King was alarmed at the idea of such a close
connection with the warrior who treated Europe like a chess-board, but,
not wishing openly to refuse the powerful ruler, he promptly arranged
for the marriage of the Princess with his nephew, who was heir to the
throne of Naples, and he also made arrangements for the marriage of
Ferdinand with Princess Maria Antonia of Naples.
Godoy was strongly opposed to the Prince’s marriage, declaring that
eighteen was too tender an age for this step, and that it would be
better for the young man to improve his mind by travelling, and fit
himself for his future task of governing the nation before he married.
However, the King listened to the Marquis of Caballero, who was in
favour of the alliance, and the wedding of Ferdinand took place in
Barcelona in October, 1802, at the same time as that of his sister.
When Ferdinand subsequently heard how Godoy had tried to prevent his
marriage, he thought it was with a desire to prevent the succession
being established in his favour, and his hatred of the favourite
increased accordingly.
Godoy writes very emphatically in his “Mémoires” of the evil influence
exercised by Escoiquiz on the mind of Prince Ferdinand:
“The master seized upon the moral faculties of his pupil like an
unclean insect which sticks to the bud of a rose and stops the growth
by the web it weaves. Ferdinand, doomed at an early age to feel no
affection for anyone, was a prey to fear and dissimulation. His
youth, his manhood--in short, his whole life--was passed in a state
of uninterrupted suspicion. He did not believe in virtue, not even in
that of Escoiquiz, and at last the tutor received the due reward of the
instructions he had imparted to his pupil.
“He died, loaded with contempt, ejected and banished from his pupil.”
Godoy declared that his enemies paralyzed his endeavours to free Spain
from the dominion of the French. He writes in the same “Mémoires”:
“Determined to impose upon the young Prince that I wished to deprive
him of the natural affection of his august parents, my enemies so far
succeeded in alarming him that the Prince was brought to look upon me
as a dangerous rival who aspired to seat himself on the throne. To such
perfidious insinuations they added other indirect practices.
“They made Charles IV. tremble at the bare idea of a war with France,
when I had in September, 1806, firmly resolved upon proclaiming it.”
The account of Manuel Godoy’s last visit to the ex-Queen Maria Luisa is
characteristic of the devotion of the courtier:
“It was in May, 1808, that my old King, his august lady, and the young
infant Francisco, the unhappy victims of the iniquitous faction that
called Napoleon to interfere in the matters of Spain, were transported
from that country to France, and they remained in the dull, lonely
dwelling of Fontainebleau.
“The Queen, a stranger in the royal palace of her ancestors, was in a
grand bed. Her eyes were full of sadness but of majesty; her grave and
venerable face was stamped with virtue. As she was able to speak openly
without the presence of any importunate witnesses, she evidently wished
to give expression to her feelings when her eyes fell on those who were
with her, and she noted the tears which they vainly strove to stop. At
last she broke the silence, and said:
“‘And you (_tu_), Manuel, my loyal friend, from whom I have had so many
proofs that you would always remain so till the end--you will have your
customary patience and listen to what I have to say!’”
[Illustration: MARIA LUISA, QUEEN OF CHARLES IV.
After the Painting by Goya in the Museo del Prado]
And then the Queen once more poured into her friend’s ears her doubts
and fears as to her future and that of Charles IV.
From the time Maria Antonia of Naples married the eighteen-year-old
Prince of Asturias in 1802, she proved herself an active partisan
of her husband and his tutor Escoiquiz, and if she had lived longer
her clear-sightedness might have prevented the surrender of Spain to
Bonaparte.
In obedience to her mother, Queen Caroline of Naples, the Princess of
Asturias was unremitting in her efforts to contravert the plans of her
irreconcilable enemy Napoleon, which were subsequently furthered by
the short-sighted policy of Godoy and Maria Luisa. Secret and almost
daily were the letters which passed between Princess Maria Antonia and
Queen Caroline, and, as the correspondence was conducted in cipher, it
entered the Court of Naples without attracting any attention, and thus
many diplomatic secrets from Madrid travelled thence to England. In the
bitter warfare of personal hatred and political intrigue no accusations
were too bad to be levelled by one part of the Spanish Royal Family
against the other.
The partisans of the Prince and Princess of Asturias declared that
Godoy and Maria Luisa filled the King’s mind with suspicions against
Ferdinand, even to the point of attributing parricidal thoughts to
him, so that the King might disinherit him and put Godoy in his place.
And the followers of Godoy declared that the Princess of Asturias not
only had designs against the Prince of the Peace, but against the
Sovereigns themselves.
The secret correspondence between Queen Caroline and her daughter was
found years afterwards in the house of the Duke of Infantado, and
it showed the hatred of the Prince and his wife towards the Queen’s
favourite, whilst speaking of the King as if he already had one foot in
the grave. One of these letters to Naples was intercepted by Napoleon,
and it fully convinced him of the part played by Prince Ferdinand and
his wife with regard to France.
The people’s discontent with Godoy was fostered by Ferdinand’s
followers, and, indeed, the government of the turbulent country
required a more expert hand than that of the favourite.
The clergy were also enraged when they heard that the Minister had
received a Bull from Rome for the reform of the monastic institutions,
and they exalted Ferdinand to the sky as a patron and protector of the
altars, whilst they circulated exaggerated stories with regard to those
in power, and his mother was the chief object of these attacks.
When Queen Maria Luisa found the love which the people had formerly
professed for her and her husband was now turned into hatred, she said
that “Madrid was a place for good Princes and bad Kings.”
Napoleon soon intercepted another letter from Ferdinand’s wife, Maria
Antonia, to the Queen of Naples, and he sent it to Carlos IV. to show
what dreadful reports she gave of her father and mother-in-law, and
how she not only spoke against France with the bitterness of hatred,
but she offered to work with all her might to break the alliance of the
Spanish Cabinet with the Emperor of the French.
The King, seeing the false position in which he was placed by the
imprudence of his daughter-in-law, begged his wife to take the letter
to the Princess of Asturias, and to conjure her to be more careful in
the future.
The Queen seems to have been as conciliatory as possible in the
interview, but Maria Antonia would not listen to her mother-in-law, and
behaved in such an arrogant fashion that Ferdinand himself had to call
her to reason.
The dissensions continued at Court, and Ferdinand one day asked Godoy,
the Prince of the Peace, what might be the destination of the combined
fleets. Fearing that the Prince’s Italian wife would betray such an
important State secret, Godoy purposely gave an equivocal reply, saying
that the squadron at Toulon would go towards Egypt, and that the others
would wait for an opportunity of falling upon Ireland.
Maria Antonia lost no time in reporting the news to her mother, and,
consequently, Nelson was manœuvring in those seas whilst the Spanish
and French ships set sail for America. So the Englishman lost many
days waiting off Malta in his belief of the news he had received from
Naples. It was thus that Godoy checkmated the plan of the Princess of
Asturias to aid the English against France, which was as much the foe
of Naples as it was the ally of Spain.
The fact of Ferdinand’s wife manœuvring against Napoleon made her very
unpopular at Court, and, although she was a model of industry and
virtue, Godoy was naturally opposed to one who supported Ferdinand in
his hatred of himself, whilst Escoiquiz regarded her as an invaluable
tool for his designs against the French, and thus the palace was at
this time a perfect hotbed of intrigue.
It was said that the two miscarriages of the Princess of Asturias were
due to treatment to which she was subjected by the arrangement of the
Queen or the Prince of the Peace, or by the concert of both.
The premature death of his wife was indeed an unfortunate thing for
the Prince of Asturias, for, as she said a short time before her
departure, she regretted she was about to leave him, as she believed
that, had she lived, she would have influenced him very wisely. Report
also attributed this death to the machinations of the Queen and her
favourite, albeit it was known that she died from an attack of phthisis.
Some time after the Princess’s death, the Prince of Asturias, who had
subsequently learnt that Godoy had deceived him in his report as to the
destination of the French forces on an important occasion, said to the
favourite:
“But to be frank, Manuel, you were either deceived yourself or you
deceived me. You told me that the French fleet at Toulon was going to
Egypt.”
“It is true, señor, but there was a change in affairs, and so the plan
was changed.”
“No,” returned Ferdinand, “because the fleet went off at the first
start to the ocean----”
“You will recollect,” said la Paz, “it started twice, because the first
time Nelson got news beforehand of it, and so it had to return to the
port and take a very decided direction the second time.”
“No,” returned Ferdinand in a rage, “neither the expedition to Egypt
nor the attack on Ireland were truly arranged. You take a pleasure in
telling me a tissue of lies. It is quite evident that you regard me
as a mere cipher in the palace, and you treat me worse than a porter.
The heir-apparent is the representative of the Sovereign, and deserves
equal respect. Would you have dared to deceive my father like that?”
“When you are King,” returned Godoy, restraining his wrath with
difficulty, “you will yourself justify similar conduct in your
Ministers. But I have long wished to resign my office, and if Your
Highness will add your request to mine in the matter it will not be
difficult to succeed.”
“Yes,” returned Ferdinand, with a malicious smile, “you want to
compromise me like that. Is it not so?” And he turned his back on the
Minister and left him.
Such was the open state of enmity between Godoy and Ferdinand in
the royal palace, and the Prince’s hatred of the favourite was, if
possible, equalled by that of the people.
The King, who was nothing but a tool in his wife’s hands, joined his
consort in overwhelming the man with honours, until he was finally
given the post of High Admiral of Spain and the Indias, coupled with
the title of Highness.
The event was celebrated by all the united bands of Madrid, and, as
Ferdinand had perforce to assist at the festivities with his parents,
he whispered to his brother Carlos that he considered such honours as
a personal insult to himself; “for,” he added, “this vassal of mine is
usurping the love and enthusiasm of the people. I am nothing in the
State, and he is omnipotent. My position is insufferable.”
“Don’t trouble yourself,” returned the Infante. “The more they give,
the sooner they will take it away.”
The eyes of both father and son were now turned to Napoleon as the
arbiter in their dissensions, and so Spain slipped gradually into the
power of the great French commander.
Certainly Ferdinand’s letter to the Emperor was frank, if it was not
self-respecting. “I wish,” he said, “to confide in you as I would in a
tender father. I am full of respect and filial love for my father,” he
continued, “for his heart is good and generous, and, as Your Majesty
knows, these very qualities are but instruments in the hands of astute
and malignant people to keep him from the truth. I implore Your
Majesty,” added the Spanish Prince, “not only to give me a Princess of
your family as a wife, but to do away with all the difficulties which
will accompany the matter.”
The French Ambassador, Beauharnais, husband of the future Empress of
the French, checkmated the Prince’s desires, for he informed Godoy
of the letter addressed to his master, and the favourite prevented
the matter from going any farther. However, although he knew that
his hopes had been defeated, Ferdinand, schooled in the science of
duplicity, caressed his mother and kissed the hand of his father, and
all in such a cheerful and pleasant way that it was thought that he had
overcome his naturally gloomy nature. But “still waters run deep,” and
Ferdinand’s hatred of his mother’s favourite was now a consuming fire,
and at the same time that it was said that Maria Luisa was hatching a
scheme for a change in the dynasty, Ferdinand was engaged in a dreadful
plot against his parents. It was at this time that the Prince presented
his mother with a copy of his translation from the French of Vertot’s
“Revoluciones Romanas,” and the title was naturally very obnoxious to
the Sovereigns. The very word “Revolucion” struck terror in the palace
in those days, as it summoned up pictures of the execution of Louis
XVI. and Marie Antoinette, so Carlos IV. remonstrated with the Prince
on the direction taken by his literary tastes, and stopped the sale of
the work; so the book remained at the printer’s until its translator
ascended the throne of Spain.
As the King was glad to see his son occupied, he told him that, if he
really wished to cultivate his literary taste, he would advise him to
translate Cordillac’s “Étude de l’Histoire,” and when Ferdinand asked
his father what motto he would suggest for the book, Carlos promptly
returned: “Les hommes ne sont pas grands par leurs passions, mais par
leur raison.”
Thus, by the time the Court returned to the Escorial for the autumn
months, the royal parents congratulated themselves that Ferdinand’s
literary occupations had banished his misanthropic humours; and when
the Queen was told one day by the Marquesa de Perijaa, who was out
walking with her, that her son passed the nights in writing, she
explained to the lady that the Prince was engaged in the translation
recommended by his father, and the information of his absorption in
writing suggested no ulterior design.
However, one day Carlos IV. found a letter placed in a room in the
palace ready to meet his eye. “Urgent” was written on the cover, and
the letter had no signature. Indited evidently with a trembling hand,
it ran thus:
“Prince Ferdinand is plotting something in the palace, the Crown is
in danger, and Queen Maria Luisa is in imminent peril of dying from
poison. The prevention of the deed is implored without an instant’s
delay. The faithful vassal who gives this information is not in a
position to fulfil his duty in any other way.”
All efforts to discover the writer of this epistle failed, and proof of
its authorship was never found; but the writer’s object was gained, and
the King determined to investigate his son’s labours. So he appeared
one night in the Prince’s study with the excuse of asking him to
compose something to celebrate the recent successes in America; and
this he did in a tone of friendliness, as he did not really give any
credit to the anonymous accusation which had reached him. However,
Ferdinand’s confusion at his father’s visit was suspicious, and,
following the Prince’s eyes, the King saw they were turned with anxiety
to some papers on the table, and his request to see them was met with
insolence. So the Sovereign promptly had the Prince put under arrest,
with the understanding that he was not to leave his room or speak to
anybody.
As Godoy was ill in Madrid at the time, Carlos sent for Caballero, the
Minister of Grace and Justice, in post-haste, and to him was read one
of the documents he had found on Ferdinand’s table, which the Prince
had written at the dictation of Escoiquiz to present to his father. In
this paper the character of Godoy was painted in the darkest colours,
and the favourite was even accused of aspiring to the throne by
plotting the death of the King and the rest of the Royal Family. The
monarch was advised in the letter to ascertain these facts by lying in
wait and listening to the tools of Godoy during a day’s shoot in the
Pardo or in the Casa de Campo.
The King was also counselled to hold no communication with his wife
during the time of the inquiry, so as to avoid her tears and plaints,
and he was told to associate his heir with him in the Government and
to give him the command of the troops; and, finally, His Majesty was
implored by his son to keep the letter a profound secret from his
mother, as he did not wish to be exposed to her resentment and the
revenge of his enemies.
In another document written to the Prince of Asturias, Escoiquiz
advised quite a different course of action, for he suggested that the
fall of Godoy should be accomplished by an appeal to the Queen herself.
Ferdinand was counselled to implore his mother on his knees to give up
the favourite, whilst supporting his appeal by an account of the amours
of the Prince of the Peace with other ladies; and the letter concluded
with the advice to avoid all thought of a marriage with Godoy’s
sister-in-law. The King had also found in his son’s room the cipher and
key of the correspondence used between the Prince and the Archdeacon
of Toledo, and these were the same which had been used by his late
daughter-in-law with the ex-Queen of Naples.
And, lastly, among the papers there was a letter in Ferdinand’s own
handwriting, which was closed but not directed, and evidently meant for
his adviser. In this note the Prince said he would look for a priest
to put the document in his father’s hands. He said, moreover, that he
had taken St. Hermenegildo for his patron saint in the matter; but
although he had put himself under this sacred protection, it was with
no desire to accept the vocation of a martyr, and he would therefore be
very careful to ascertain what success could crown the plot for Godoy’s
overthrow before starting on it. But if the plot succeeded, he wished
the storm to fall only on the head of _Sisberto_ (Don Manuel Godoy) and
_Govinda_ (Queen Maria Luisa, his mother), and _Leovigildo_ (Carlos
IV.) was to be brought over to his side with cheers and applause.
The perusal of the papers completed, the King turned to Caballero,
saying:
“What punishment does the law impose for a son who acts like that?”
“Señor,” was the reply, “royal clemency is out of court in this matter;
the criminal deserves death!”
“What!” cried the Queen, “have you forgotten he is my son? By my right
as his mother I will destroy these papers which would condemn him, for
he has been deceived, he has been ruined!” And so saying, the unhappy
mother flung herself into a chair, weeping bitterly and clutching at
the incriminating letters. It was thus that they never appeared in the
inquiry.
Caballero advised a frank statement of the facts to the nation, so a
royal manifesto was addressed by the King to the country, explaining
“that, albeit his son was familiar with all the principles of
Christianity indoctrinated by his paternal affection, he had favoured a
plot to dethrone him.”
The King, moreover, wrote the following letter to Napoleon:
“SAN LORENZO,
“_October 20, 1807._
“MY BROTHER,
“At the time in which I was concerting means for the destruction of
our common enemy, and when I thought that the designs of the Queen of
Italy had ceased with the death of her daughter [Ferdinand’s wife], I
find that the spirit of blackest intrigue is within the very palace. My
eldest son, the heir-presumptive to the throne, has conceived a fearful
design to dethrone me and to attempt the life of his mother. Such an
atrocious crime can only be punished by the severity of the law. _That
(law) which calls him to succeed me must be revoked, for one of his
brothers will be more worthy to take his place in my heart and on the
throne._
“Now I am trying to discover his accomplices, to find the thread of the
fearful misfortune, and I will not lose an instant in informing Your
Imperial Majesty of the matter, begging you to aid me with your opinion
and counsel.
“This I beg, etc.,
“CARLOS.”
That day, when Ferdinand thought his father had gone hunting, he begged
his mother to come to his room or to let him go to hers. The Queen
declined to comply with these requests, but she sent Caballero to the
Prince, and, with the cowardly duplicity in which he was an expert,
Ferdinand told the Minister that the serious steps with regard to the
Queen had been suggested by his mother-in-law, the ex-Queen Caroline,
and that they had filled both him and his late wife with horror. He
added that, if the persistence of his evil counsellor had led him to
be a little weak, it must be remembered he had resisted the seductions
for four years, and that he had sought to introduce reforms into the
kingdom.
When Godoy had recovered sufficiently from his indisposition to go to
the Escorial, he appeared in the room of the disgraced Prince.
Ferdinand threw himself into the arms of the favourite against whom he
had plotted so darkly, exclaiming through his tears:
“Oh, my Manuel, I have wanted so much to see you. I have been deceived
and ruined by those rogues. You alone can get me out of this trouble.”
“I have come for that purpose,” returned Godoy. “You are the son of my
King and Queen. Many a time I have held you in my arms, and I would
give you a thousand lives if I had them. And I wept,” said Godoy,
who tells this story in his “Mémoires,” “even more than the Prince,
although his tears came from his heart.”
“Yes, I am certain,” continued the Prince, “that you would not come to
see me like this if you did not intend to help me. You have spoken with
my parents? I cannot hope that they will pardon me. I have given the
names of my evil advisers. What more can I do to show my repentance? If
there is anything more I can do, only tell me, tell me, for I will do
anything in which to please my dear parents, and you too. I beg of you
to help me, for pity’s sake.”
“Señor, señor,” returned Godoy, “there is an immense distance between
this humility to a mere slave of your family and changing your opinion
of me. This I do beg of you to do; and as for the rest, I have only
come for your good.”
“May God reward you!” replied the Prince. “You are the only one who can
speak for me without any fear of compromising himself. Will you not
dictate me a letter to my parents?”
“The best words you can write,” said Godoy, “are those from your own
heart, and those I will take myself to your parents.”
The result of this advice was two letters. The first was addressed to
the King:[1]
“SEÑOR, DEAR PAPA,
“I have done wrong, I have sinned against you as a King and as a
father; but I repent, and now I offer you the most humble obedience.
I ought to have done nothing without telling Your Majesty, but I was
taken by surprise. I have revealed the culprits, and I entreat Your
Majesty to pardon me for having lied the other day, and that you will
permit your grateful son to kiss your royal feet.
“FERDINAND.”
[1] “History of Ferdinand VII.,” 1843.
The other missive ran thus:
“SEÑORA, DEAR MAMMA,
“I am very sorry for the grave offence I have committed against my
parents and my King and Queen; and it is with the deepest humility that
I beg Your Majesty to intercede with papa for permission to kiss his
royal feet.
“FERDINAND.”
The Prince’s plea was granted, and the King pardoned his son, whilst
ordering the inquiry to be completed against those who had instigated
the plot.
Ferdinand sought to prove his horror of the counsels of his late
tutor by showing his parents the books he had sent him, with the
passages marked which the tutor had considered most appropriate to his
situation. The works were “The Life of St. Hermenegildo,” the poem by
Morales in honour of the same saint, that of Alfonso the Wise and those
of the Prince of Viana, Louis XIII., King of France, and his mother,
Marie de Medicis.
Maria Luisa’s maternal affection, and Napoleon’s refusal to allow the
publication of any information bearing upon himself or his Ambassador
Beauharnais, took all the significance from the inquiry, and, as the
matter was thus gradually dropped, the country exonerated the Prince of
Asturias from all blame.
Ferdinand’s opposition to Godoy and his mother certainly seemed to
have been founded more upon personal aversion than political policy,
for when the favourite cooled towards the French on finding that his
designs on Portugal were not to be realized, Ferdinand himself began to
show favour to the foreigners, and this is proved by his correspondence
with Napoleon, which was published in _Le Moniteur_ in 1808.