ROYAL MATRIMONIAL SCHEMES--HOW ISABELLA’S SISTER FLED FROM PARIS
IN 1848
1843-1848
Isabella’s marriage was now a burning subject of discussion and
intrigue. The objection offered to her marriage with one of the sons of
the Infanta Luisa Carlota was the hatred reigning between the mother of
the proposed bridegroom and Queen Maria Cristina.
Louis Philippe of France had also his own designs in these marriage
prospects, and would fain have united the Dauphin to the young Queen.
But, as we know, England put her veto upon this alliance, as it would
have upset the balance of European power; so the French King had
to be contented with the marriage of his younger son, the Duke of
Montpensier, with Isabel’s sister Luisa Fernanda.
There was a strong party in favour of the Queen’s marriage with the
Count of Montemolin, son of Don Carlos, as this union would have put
an end to the rivalry reigning between these two branches of the Royal
Family.
But finally attention was turned to the sons of Don Francisco de Paula
as the most suitable candidates for the hand of the Queen. Miraflores
explains that it was natural for the Duke of Cadiz, the eldest son of
the Infante, to be preferred by the existing Cabinet in Spain and the
Queen-mother, as he was a quiet, judicious Prince, who had accepted and
fulfilled with honour the post of Colonel of a cavalry regiment; whilst
Don Henry was of a turbulent disposition, whose conduct left much to
be desired at the Court of the Queen-mother, to whom he had written
from Bayonne very disrespectfully, and in Brussels he had distinguished
himself by publishing ideas which bordered on being revolutionary.
[Illustration: ISABELLA II., QUEEN OF SPAIN
After a Painting by De Madrazo]
Whilst the royal party was at Pampeluna a mysterious document in
French fell into the hands of the Minister of Foreign Affairs, signed
“Legitimista.” The document ran thus:
“_To the Minister of Foreign Affairs._
“Before the Duc de Nemours and the Duc d’Aumale left Paris as the
emissaries of His Majesty the great ‘Père de famille,’ French
legitimists knew that the meeting at Pampeluna was merely a matter of
form. The Duc d’Aumale cannot be the husband of Doña Isabel; his father
knows it; M. Guizot and M. Bresson know it; and the Queen, wife of the
Citizen-King, knows it, and she is the most strongly opposed to the
union.
“The Duc de Montpensier will be the husband of the Infanta; this is
what is arranged, and what will take place. The Citizen Louis has
made a plan by which he thinks that in time Montpensier will occupy
the throne of Spain by the side of the immediate heiress, Luisa
Fernanda, because experienced doctors in medicine have declared to
Bresson that the Queen is very ill with an hereditary disease which
will take her to the grave. Why has not the Princess got it? That is
a mystery which time will reveal. Who will give his hand in marriage
to Queen Isabel? We hear that the candidature of Prince Henry is in
favour. But this illustrious youth cannot be the husband of the Queen,
neither can his brother, Don Francisco de Asis.
“The Minister whom I have the honour of addressing is ignorant of the
reason, and I can give it to him.
“The Minister must know that when Princess Luisa Carlota was on her
death-bed she did not, even in this sad moment, forget the troubles
of her sister; and impelled by conscientious scruples, she sent for
her illustrious sons, and, taking them each by the right hand, she
said these solemn words to them, in a sad tone and with a tenderness
which was truly Christian: ‘My sons, I wish to reach heaven, I wish
to quit you and the world without remorse, and therefore I declare I
repent having contributed through imprudent affection to thwarting
the legitimate succession of the Crown of Spain, and this I swear on
my salvation. So I command you as a mother, as a Princess, and as a
repentant sinner, to swear that neither of you will aspire to the hand
of Isabella.’”
Narvaez showed that this document was a fraud, as, at the death of the
Infanta, Don Henry was at some distance from Madrid, and Francisco was
at Pampeluna.
Isabella’s own feelings about her marriage were hardly taken into
consideration at all. As a matter of fact, she had been more inclined
to Prince Henry, the younger son of Doña Luisa Carlota, than to
Francisco, and it will be remembered that even as a child she had
admired the portrait of the Prince, which had been secretly sent by
the mother to the young Queen; but inclination had no part in the
negotiations, which were regulated entirely by self-interest and
policy, so the tide of influence was soon seen to be in favour of the
eldest son of Prince Francisco de Paula.
Don Henry was furious when he found he was left out in the cold in the
negotiation for the marriages of Isabella and her sister.
In a letter to Bulwer Lytton he writes:
“The old man at the Tuileries is very delighted and pleased. He has
written three letters full of hypocritical words, telling the great
Mama that she has drawn the first prize, and that she is very fortunate
to be marrying her daughters to Paquito (Francisco) and Montpensier. A
French fellow has arrived at the palace. You will recollect that I told
you before last night that, judging from the appearance of things, you
and I were going to have our noses put out of joint.
“Istarez is very pleased. Cristina is delighted, and from what I hear
the weddings will take place very soon. When I see you I will give you
more particulars, which I cannot trust to the pen.”
The Queen-mother had been inclined to the idea of the Count of
Trapani, her brother, who had been educated in a Jesuit college at
Naples, as her son-in-law; but, as this idea had not been welcome to
the Government, attention had again been turned to one of the sons
of the Infante Don Francisco de Paula. Don Francisco, Duke of Cadiz,
the eldest, was favoured by France, whilst England gave preference to
Don Henry, Duke of Seville. As Miraflores says, it was natural for
the Queen-mother to prefer the eldest son of Don Francisco, as he was
a quiet Prince and one who had fulfilled his duties with credit as
Colonel of a cavalry regiment; whilst Don Henry was of a more turbulent
nature, and his antagonistic conduct to the Queen-mother had excited
some disturbance in the palace. In the letters he sent from Brussels
to Madrid he had manifested a revolutionary spirit, which filled the
Moderates with alarm. However, poor Isabel preferred this hot-headed
Prince to his more peaceful-minded brother, and long were the arguments
the young Queen held with her mother against the project of her union
with the elder brother. Fortunately, however, the young Queen seemed
somewhat pleased with the appearance of Don Francisco, and at the fêtes
given in honour of the engagement she seemed very cheerful.
In an interview with Queen Maria Cristina, Bulwer Lytton said: “I can
understand your joy as a mother at seeing your eldest daughter destined
for a Prince who will make for the happiness of the royal domestic
hearth; but as to the marriage of the Infanta----”
Here Cristina interrupted him, saying: “It is decided that her union
with Montpensier will take place on the same day as that of the Queen.”
The Duke of Rianzares had evidently favoured the alliance of the
Princess Luisa Fernanda with the Duke of Montpensier, for when the
matter was fully arranged Louis Philippe wrote to Queen Maria Cristina:
“Please give my kind regards to the Duke of Rianzares, and thank him
for the part he has taken in the matter I have so much at heart.”
So France and her supporters in Spain gained the day, and the double
wedding of the young sisters was fixed for October 10, 1846. It was
with all the magnificent state for which the Court of Spain is famed
that the reception by Isabel and Fernanda took place at the palace
(for the publication of the marriage contracts) in the Salon of the
Ambassadors. Alexandre Dumas was among the distinguished Frenchmen
accompanying the bridegroom of the Infanta Fernanda, and the great
author attended a bull-fight with the noblemen as toreadors, and the
fêtes all the week were of surpassing splendour.
The religious ceremony itself was held in the Church of Atocha with all
imaginable pomp and splendour. The Patriarch of the Indias received
the brides at the door of the church, and noticeable among the French
guests was Alexandre Dumas, author of “The Three Musketeers.” All the
Diplomatic Corps were there with the exception of the English.
In the ceremony the Patriarch placed upon the open palms of the Queen’s
bridegroom the thirteen pieces of money pledged as his dowry, which was
then passed by the bridegroom to the hands of his bride, saying, “This
ring and this money I give you as a sign of marriage,” and the Queen
replied, “I accept them.”
The same ceremony was used with the Infanta and her bridegroom, and
then the prelate, with his mitre and crook, escorted the royal couples
to the altar, and there read the Mass. During the Epistle the Patriarch
presented the candles, veils, and conjugal yoke, and at the conclusion
of the Gospel the Patriarch turned to the Queen and her bridegroom,
and said to the latter: “I give Your Majesty a companion, and not a
servant; Your Majesty must love her as Christ loves His Church.” And
then the same words were said to the other couple. The periodical which
published this account of the wedding remarked that the Queen and her
husband looked smiling and pleased, but the Infanta looked sad.
The attempt on the life of the Queen soon after her marriage caused
great excitement, and the trial of Angel de la Riva, a native of
Santiago, in Galicia, and editor of a paper called _El Clamor Publico_,
who was caught just after firing the shot, was followed with the
deepest interest.
The testimony of Don Manuel Matheu, officer of the Royal Guard of
Halberdiers, a man of thirty-five years of age, gives some idea of the
etiquette of the time.
He declared that on May 4, 1847, he was on duty, so when the Queen
returned from her drive he went as usual to receive her at the foot of
the staircase with his little company of six halberdiers, and a Captain
with a lamp, and two other attendants with their axes. On descending
from the carriage, Her Majesty said to him: “Do you know that on
passing through the Calle de Alcalá two shots were fired at me.”
The officer returned: “Two shots at Your Majesty?”
“Yes,” was the reply; “you cannot doubt it; I saw them get down from a
carriage or cab.”
The Colonel was not aware if Her Majesty said an open carriage or a
shut one.
“I felt something,” she added, “pass over my forehead which hurt me.”
“And as this was evident,” continued the officer, “I could but give
credit to Her Majesty’s words. Moreover, Her Highness the Infanta Doña
Maria Josefa added: ‘There is no doubt of the fact, for I myself saw
the men.’”
Then Her Majesty told the witness he was to inform the Ministers of
what had happened. This he did, leaving a message at the door of the
Secretary of State, and sending a halberdier to inform the Minister of
War.
It is not necessary to give further particulars of the long trial
of the accused. He was, as we know, first condemned to be beaten to
death, and being saved from this dreadful fate by the able defence of
Perez Hernandez, he was in November, 1847, condemned to twenty years’
imprisonment. But on July 23, 1849, the Queen showed her generous
spirit by commuting the sentence to four years’ exile from Madrid and
all the royal resorts, as Her Majesty nobly gave full benefit to the
representation of the murderous lawyer’s madness, or the influence
exercised by others.
In the rapid and unexpected flight of the French Royal Family from
the Palace of the Tuileries, Princess Clementina, wife of the Duke of
Saxony, and the Duchess of Montpensier, were separated from the King
and Queen. When the Duke of Montpensier accompanied his father to the
carriages waiting for them in the Place de la Concorde, he thought he
would have no difficulty in returning to fetch his wife, who had been
confined for some days in her apartments on account of her interesting
condition of health. But the crowds which had collected meanwhile in
the gardens made it impossible for the Prince to return to the palace.
He had fortunately left the Princess in the care of some of his suite
and Monsieur Julio de Lasteyrie, who was distinguished for his loyalty
and popularity. So the Duke mounted his horse and followed his father.
Directly Monsieur Lasteyrie saw that the palace was invaded, he gave
his arm to the Duchess of Montpensier, and in the confusion of the
moment they passed unnoticed from the gates and mingled with the crowd.
Monsieur de Lasteyrie hoped to arrive in time to put the Princesses
into the royal carriages, which, however, started off at a gallop just
as they arrived within sight of them.
So Lasteyrie escorted the royal ladies to the house of his mother. In a
few minutes Princess Clementina left the timely refuge, and continued
her way to the Trianon, where she met her father; whilst the Duchess of
Montpensier remained for the night under the protection of Madame de
Lasteyrie.
There she heard from her husband at Dreux that she was to join him at
the Castle of Eu, whither the King was going.
But the monarch found it impossible to get to this haven, so when the
young Princess arrived there the following day she found the place
deserted. Hearing an alarming rumour that a party of workmen were
coming to pillage the Palace of Eu, as they had ransacked the one at
Neuilly, the Duchess quietly left the place, and repaired to the house
of Monsieur Estancelin, a diplomat of the Bavarian Embassy. Under the
escort of this gentleman and that of General Thierry she started off
for Brussels. On passing through Abbeville, the sight of the carriage
attracted attention, and the people cried: “There are royal fugitives
in that coach!” Monsieur Estancelin put his head out of the window,
and, as his name was known in the district, he declared that the lady
was his wife, and he was going abroad with her. To put the people off
the scent, he then gave orders to the postilion to drive to the house
of a friend of his, well known for his republican opinions. Arrived at
the house, Estancelin whispered in the ear of his friend the name and
rank of the lady under his escort.
But the man, in fear of the consequences of the discovery of the
secret, declined to give his aid in the matter, in spite of all
arguments of both gentlemen in charge of the Princess, setting forth
the dreadful consequences of her being frightened or subjected to
imprisonment in her delicate condition.
It was all in vain; the republican declined to receive the Princess,
and they had to turn away from the door in despair, for several people
had gathered in front of the house, curious to see who could be seeking
shelter at such a late hour.
So Monsieur Estancelin bade General Thierry conduct the lady out of the
town by a particular gate leading to the bank of the river, whilst he
went in search of other friends, who might aid him to get fresh horses
and a carriage with which he would meet them.
So the poor Princess started forth with her military ally.
Unfortunately, the gate of the town led through a narrow exit only
meant for pedestrians. So they wandered along in the cold rain, picking
their way over the stones and rubbish of this out-of-the-way road. The
General, alarmed at the drenched condition of the Princess and her
evident exhaustion and fatigue, decided that he had better let her sit
on a stone to rest, whilst he went in search of a guide or a refuge.
The officer hastened along the road, fearing to call the attention of
the enemy to the lady in his care, and yet anxious to get a guide to
the rendezvous appointed by Estancelin. Finally, to his delight, he was
accosted by a friend of Estancelin, who had sent him in search of the
couple, and, quickly returning to the Princess, they escorted her to
the carriage which was waiting on the highroad to Brussels.
“What dreadful adventures this awful night!” exclaimed General Thierry,
as the Duchess of Montpensier sought to recover one of her shoes which
had slipped off her weary wet feet in the mud.
“Never mind,” returned the brave Princess; “I prefer these adventures
to the monotony of the round table of work in the sumptuous salons of
the Tuileries.”
The relief with which the letter announcing the safety of her sister
was received by Queen Isabella can well be imagined, as in those days
the limited communication by telegraph was stopped on account of the
fog.
The fall of Louis Philippe relieved England of the fear of the upset
of the balance of European power from the astuteness with which he had
arranged the marriages of the Spanish Queen and her sister.
There was no doubt of the intentions which had led to the Duke of
Montpensier being the brother-in-law of the Queen, and the unsuspicious
girl was a prey to the reports which were spread by the ambitious
Orleanists.