THE PALACE AND POLITICS DURING THE REGENCY OF QUEEN MARIA CRISTINA
1894-1902
The country was certainly in a very unsettled condition at the
commencement of the Regency, and the difficulties of administration
were increased by the insurrections in Cuba and the Philippines, which
were unquestionably due to the corruption of the Government of the
mother-country.
The recently published “History of the Regency,” by Señor Juan Ortega
Rubio, which I had the privilege of studying in the library of the
royal palace at Madrid, throws much light on the state of affairs
at this period; for the author ably sets forth in the prologue the
political condition of the country during the Regency.
“There were certainly plenty of vehement politicians and eloquent
orators,” says the writer, “but we can scarcely cite one true
statesman. Favouritism was never more dominant and prevalent than it
was at this time. And favourites whose advancement was due to adulation
and daring, if not to insolence, gave no support to industrious men,
and much less so to those who were firm and energetic.
“The army, professorate, Church, and, indeed, all the professions, were
regarded as schools of politics, and were in the greatest state of
decadence.
“No respect could be accorded to flattering courtiers or to an ignorant
people. If the beautiful sun of religious tolerance shone upon the
whole of Europe, Spain would be the one country condemned to dwell in
the shades of fanaticism.
“It is necessary to raise the moral sense of the Spanish people. If
this be necessary in all moments of history, it is more than ever
indispensable now that despair is taking possession of all hearts,
doubt of all spirits, egoism of all consciences, and positivism of all
men.
“From the sixteenth century Spain has been gradually going down. We
do not lose hope, but we think, like the Roman Plato, that the sun
of education will gradually pierce the clouds of ignorance, slavery,
doubt, and sophistry, and the dawn of justice, order, and faith, will
break over our land.”
Thirty prelates came to condole with the Queen on the death of the
King, and the Church always made a great claim on the attention of the
Queen-Regent in consideration of her former position in the religious
house in Austria.
It was said that, if the Pope left his magnificent home at the Vatican,
he would come and take up his abode in Spain; but, as the _Figaro_ said:
“The Government of the Queen-Regent will thus put itself completely
under the power of Leo XIII., who will be treated like a Sovereign; and
he will, they say, be given the Palace of Aranjuez for his residence.”
When the Queen-Regent asked Canovas whom she ought to appoint President
of the Ministry, he promptly said, “Sagasta”; but the Congress was a
fictitious Congress, for, as Martin Hume says when referring to the
Parliament in the earlier part of the century:
“There was not then, and never has been since, any sincerity or reality
in the pretended antagonism of the political parties.”
The lack of sincerity in the political opinions, even of those devoted
to the monarchy, is shown by Rubio in the speech of Martinez Campos to
Silvela; for he said:
“I am neither a Liberal nor a Conservative. I made myself a Liberal
because I thought the King wanted the Liberals to come in, and now I
am a Conservative because the Queen wanted to give the power to the
Conservatives.”
The politicians in the _camarillas_ at the palace always brought
forward the phantom of Carlism to scare the Sovereigns from fulfilling
their desire of promoting true Parliamentary elections, and true
patriots sought to show King Alfonso XII., Queen Maria Cristina, and,
later, Alfonso XIII., that those who tried to prevent the country from
enjoying this constitutional privilege of going to the polls were
only anxious to preserve their own patronage in the nomination of the
deputies, and that the monarchy would be adored by the nation if it
favoured the reform which had been promised in the days of Ferdinand
VII.
The Queen-Regent Maria Cristina was told that the public offices were
in the hands of patrons, and it was well known that a recorder in the
law courts of Barcelona was blind, but he owed his place to being the
brother of the _cacique_ (or influential person) who supported Canovas
in Catalonia; and there was also a magistrate in Madrid who could not
see, but he, too, had his patron.
The Queen lent a willing ear to the plea of the Chamberlain for reform
in these matters, and an inquiry was instituted about the blind
recorder at Barcelona. But so powerful is patronage that, although the
recorder had been seen to have his hand guided to sign the necessary
documents, it was declared that he was not blind; and the informer of
the abuse nearly lost his life at the hand of a relative of the man in
power who had allowed such a state of things, for he was struck by a
sabre at the back of the head, and prostrated senseless to the ground.
Naturally, the wounded man wished to call out his assailant for such an
insult, but the Queen-Regent, who sent daily for news of the injured
man, begged him, as a favour to herself, to abstain from further steps.
To this request the officer was obliged to accede, on the condition,
which was confirmed, that the assailant should formulate a full apology
for his deed, and this was done.
It is difficult for foreigners to realize the power of the _cacique_ in
Spain. He is always the most influential person in the district, and
the appointment of Judges, Alcalde (Mayor), Governor, and deputy, are
all in his hands. The man he suggests as representative of the district
in the Congress is sure to be elected, and when the Ministers wish a
certain person to have a place in Parliament, the name has only to be
sent to the _cacique_ who supports that Minister.
Caciquism cripples Spain, and the collection of magnificent speeches
and articles published in a large work under the title of “Oligarchy
and Caciquism” shows that every man of importance in Spain can give his
testimony against the evil which crushes the country; but, eloquent as
they are on the matter, the Ministers do not take a step to do away
with a system which advances their own ends.
So, as Martin Hume says, “No attempt is made, or, indeed, can be made
under present circumstances, to trample out the evil that is sapping
Spain’s vigour--_empleomania_; no bold politician dares to look facts
in the face and speak the whole truth. And so the evil circle is
complete; dishonest Governments are faced in sham battle by dishonest
oppositions, and Parliamentary institutions, instead of being a public
check upon abuses, are simply a mask behind which a large number of
politicians may carry on their nefarious trade with impunity.”
And when it is remembered that, according to the law of Spain, it is
the King alone who has the right of appointing a Ministry, it is he who
has to bear the onus of what goes wrong.
An amusing story is told of a Señor Comas, who was a _cacique_ of
Sagasta’s. The gentleman had been bidden to an audience of Her Majesty
at half-past six. He arrived at the palace punctually, as he had
promised to return to dinner with his grandchildren. Some hours elapsed
in the antechamber; diplomats came and went, and many others who,
according to the strict Court etiquette, were to take precedence of the
politician.
At last he became impatient, and the thought of his grandchildren
waiting so long for his return overcame all politeness; he took up his
coat, put it on, and, to the astonishment of the Court officials, he
prepared to depart.
“You are going, sir?” said the lackey at the door.
“Certainly,” was the reply; “it is dinner-time, and my grandchildren
are waiting for me.”
“But what shall we say to the grandee?” said the servant, raising his
hands to heaven, and referring to the grandee in attendance on the King.
“Tell ‘the great one’ (_el grande_),” returned Comas, “that ‘the little
one’ has gone off.”
And so he did.
The remark was repeated at Court, and the following day the
Queen-Regent received the _cacique_ with demonstrations of respect.
Queen Maria Cristina always encouraged those who really wished to
counsel her for the welfare of Spain. When, therefore, somebody was
loyal and disinterested enough to present a programme to Her Majesty
which would do away with the abuses of the Government by introducing a
true Parliamentary representation, she pressed the paper to her bosom,
crying: “Yes, yes, it is true, it is true, and I will do it!”
But politicians would not support a course which limited their
exclusivism, and so things went on in the same fatal way.
To the surprise of the Court, Castelar, the great republican leader,
made at this time a great speech in which he showed that the advanced
opinions of his partisans were not incompatible with monarchy, for he
said:
“When our fanaticism made us think that monarchy was incompatible with
public liberty, we did not understand the monarchical principles of
England, Sweden, or Norway. But now I can tell you that a monarchy
should be a Liberal monarchy.”
And the orator went on to say that a Liberal monarchy is a democratic
monarchy in so far as the universal suffrage became an accomplished
fact, for a democratic monarchy is the formula of this generation.
Of course this speech, which certainly showed that the leader of
republicanism had considerably modified his views, called forth much
remark, and gossip in the press even went so far as to associate the
name of a “charming royal widow” with that of the great orator.
But Sagasta set the matter right by saying, in one of his speeches,
that “those who spread such reports were strangely ignorant of the
temple of the soul of the august lady, and that no credence was to be
given to the stories.”
More sincere than the monarchists, Castelar made a strong protest
against the mode of Parliamentary elections, for he said: “The census
is a lie, votes do not exist, and scrutineers destroy what there are.”
This statement of facts could not be refuted, and the Central Union
gave voice to the opinion that “municipal elections, like all others,
should be the result of universal opinion, and that the indirect
intervention of the Ministers was deserving of censure.”
Such expressions of opinion show that there was a deeply rooted feeling
of the falsity of the Spanish Parliamentary system, but it required
politicians to be patriots to reform them.
The corruptions in the Spanish colonies were, indeed, a standing
proof of the evil wrought by the Parliamentary system of patronage,
as it introduced people to places of importance in the colonies who
were utterly unfit for them. The Marquis of Salamanca made a vehement
protest against these abuses in the colonies, which were estranging
them from the mother-country; and Maura, as Minister of Foreign
Affairs, made one of his first marks as an orator by setting forth
before the Congress the evils of the dishonest actions of those whose
advance had been due to their patrons instead of their patriotism.
Canovas declared in the Congress that “he was very anxious that the
Great Antilles should elect its own representatives, so that its voice
could be heard in the national Congress”; but, unfortunately, the
statesman did nothing to promote such an advisable course, and the
leaders of the political groups held to the power which they gained
from the patronage of the colonial posts.
Canovas, who now called himself the “Liberal-Conservative,” in his fear
that his Liberal rival should gain more partisans than himself, went
on to say that “the Government recognizes the necessity of introducing
great reforms in the administrative and financial affairs of the island
of Cuba, for the political posts ought to be filled by the sons of the
colony”; and he ended by saying: “When the triumph of our arms is an
accomplished fact, and when the rebellion is suppressed, these reforms
will be realized in a wide and generous spirit.”
But unfortunately the triumph of the Spanish arms could not be
accomplished, for they were led against insuperable difficulties, and
it was an injustice of the mother-country to expect that her forces
could prove victorious against the forces of a continent like that of
America.
It required a strong hand to save the Spanish Court from the
overbearing of one whose father had adopted revolutionary ideas.
It was the Duke of Seville, the eldest son of the late Don Enrique,
who, when in command of the Guard at the palace, entered the
antechamber of Maria Cristina’s apartments one day, and demanded an
interview. The Gentleman-in-Waiting said that Her Majesty had just
returned tired from a walk, and had given orders that she could not
receive anybody. But the Duke insisted, uttering disrespectful remarks
as to what he could do if he were driven to desperation. These words
were repeated to the Captain-General, who commanded the division to
which the Duke of Seville belonged, and he was summoned before a
court-martial.
The Minister of War made a speech, in which he said: “When the whole
nation vies in showing respect and sympathy to a lady who claims
protection in her dignity and her misfortunes as a widow, it is
deplorable when a person of the family of the Bourbons shows such
disrespect, which has such a bad effect on all, and which can only be
explained as a momentary aberration of reason.”
The trial led to the Duke of Seville being condemned to eight years of
imprisonment.
The Queen-Regent was always far more concerned about matters of the
State than about those of her own comfort, and the Court was certainly
wanting in good service at this time, and Her Majesty caught a severe
chill one cold day, because the fur cloak she had asked for was not
forthcoming, when she had to go out in an open carriage to attend an
important function.
And it can be said with truth that the luxuries of a Court did not
include the necessary one of having fresh eggs for breakfast. A
Chamberlain having noted the sweet patience with which the Queen bore
the daily vexation of finding the eggs musty, finally ventured to
present her with a little egg-boiler and some fresh eggs. The gifts
were accepted with the Queen’s usual grace, and with the assurance that
she would now be able to enjoy an egg in her own apartment, like one
of her subjects.
In the evening Maria Cristina played dominoes, listened to music, or
conversed with the greatest affability with those present, whilst
trying to forget for a time the cares of the State.
It was now that Catalonia began to show signs of insisting on a true
suffrage, and Ferretti saw that it would be much better for the
monarchy to satisfy this natural desire for a voice at the polls than
for it to be enforced, as it subsequently was, to the misrepresentation
of the Region in Madrid. So the Colonel wrote to press the matter
on the consideration of Señor Canovas de Castillo. But the Prime
Minister’s insight was not willing to read the signs of the times, for
he wrote the following letter, which I translate from the original:
“_February 4, 1887._
“_To Colonel Señor Don Luis de Figuerola
Ferretti._
“MY DEAR AND HONOURED SIR,
“In reply to your letter of the 1st instant, stating that I gladly note
the regionalist tendencies of Catalonia are fortunately unauthorized
by sensible people, and it seems that the effervescence of the first
moments is passing off, I think it best not to publish anything that
has reference to the matter.
“However, I thank you very much for your efforts in the cause of order,
and I beg to remain,
“Yours very sincerely,
“A. CANOVAS DEL CASTILLO.”
Thus the statesman wilfully shut his eyes to the importance of the
movement, which they vainly hoped was a mere passing feeling.
[Illustration: ANTONIO CANOVAS DEL CASTILLO, CONSERVATIVE PRIME
MINISTER]
But, sure in his presage of the signs of the times, Ferretti strove to
show the Queen-Regent that the politicians turned a deaf ear to the
will of the Catalonians, because they wished to keep the patronage of
the seats of the deputies in their own hands; for if deputies were
elected at the polls there would be an end of patronage, and people
fitted for the representation of the respective centres would be
elected by the constituents themselves.
Moreover, the dreadful abuses in the colonies from this same source
of patronage made the Cubans raise their voices high on the matter.
Martinez Campos had seen things as they were in Cuba in 1878, and he
found that Spain could only put an end to the Cuban War by promising
the Cubans the autonomy for which they craved. But when the General
returned to Spain he was unable to keep the promise made in the name of
his Government, as the Parliament did not wish to abandon the fruitful
field of patronage.
It was some time before Martinez Campos received any reward for his
loyalty in proclaiming the restoration of Alfonso XII. in 1874.
Politicians told how Alfonso XII. refused any title as a sign of
gratitude, and as time went on disappointment was expressed at the
seeming neglect of the officer. It was then that a Chamberlain at Court
ventured to say to the Queen-Regent: “Your Majesty will have been
told that Martinez Campos has refused a title for himself; but may
it be suggested that a title be offered to his sons?” And thus Maria
Cristina, who was always ready to render justice, conferred the title
of the Duke of Leo d’Urgel on the eldest son, and that of the Marquis
of Bastan on the second one. Moreover, after the death of the great
soldier, the Queen-Regent made his widow a grandee of Spain.
The enthusiasm shown in the spring of 1907, when a statue was unveiled
to the memory of the ardent Monarchist, showed that neither the Royal
Family nor the country had forgotten his services to the throne.
The failure of the country to keep the promises of Martinez Campos
to the colonies in 1878 was felt in 1897; but politicians in the
palace still represented matters, and the Queen-Regent was under the
impression that autonomy would mean Separatism. It was then that a
Chamberlain showed Her Majesty a letter from a cousin in Cuba, the
mother of more than one leader of the insurrection, for in this letter
the mother said that she would willingly sacrifice her sons for the
autonomy which would save the island from ruin, through the abuses
and corruptions of the Government at home. And with the grant of the
autonomy America would have no further excuse to interfere in the
matter.
With a true Parliamentary representation in Spain, such an important
State matter could not have been left in the hands of a man like
Sagasta, who, like other politicians, used the intrigues of the palace
for a perversion of the truth. The deputies, if they had been real
patriots instead of being merely the tools of those in power, would
have risen as one man against the refusal of the autonomy; the good
sense of the Queen-Regent would have been satisfied, and the prestige
of Spain and her colonies would have been saved. And to those who think
this statement exaggerated, I must say that as Maura, the present Prime
Minister, permitted me to address him some questions on the policy of
Spain, I asked the great statesman if it were true that the abuses in
the Governmental departments caused the loss of Cuba, and he replied
emphatically in the affirmative. This confirmed the report in the
country, for it is well known that, as Minister of Foreign Affairs at
the time, Maura lifted up his voice in the Congress for the reform of
the evils which threatened and finally caused the loss of the colonies.
Moreover, Maura boldly took up his stand for the much-required suffrage
for Spain, when he said in the Congress:
“A country cannot maintain its loyalty to the Crown in the integrity of
its national being, if it cannot count on the will and the hearts of
the inhabitants.”
When the country was filled with anxiety at the sudden serious
illness of the little King, the stocks fell, the Carlists began to
make themselves conspicuous again, and evil threatened the land with
the shadow overhanging the Court, and the anxious royal mother was
constantly heard to cry:
“Oh, child of my heart! My God, do not take him from me!”
[Illustration: THE INFANTA MARIA TERESA AND KING ALFONSO XIII]
But it was not in idle tears that the royal mother spent her time by
the baby boy’s bedside. Everything that the knowledge of hygiene and
her love as a parent could suggest was brought into use, and finally
Maria Cristina had the triumph both as a Queen and a mother to report
the child out of danger.
Castelar wrote to Sagasta at this time, saying:
“I am very anxious for you to convey my respects to Her Majesty, and
tell her that I have inquired after her august son, the King, twice
every day; and please do not forget to add how sincerely I congratulate
her on his restoration to health.”
It was, indeed, quite due to the rare intelligence of the Queen-Regent
and her knowledge of the laws of hygiene that little Alfonso XIII. was
saved for Spain.
It was by such proofs of her intelligence that Maria Cristina gradually
asserted her just sway at Court. It had been a great struggle in the
first years of her widowhood to gain this sway, for she was liable to
be set aside as a stranger in a foreign country, of which the language
was unknown to her, and she could not help knowing that derogatory
remarks were made about her even by her royal relations. Her very name
was against her, as Spaniards associated it with that of the mother of
Isabel II., who was said to have exploited the land to her own ends.
The Duke of Seville, Prince Henry of Bourbon, was heard to say, in the
presence of the Royal Guard, in 1886: “Of course, the Regency cannot be
entrusted to a foreign Princess.” But he found afterwards he was wrong
in the estimate he had formed of the Austrian lady.
Whilst Alfonso XII. had been alive, Maria Cristina did not feel she
was merely a stranger in a foreign land, and she was often compared to
a ray of sunshine, so bright and joyous was she at Court. For, always
active, merry, and happy, her six years of married life had passed
without heed of the cares of the State, so it was a surprise to the
Spaniards to find that she was possessed of such diplomatic power.
Moreover, the Queen-Regent’s intelligent care of her child during his
illness was a practical lesson to those around her; for, fond mothers
as Spanish women are, the laws of hygiene play little part in their
education.
The little Prince, Alfonso XIII., was indeed a charming child, and soon
gave proofs of his affection for those about him, whilst being the
despair of his governess, Señora Tacon, by the way he set the strict
laws of Spanish Court etiquette at defiance.
“Ah, Juanito! bon petit Juan!” he would call out to the distinguished
General Juan de Cordova, Marquis of Sotomayor; and the Duke of Bivona
he dubbed “Xiquena.” Señora Tacon strove to prevent this familiar style
of address by saying:
“But, Sire, Your Majesty must recollect that the gentleman to whom you
are speaking is the Duke of Bivona.”
“The Duke of Bivona!” returned the little King mockingly. “That’s
all very well, but I know it is Xiquena. Are you not Xiquena?” he
continued, addressing the grandee. Then, seeing a smile on the solemn
countenance of the Duke, he continued: “You see, this lady is always
giving different names to people. She says that my Juanito is General
Juan de Cordova, Marquis of Sotomayor. Don’t be silly!” he added,
turning to Señora Tacon. “That is my Xiquena, and the other is my
Juanito--so there!”
The King’s childish way of settling things developed as he grew into a
lad into the power of forming logical conclusions which would have done
credit to any statesman.
A Chamberlain one day ventured to suggest to the Queen-Regent that
it would be good for the kingdom if a royal visit could be paid to
Barcelona; for if the King did not go to Barcelona, it was not a
question of Catalonia separating itself from the rest of Spain, but of
the Court separating itself from Catalonia. The courtier’s idea was
repeated to the young King by his mother as he came into the room.
“Yes, yes,” returned Alfonso, with his prompt acceptance of a good
suggestion. “If we do not go to Catalonia, it is just as if a prelate
did not visit one part of his diocese, which would mean separation from
that district.”
It was in 1898 that the terrible débâcle of Cuba realized the worst
fears of patriots. The Queen, who had been so badly advised in the
Council by Sagasta, was overwhelmed with grief. The army and navy,
and even the throne of Spain, were loudly attacked, instead of the
Government which had brought them the disaster.
It was then that Figuerola Ferretti had the clever idea of having a
great illustration placarded about the streets of Madrid, headed by a
representation of Mercier’s picture of an angel carrying a wounded man,
with the device “Gloria Victis.” For glory was due to the men who had
suffered nobly and hopelessly in the struggle to which politicians had
provoked the colonies by their maladministration; and leaflets, setting
forth the same idea, were distributed broadcast by thousands in the
streets of Madrid.
This daring protest for the prestige of the Spanish army and navy
doubtless stemmed the tide of public opinion, and the Queen-Regent
congratulated the chamberlain on his loyal course.
Castelar, in an article he published in _La Nouvelle Revue_, put all
the blame of Spain’s misfortunes on Maria Cristina, even going so far
as to compare her with Marie Antoinette, who was so fatal to France.
But one must recollect that, as Rubio says, Castelar said in the
Congress: “‘I am an historical republican, an invincible republican,
a republican all my life by conviction and by conscience, and he who
doubts my republicanism offends and calumniates me, and for this reason
I do not wish to be anybody in any monarchy.’”
But General Blanco declares, with greater justice, that the blame of
the Cuban disaster should rest on the shoulders of Sagasta; and _El
Liberal_ of that date says:
“Señor Sagasta is the one, and the only one, responsible for the
terrible misfortunes which assail our country.
“It was he who advised the Queen-Regent to persist in the course which
led Cuba to seek the intervention of America; and when the royal lady
seemed ready to listen to the wisdom of patriots who pleaded for the
autonomy of the colony, he would present himself at Court, and there
once more persuade the Sovereign to his false view of the matter.”
As Rubio says in his able “History of the Regency”:
“When Sagasta, Romero Robledo, Silvela, and Gamazo spoke in the House
on this burning question, their speeches seemed more like essays in
polemics in an athenæum than discussions in an assembly of legislators
on a matter entailing the salvation or the ruin of the country.”
To those who preferred to be true patriots to flattering courtiers
the state of affairs was desperate, for they felt indignant at the
Queen-Regent being persuaded to a course for which, as Sovereign, she
would have to bear the chief share of the blame; and Ferretti, who
years before had served under General Blanco at Saint Domingo, and had
keenly felt the loss of prestige to the Spanish army when he had to
obey orders and lead the last company from the island, fought hard to
prevent a similar disaster in Cuba in 1898.
In August, 1897, a shudder ran through Spain when Canovas fell by the
hand of an Italian anarchist, and the fact was still more shocking as
the republican Nakens had been told by the perpetrator that the deed
would take place, and he did nothing to warn the statesman.
For ten years Canovas had been the foremost figure in the Congress
and the Court of Spain. The prominent part he had taken in the
restoration had placed what we should call the “strawberry-leaves” on
the brow of his wife; and when, after the tragedy of Santa Aguedas,
the widow followed her husband’s corpse into their palace in the
Castellane, it was to retire definitely from the banquets, reunions,
and great functions in which she had always shone so successfully and
conspicuously as the wife of the Prime Minister of Spain.
After the death of Canovas, Silvela came forward as the leader of the
Conservatives, for the _camarillas_ and intrigues of the followers
of Canovas had hitherto barred his way to high preferment in the
Parliament.
It was known that the Queen-Regent was inclined to patronize General
Polavieja, and there were also Villaverde, Romero Robledo, and
numerous other politicians who all had their partisans, and sought by
_camarillas_ in the palace to gain power for their partisans.
The Queen-Regent often used her charm as a woman to captivate those
opposed to the monarchy, and this power, exercised with all the
rigidity of a lady of strict morality, had its due effect on General
Cazola. It was well known that this officer enjoyed great prestige in
the army, and as he was republican in his opinions, he could have
become a sort of Oliver Cromwell in Spain. He was the only man Canovas
stood in fear of, and Sagasta did not breathe freely till death removed
him from his path.
Maria Cristina was quite aware that he admired her, and when she heard
that the General had given voice to one of his speeches, which might
prove fatal to the loyalty of the army, she sent for the officer,
and with all the charm of her manner she let him see that she was
conscious of the power he could exercise against the dynasty if he
wished. Touched with the evident anxiety of the Queen, all the chivalry
of the gallant General was called into play, and, putting his hand on
his heart, he soothed the fear of the Sovereign by saying: “Do not be
afraid. Your Majesty is sacred in my eyes.”
Such conquests were a satisfaction to Maria Cristina, both as Queen and
woman; and when one noted the great personal influence of the widowed
lady, one could only wish she had given herself more scope for its
exercise, and had not submitted herself so freely to priestly guidance.
Some dissatisfaction was caused among the Liberals by the Queen’s
appointment of a Bishop especially for the palace, where the Prelate of
Madrid had officiated formally. As he had no diocese, the Pope gave him
the title of Bishop of Alcalá and Sion, and this appointment meant the
institution of forty Canons at the Court. The duties of these Canons
was specified as that of drawing the curtains in the royal boxes of
the chapel, but now there are no curtains to draw.
It was whispered by the partisans of Silvela that Polavieja was
favoured by the clergy, and with him in power the Queen-Regent and
the country would be given over to the clerical party. Canovas had
allowed the lady in power to be called the “priestess,” and Sagasta had
repeated to the Queen-Regent reports which were circulated as to Señora
Canovas boasting of having more power than the Queen herself.
Finally, after the death of Canovas, and a short term of power of
General Azcarraga, Silvela was put at the helm of affairs. But the
_camarillas_ at Court again led to the fall of the Ministry, for
Silvela’s choice of Loño as Minister of War was opposed by the choice
of Polavieja by the Sovereign.
Thus, when Figuerola Ferretti saw that the impending death of Sagasta
would lead to the Liberal party being cut up into as many groups as
that of the Conservatives, so that the country would on both sides be
a prey to the intrigues at Court of the partisans of the respective
groups, he ventured, in view of the very superior intelligence
manifested by the young King, after he had attained his majority, to
represent to His Majesty that true Parliamentary elections were the
only means of solving the problem of government, and for this he could
exercise his royal prerogative of forming a Provisional Government. The
King seemed to listen to this proposal with approval, and, indeed, if
this election of the deputies by public vote had been promoted in the
capital, it could never have been used by republicans as a cloak for
Separatism.
The petition for this step was drawn up in the names of the widows
and orphans of those who had fallen in the Cuban War. It was sent
in proof to the secretaries of the King and the Queen-Regent. But
the patriot had not counted on the antagonism of those in power; and
albeit Loygorry, the follower of Lopez Dominguez, spoke eloquently in
favour of the idea in the Senate, Moret, the Minister of the Interior,
stopped its course by forbidding the Prefecture of the Police to affix
the necessary seal to the document; and it was doubtless through such
political influence in the palace that the Chamberlain found that
further influence with the King was prevented by his removal from Court.
The cordial reception of the Colonel by Alfonso XIII., when he saw him
in London in 1905, was cheering to the patriot, and it seems more than
probable that the King is unaware of the Court intrigue by which his
valued adviser was removed from his side.
It was in 1905--only a fortnight before his death--that I had the
privilege of seeing Don Francisco Silvela, who had spent so much time
and effort in the service of his country.
“I am utterly weary of politics,” said the statesman, lifting his tired
eyes to my face. “It is a fruitless task, and no one is safe from
the intrigues at Court. No, no; I am going to give up my spare time
to literature now, which will be far more profitable. And, indeed,
it seems like pouring water into a tank with a hole in it to expend
efforts on the country which is unsupported by a true suffrage.”
It is thus that Alfonso, in 1906, had to appoint seven different
Governments in the space of fourteen months, and it would sometimes
require more than supernatural power to detect the real cause of the
fall of a Cabinet in Spain.