that the king had arrived. Dressed in her Spanish costume, in which she
still felt awkward, she hurried to greet him, but before she reached the
antechamber he was in the room. The queen tried to kneel in order to
kiss his hand; but he saluted her in the Spanish manner by taking hold
of her arms, looking admiringly at her, and murmuring 'My Queen! my
Queen! mi reina! mi reina!' She answered in French, assuring him of her
love and obedience; and he replied in Spanish, for neither knew a word
of the other's language, which seems the more strange when we remember
how long the marriage negotiations had lasted, and that the Queen of
France, with whom Marie Louise had passed so much of her life, was
herself a Spaniard. Under these circumstances, conversation is apt to
come to a standstill; but, luckily, the French ambassador, the Marquis
de Villars, was present as well as a number of Spanish grandees, and he
was able to interpret—or perhaps to invent—everything that was
suitable to the occasion. It was decided that the marriage should take
place at once in the queen's antechamber, and as the archbishop of
Burgos was ill, the benediction should be given by the Patriarch of the
Indies, who was also grand almoner. As the king and queen knelt side by
side a white ribbon was knotted round them, and a piece of white gauze
fringed with silver was laid on the head of the queen and on the
shoulders of the king.
After seeing a bull fight and some races at Burgos, the king and queen
entered their carriage, and, with the shiny green cloth curtains drawn
back, they began their drive to Madrid. It must have felt terribly long
to both of them, as neither could speak to the other; but then Charles
was accustomed to be silent, and Marie Louise was _not_. How thankful
she must have been when the evening came, and she could exchange a few
words with her nurse or her French maids! But she could not chatter as
she would have _liked_ to do, or the Camarera Mayor would drop the low
curtesy which Marie Louise was fast growing to hate, and say, 'Her
Majesty the Queen of Spain is not aware that it is past nine o'clock,
and time she was in bed.' Marie Louise was not clever at languages, and
had as yet picked up no Spanish; but she knew quite well that whenever
her lady-in-waiting began 'Her majesty the Queen of Spain,' she must
stop whatever she was doing at the moment and make ready to do something
else. Her maids of honour happily soon became fond of their new
mistress, and did all they could to make her like her adopted country,
and some of them who knew a little French would try and explain any
custom that puzzled her. The rest looked their sympathy when the old
duchess had done something specially rude or disagreeable, as when, for
instance, she would put her finger into her mouth and attempt to dab
down the queen's curly hair into the smooth locks admired by the
Spaniards!
It was from the maids of honour that Marie Louise learned to know many
things about Spanish life, for she was naturally curious about what went
on around her, and had little to distract her thoughts. From them she
heard that no great noblemen would ever think of dismissing his
servants, but, on the contrary, when any members of his family died he
added all their retainers to his own. As to actual wages, the servants
were paid very little; why, even the gentlemen who formed part of the
household only received fifteen crowns a month, and out of that they
were expected to feed themselves, and to dress in black velvet in winter
and in silk in summer. But, as her Majesty would soon notice, they lived
mostly on vegetables and fruit, which were cheap, and they took their
meals at the public eating-houses at the corners of the streets. Her
Majesty was surprised to see all the carriages drawn by mules? But in
Madrid horses were coming into fashion, which were much better. The late
king had been frequently painted on his horse by one Velasquez, and it
had a beautiful tail, which nearly swept the ground, and a long mane
decorated with ribbons. Then, if the dreaded Camarera Mayor did not
happen to be present, they would begin to talk about the fashions.
Yes, Spanish ladies had quantities of splendid jewels, but they were not
cut and set like those the queen wore. Many of the devout ones had belts
made entirely of relics, and if their husbands were away it was
customary for every wife to dress herself during his absence in grey or
white. Indeed, as a rule it was only young girls or brides who were
permitted by etiquette to put on coloured skirts; the elder ladies were
generally in black silk. 'Rouge their shoulders? Why, of course! Did
they not do so in France?' But at this the queen burst into such fits of
laughter that the old duchess came hurrying in and sternly ordered them
all to be silent.
---------------------
The palace of Madrid was not yet ready, so the king and queen had to go
to Buen-Retiro, a charming house, with a beautiful park, on the
outskirts of the city, just above the river Manzanares. The garden was
laid out in terraces, and ornamented with female statues, all of them
with rouge on their cheeks and shoulders like the ladies. Marie Louise
was surprised to see only two or three guards standing in front of the
palace, and exclaimed that in Paris they would have half a regiment.
'Ah! Madame,' replied the French ambassador, the Marquis de Villars,
'that was a remark made lately by Madame la Comtesse d'Aulnoy to a
Spanish gentleman, and she received for answer, "Are we not all the
king's guards?"'
The first days at Buen-Retiro passed pleasantly enough. The young king
gave himself a holiday from his state duties, and was pleased with the
interest the queen showed in his country. He took all his meals in her
company, and they would even help—or hinder—the maids of honour in
laying the table for dinner. In the evenings they sometimes went to the
theatre, but this was not much amusement for the queen, as the plays
were very long and she could not understand them. When the king was not
with her—and before long he was forced to spend several hours a day
with his ministers—the Duchess of Terranova never left her alone. If
she unfastened the lattice in order to see what was happening in the
park or gardens, the Camarera Mayor would rise from her seat and drop a
low curtesy, and say: 'Her Majesty the Queen of Spain never looks out of
the window'; or if she tried to teach the tiny little pages or maids of
honour, six or seven years old, the games she had played with her own
little sister, she was stopped at once by hearing that 'Her Majesty the
Queen of Spain never condescends to notice children!' If she was eating
her supper beyond the hour which custom had fixed for her to go to bed,
at the command of the lady in waiting her ladies would begin to undress
her at table, and she would find herself lying on her fourteen
mattresses before she realised that she had moved from her seat. In
fact, the only human beings with whom she had perfect freedom were the
dwarfs, who were allowed to do and say what they liked. There were
quantities of them at Court, and one of them, called Luisillo, or
'little Luis,' was a special favourite of the king's. He was a tiny
creature, who had been brought from Flanders, and he might have been
Oberon, king of the Fairies, he was so handsome and well made and so
full of wisdom. He rode a pony which was an exact copy of his master's
horse, and was generally to be seen with him in public and in
processions.
It seems strange that, considering how greatly Marie Louise feared and
disliked her Camarera Mayor, she should have listened to her abuse of
the king's mother, and allowed it to influence her conduct. The
queen-dowager had quite forgotten her disappointment at her son's choice
of a wife, and had given Marie Louise a hearty welcome, even trying to
prevail on the king to alter some of the strictest rules, and allow
Marie Louise a little more amusement and freedom. She did her best, too,
to win her daughter-in-law's confidence, and in spite of the distrust
implanted in her by the old duchess, the queen could not help enjoying
her company, and the story of her experiences when she herself, a bride
younger than Marie Louise, arrived in Spain from Vienna. One of the
places at which she stopped was a town famous for its undergarments, and
a quantity of beautiful petticoats, stockings, and other things were
sent up to the house where she lodged as a wedding present. When they
were unpacked, the major-domo indignantly caught up the parcel of
stockings and flung them back at the astonished citizens. 'Know, then,
that the Queen of Spain has no legs!' he cried, meaning that so sacred a
personage would never need to touch the ground with her feet; but the
archduchess understood the words literally, and shed many secret tears
in her room over a letter to her brother the emperor, saying that if she
had known they were going to cut off her feet she would never, never
have come to this country!
December was now nearly at an end, and the young queen's state entry
into Madrid was fixed for January 13. Notwithstanding the poverty that
was so severely felt, the city was splendidly decorated, and along the
street of the goldsmiths great silver angels were placed, and golden
shields, blazing with jewels. After the trumpeters, the city officers,
the knights of the military orders, the grandees of Spain, and many
more, came the royal procession, headed by the young queen on a grey
Andalusian horse, dressed in a habit that glittered with gold, wearing
round her neck a huge pearl called La Peregrina, or the pilgrim, and
followed by her attendants. Marie Louise loved riding, and was
thoroughly happy on her prancing steed, and felt secretly amused when
she thought of the discomfort of the two noble old widows who rode
behind her in their hideous black clothes, trying, on the one hand, to
keep near the queen, and on the other to prevent their mules from going
faster than they liked—which was very slowly indeed. The naughty young
maids of honour, all splendidly mounted, looked at each other and smiled
at the evident terror of the old ladies, for whom they had no love, and
as they passed along they talked rapidly to each other on the fingers of
one hand, an accomplishment which all Spanish ladies possessed. They
belonged to the noblest families in Spain, and were very pretty and
covered with magnificent jewels; but the prettiest and most gorgeous of
all, the Duke of Alba's daughter, wore an ornament which does not
generally form part of the dress of a young lady. This was a pistol,
slung by a ribbon from her side, and plainly intended for use. Under the
balcony of the Countess of Ognate, where the king and his mother were
stationed, the queen drew rein and looked up. The gilded lattice of the
balcony opened about a hand's breadth, and the face of the king could be
partly seen. He touched with his handkerchief his mouth, his eyes, and
his heart, which was the warmest sign of devotion a Spaniard could give,
and after he had repeated this several times the queen bowed low over
her saddle and continued her way.
Thanks to the queen-mother, and very much to the wrath of the Camarera
Mayor, Marie Louise was sometimes permitted to see the Marquise de
Villars, the French ambassadress, and together they would practise the
language of the fan, which no one but a native-born Spanish woman can
speak properly. Marie Louise would gaze with admiration, too, at the
walk of her maids of honour, so different from that of even the great
ladies of France. Yes, in spite of the hideous clothes they wore, and
the stupid customs which made her life a burden, there was plenty worthy
of praise in her new home, and if only she could get rid of that
terrible old lady-in-waiting, and have a few of her friends about her,
she would soon be perfectly happy. And it was a great thing that she
could go out with the king on the hunting expeditions which he loved! No
queen of Spain had ever done _that_ before, and she owed it to the
queen-mother. To be sure it was rather tiresome to have to drive to the
meet in one of the coaches with shiny green curtains, and, standing on
the step, spring by yourself into the saddle, because it was death to
any man to touch the queen; but by-and-by that might be altered, and
meantime she must have patience. By-and-by it was altered, and she was
allowed to mount at the door. One day a hunt had been arranged, and the
queen grew tired of waiting for the king, who was talking to his
minister on the balcony, and ordered her horse to be brought for her to
mount. The courtyard was full of people, and something must have
frightened the animal, for before the queen had seated herself firmly in
the saddle it reared and threw her on the ground, her foot still in the
stirrup. The horse plunged wildly, and it seemed as if she must be
kicked to death or dashed to pieces. What was to be done? Everyone
looked on in horror, but no one dared stir. Each movement of the horse
might mean death to her, but a finger laid on her body would certainly
mean it to them. Yet it was not a sight that a Spanish gentleman could
bear calmly, and with one impulse Don Luis de Las Torres and Don Jaime
de Soto Major sprang out from the crowd and rushed towards the horse.
One seized it by its bridle and checked its rearing, though it nearly
knocked him down; the other caught the queen's foot and freed it from
the stirrup. Then, the danger to her being over, they turned and fled to
the stables, prepared to ride to the frontier before the penalty could
be enforced. The queen, strange to say, was unhurt, except for bruises,
and had not lost her senses. Unaided she scrambled to her feet, when the
young conde de Peñaranda knelt before her, and implored her to obtain
the pardon of his friends from the king. His Majesty, who by this time
had run down from the balcony, and in great agitation had reached the
queen's side, overheard the count's words, and ordered the two gentlemen
to be summoned before him that he might give them his own thanks and
that of the queen for rescuing a life so dear to him at the peril of
their own. But all this was later, and in 1680 the Queen of Spain had to
mount as best she could from her coach.
[Illustration: Two Spanish gentlemen rescue the Queen]
On the evenings on which they did not go to the theatre she and the king
played at ombre together; but the Spanish cards were almost as thin as
paper, and were painted quite differently from the French, and she had
to learn them all over again. On the days that they did not hunt the
king used often to take her to visit some of the convents, which were
numerous in Spain; but this she disliked more than anything. The nuns
were so stiff and so silent, and she grew so weary of putting questions
to them, to which they only answered 'Yes' or 'No.' Luckily the king
always took two of his dwarfs with him, and _they_ chattered without
fear of anybody; but, even so, the queen was thankful when she was told
that lunch was ready. A roast chicken was always provided for her, and
the king felt rather vexed with her for eating so much and not being
content with the light cakes and fruit that satisfied him. Poor Marie
Louise! as time went on, and the king's health grew weaker and her
pleasures fewer, she became fonder and fonder of sweet things—'dulces'
as they were called—and was always sucking lozenges of some sort while
she played with her dogs, till at length she ended by losing her figure,
though she never lost her beauty. However, now she was only just
married, and did not know the ten weary years that stretched in front of
her before she died, for although the king adored her, he very seldom
allowed her to influence his will or to change any of the iron rules of
custom. She was, indeed, permitted to have an occasional interview with
Madame d'Aulnoy, who was at that time living in Madrid, and has left a
most interesting account of all she saw there. On the first visit she
paid she found Marie Louise in a room covered with mirrors, seated, in a
beautiful dress of pink velvet and silver, close to the window, which
was covered by a gilded lattice and blue silk curtains, so that for
anything she could see outside there might just as well have been no
window at all. The queen jumped up with delight at the sight of her
visitor, to whom she could talk freely about all the gossip from Paris,
of which she only heard in letters from the kind Madame her stepmother.
Of course she knew quite well that the Camarera Mayor hated her to speak
French, which _she_ could not understand, and would be crosser than ever
that evening; but the queen did not care, and when she said good-bye to
her visitor implored her to come again very soon and to bring all her
letters with her. As it happened, the very next day Madame d'Aulnoy
received some particularly interesting ones about the marriage of the
queen's cousin, the Prince de Conti, and wrote to ask if the queen would
like to see it; but the Duchess of Terranova answered that 'Her Majesty
the Queen of Spain never received the same visitor at such short
intervals,' so Madame d'Aulnoy was forced to copy out the description of
the wedding ceremonies, and beg humbly that the lady-in-waiting would
give it to her mistress.
As time wore on the duchess became more and more tyrannical, and the
queen more and more impatient. From her childhood she had always loved
pets of all kinds, and had brought two talking parrots and several
silky-eared spaniels with her to Spain. Her favourite dog always slept
in her room, on a cushion of blue silk, close to the queen's bed; but
one night, instead of sleeping soundly, as it generally did, it got up
and moved restlessly about. The queen heard it, and fearing it might
wake the king, she crept out of bed to bring it back to its place. Now,
in those times, when there were no matches, it was very difficult to get
a light, and unfortunately it was the custom that the Queen of Spain
should sleep in total darkness, except for the fire, which had gone out.
In groping about the huge room after her spaniel the queen upset a
chair, which woke the king, who likewise got up to see if anything was
the matter. At the first step he took he fell over his wife, and struck
his foot against a table, which made him very cross, as she perceived by
the tone of his voice when he asked her what she was doing.
'I was looking for my dog,' she said; 'it was so restless I was afraid
it would wake you.'
'What!' he cried angrily, 'are the king and queen of Spain to leave
their beds because of a miserable little dog!' And as at this moment the
wandering spaniel lurched up against his leg, he gave it a kick which
made it howl violently. Marie Louise stooped down and patted it, and
consoled it, and laid it on its cushion again, while she returned to
bed. Meantime the king, afraid to move lest he should hurt himself more
than he had done already, stood still where he was, and shouted for the
queen's ladies to bring a torch and light the candles, which they did as
fast as possible, and all grew quiet again. But when the queen awoke in
the morning the dog was not on its cushion, neither was anything more
known of it, in spite of the bitter tears the queen shed over its fate.
Soon after this her Majesty was out driving in the afternoon, when the
Camarera Mayor, who had been in a very bad temper for many days,
suddenly ordered the two parrots to be brought to her. The French maids
who had charge of them felt very uncomfortable, but dared not disobey,
and when the birds arrived she wrung their necks with her own hands.
Shortly after the queen came in, and bade her dogs and parrots to be
fetched to amuse her, as she often did when the king was not in the
room, for he did not like animals. The two maids looked at each other,
but did not move.
'Don't you hear me? What is the matter?' asked the queen.
'Oh! Madame!' faltered the maid; and then, bursting into tears,
stammered out the story. The queen's face grew white, but she said
nothing, and sat where she was, thinking. By-and-by the Camarera Mayor
entered, and, as required by etiquette, stooped down to kiss the queen's
hand; but, when she bent over, a stinging pain ran through her, as her
Majesty dealt her a violent slap on each cheek. The duchess staggered
back from surprise as much as from the blow, but her furious words were
checked on her tongue at the sight of the still, pale girl whose face
was so new to her. Leaving the room, she summoned all her relations,
and, choking with anger, she informed them of the insult she had
received; then, accompanied by no less than four hundred kinsfolk, all
belonging to noble families, she went to complain to the king.
[Illustration: The Camarera Mayor gets her ears boxed!]
Now Charles had passed all his life with people who did everything
according to rule, and it took some time for his slow mind to grasp that
a queen of Spain could have so far lost command of herself as to have
administered punishment with her own hands, whatever might have been the
provocation. He rose from his seat with an expression of sternness,
which filled the heart of the cruel and revengeful old woman with
triumph, and made his way to the queen's apartments. But his wrath,
great through it was, melted like snow before the caressing ways of his
wife, and when the duchess entered, certain of victory, she found only
defeat. However, furious though she might be, the Camarera Mayor saw
that she had gone too far, and that unless she wished to drive the queen
to confide in her mother-in-law, she must give her more liberty, and
treat her with greater respect. She really tried to be gentler and more
agreeable, and gave permission to the French ambassadress to visit the
queen oftener; but her prejudices were so strong, and her temper so bad,
that she usually broke her good resolutions. Foreigners she particularly
hated, the French more than any others—and this the queen resented
bitterly; so matters grew worse and worse.
---------------------
After Easter, Charles went, as regulated by custom, to pass a few days
at the palace of the Escorial, which had been built by Philip II. to
commemorate the battle of St. Quentin. Marie Louise found it very dull
when he was away. She could not hunt, or drive, except with the curtains
of the coach closely drawn, the duchess was crosser than ever, and time
hung heavy on her hands. She wrote to her husband daily, and told him
how much she missed him, and asked when he was coming back to Madrid.
The king was always delighted to get her letters, though the effort to
answer them was beyond him. Once, however, when the queen had expressed
herself even more kindly and affectionately than usual, he seized a pen,
and slowly and painfully wrote these words:
'Señora, it is very windy, and I have killed six wolves.'
This he enclosed in a beautiful box of gold and enamel, and sent off by
a messenger.