attendant upon such a lengthened succession of arduous campaigns, and
wearied with political intrigue, now hoped to enjoy that which he had
for years longed for--the society of those so dear to him, from whom he
had been so many years separated. But it was not to be. Quiet happiness
in the evening of his eventful life was not destined to be his lot. His
wife, for whom he had ever shown such strong and unalterable affection,
was a woman thwarted in all her designs--outraged, injured, mortified,
and disgusted with the court and with the world. She was no longer
young, nor possessed of the great attractions which had formerly thrown
a veil over the deformities of her temper, which, always violent, had
now become soured by adversity. She had no indulgence left for others.
Dissatisfied with her friends, her children, and everything about her,
she was disposed to wrangle and dispute on the slightest provocation.
Next came a great affliction--more deeply felt by both, perhaps, than
either the fickleness of the Queen or the virulence of their political
enemies--the death under their own roof at St. Alban's of their
long-tried, attached, and amiable friend, Lord Godolphin. This sad event
determined Marlborough to reside abroad until happier days dawned--their
ungrateful country no longer offering any charms for them. His
long-cherished desire for rural leisure, retirement, and the quiet
enjoyments of private life had ended in disappointment. The master of
wealth and great possessions, palatial edifices rising around him, and
rank, glory, and well-earned honour his own; yet was he the mark of
envy, hatred, and jealousy. Not even could he and the Duchess enjoy and
return the ordinary courtesies of society without incurring observation
and provoking suspicion. His enemies had triumphed, his Queen was cold
and unjust, and now his dearly-loved friend, his adviser and confidant,
the sharer of his sorrows, his consoler and encourager, was no more. A
blight had fallen upon his existence.
Marlborough sailed from Dover to Ostend in October, 1712, and his wife
followed him in a few months afterwards, she having remained behind to
arrange his or her own affairs. The Duke was furnished with a passport,
it is said, by the instrumentality of his early favourite and secret
friend Bolingbroke. His request to see the Queen before his departure
from her dominions was refused; and the apathetic Anne never again saw
her great general, or the woman for whom she once professed so strong an
attachment. When it was told her that both he and the Duchess had left
England, she coolly remarked to the Duchess of Hamilton--"the Duke of
Marlborough has done wisely to go abroad."
Thus was the illustrious soldier, then sixty-two years of age, and the
Duchess in her fifty-second year, driven from their country by the
machinations of a party too strong for them to resist without the
especial favour of the Queen.
BOOK III.
CHAPTER I.
THE PRINCESS DES URSINS--HER DELICATE AND PERILOUS POSITION.
MADAME DES URSINS had long continued fearlessly to face the storm that
growled all around her, and by degrees the horizon showed signs of
clearing. As it often happens in the course of human affairs, the
occupation of the capital by the enemy had an effect contrary to that
which it was very natural to expect. The allies, who had entered Madrid
as conquerors, found within that city none of the elements necessary for
the definitive establishment of the Archduke who was proclaimed amidst a
chilling silence. If the grandees almost to a man evinced their sympathy
for the House of Austria, if the staff of the administration and the
personal machinery of all the public departments, remained at their
posts at the price of an oath which did not seem to cost more in those
days than at present, the populace of Madrid showed an aversion to the
foreigners which soon manifested itself in numerous assassinations. How
could it be otherwise than that the ancient soil of Castile should heave
on finding itself trampled on by the partisans of a loyalty hailed with
acclamation at Saragossa and Barcelona; on witnessing those outbursts of
insolent triumph on the part of the Portuguese, who, in the eyes of
every Spaniard, were still rebels; and the contemptuous phlegm of Lord
Galloway's army, commanded, as it was, by a heretic _condottiere_?
Outside the official spheres, the isolation was therefore complete, and
during that three months' crisis the errant royalty of Philip V.,
represented by his courageous consort, struck indestructible roots in
the hearts of his subjects. The northern shores and the great province
of Andalusia, joining to those divers motives the hatred with which
England inspired the maritime population, resolutely declared for the
House of Bourbon, to such an extent that, beyond the territories of the
ancient realm of Arragon, the moral conquest of the kingdom was very
nearly consummated, despite the foreign occupation, and through the
effect of that very same occupation. The position of the foreigners at
Madrid had never been anything else than provisory; and it was with
transports of joy that the Anglo-Portuguese troops were seen to hastily
evacuate the capital on the approach of another French army, which
advanced through Navarre under the command of the Duke of Berwick.[54]
Philip V. was soon able to re-enter Madrid as a liberator, and a galleon
from Mexico brought him most opportunely a million of crowns. On the
25th of April, 1707, Berwick completely defeated the allies near
Almanza, and the Duke of Orleans covered himself with glory by the
capture of Lerida, which had previously resisted the great Condé.
[54] Natural son of James II. of England, by Arabella Churchill,
sister of the Duke of Marlborough.
The influence of Madame des Ursins became greatly enhanced after these
unhoped-for successes, and both Philip V. and the cabinet of Versailles
equally testified their gratitude to her. She had manifested an
inflexible devotedness in the midst of reverses, and adversity had taken
its full measure of her. Never, throughout the course of her chequered
career, had Madame des Ursins shown more activity than during the six
months which intervened between the return of the Court to Madrid and
the battle of Almanza. Her position was as delicate as it was perilous.
It was necessary to stigmatise flagrant defections, but without driving
anyone altogether to desperation. She profited by the confidence she had
won to bring about happily an important reform. Spain, composed of
divers kingdoms successively annexed, had not yet attained unity. More
than ever, after the experiences of 1706, was seen the necessity of a
centralisation which should re-unite in the hands of the new dynasty the
entire strength of the government, which should extinguish injurious
rivalries between province and province, which should facilitate
administrative relations, and allow of an equal action in the different
parts of the monarchy. Each kingdom hitherto had had its laws, its
customs, its constitution (_fueros_). Already in 1705 certain
restrictions had been imposed by Castile upon Arragon: no more dared be
attempted. The battle of Almanza and the successes of 1707 inspired
still further energy. In the council, the party of Madame des Ursins,
leaning on the assent of Berwick, overcame the opposition of Montellano
and the friends of the old system; and the pragmatic sanction, or
constitution of Castile, became the sole law of Spain.
The victory of Almanza was, in fact, the last service rendered to Philip
V. by his native country. From that day forward, France, menaced upon
its frontiers, constrained to appropriate all its resources to its own
safety, became an obstacle and a permanent peril to Spain. The former
compromised the Spanish monarchy by its military operations, and far
more gravely still by its diplomatic negotiations. In this new phase,
signalised by the almost constant antagonism of the two courts, the
position of Madame des Ursins was one of the most critical nature; but
we are about to see her, with her habitual rectitude of judgment, take
unhesitatingly the part alike dictated by honour as by sound policy.
It was at this juncture that the gravity of events determined Louis XIV.
upon being represented in Spain by his nephew, the Duke of Orleans. That
prince, in two campaigns, had subdued the kingdom of Valentia and the
greatest part of Arragon, after taking fortresses in Catalonia hitherto
deemed impregnable. Inspired by the ambition of the chief of his race,
he had made his military services subservient to the extension of
monarchical authority, and had solemnly abolished, in the name of Philip
V. in Arragon, the anarchical privileges which weakened the royal power
without efficaciously strengthening the liberties of Spain. Distrusted
by those he came ostensibly to defend, and, from the first, an object of
suspicion to Madame des Ursins, still the correspondence of the Princess
with Madame de Maintenon and the Maréchale de Noailles from April, 1707,
to November, 1708, the date of the duke's departure, shows that the
relations of the latter with the _camerara-mayor_ were for a long time
maintained on the best footing, the dissolute habits of the Duke of
Orleans proving less disgusting to Madame des Ursins than the accuracy
of his insight into public affairs appears to have charmed her. The
rupture of this good understanding, which, however, took place silently,
was one among other results greatly to be regretted of the dark intrigue
into which certain obscure agents momentarily led astray the ambition of
Anne of Austria's grandson--a machination the more disastrous to the
prince, whose honour it impugned, than to the King of Spain, who
received no injury from it during the Duke of Orleans' sojourn within
his territories; the movements of Flotte and Renault, his emissaries,
having only assumed some small degree of importance after his departure.
It is a knotty point of history altogether; but the fact is clear that
the Duke was the centre of the faction opposed to the Princess, and that
around him were banded those with whom she had either clashed or whom
she had overcome. The moment was badly chosen for intriguing; to save
the state should have been the sole aim of the Duke of Orleans. The
allies, for an instant discouraged after Almanza, had not lost all hope.
Their successes in Italy and in Germany soon consoled them for that
reverse, and their armies became once more menacing. It was then that
the Duke of Orleans, it is said, conceived the hope, if not of governing
all Spain, at least of obtaining the kingdoms of Murcia, Valentia, and
Navarre. He himself avowed later to the Duke de Saint-Simon that, seeing
Philip V. tottering, "he had allowed himself to indulge the hope of
being put in his place;" hence his double-faced conduct and strange
manoeuvres. He might not have been willing, doubtless, to pull down the
King of Spain with his own hand, but he did not, of course, steadfastly
desire a triumph which marred his own fortunes. That which, however, may
be affirmed with certainty is, that he maintained with different foreign
generals, among others with the Earl of Stanhope, very suspicious
negotiations; that he designedly did all he could to impede the progress
of the Spanish Government, and seemed, in all he did, solely concerned
in not overstepping that loosely-defined line at which treason begins.
However that might be, Madame des Ursins, strenuously opposed to the
policy which the Duke of Orleans desired to see prevail, and moreover
scarcely able to endure the hostile attitude of that Prince, demanded
his recall and obtained it.
After his departure she pursued him in the persons of his two agents,
Renault and Flotte, whom she had arrested. As for his friend, Marshal de
Bezons, whose hasty retreat upon the banks of the Segra excited the
indignation of the Spanish court, he lost his command. She even
denounced the Duke of Orleans to his royal uncle, and the erring nephew
had very great difficulty in escaping a scandalous trial. He was forced,
therefore, to renounce his ambitious hopes with regard to Spain, if ever
he had seriously nourished them. Such an exposure, rendered his return
to the Peninsula impossible. His faction was speedily dispersed. One of
the noblemen with whom he had had very intimate relations, the Duke of
Medina-Coeli, minister for foreign affairs and head of the grandee
party, was suddenly arrested and taken to the Castle of Segovia.
Whether, as Saint Simon intimates, it was that "weary of the yoke of
Madame des Ursins, he desired _pointer de son chef_," whether that,
favourable to the Duke of Orleans, perhaps even to the allies, he had
voluntarily caused the failure of the expedition which the Spanish
government meditated against Sardinia, or whether he had dreamed of an
anti-French reaction, he ended his days in a state prison.
Whilst the government of Philip V., was working its way very laboriously
through that maze of conspiracies and intrigues, the allies regained the
ground which Almanza had lost them. "Despite all the efforts of Madame
des Ursins," wrote the Chevalier du Bourk, her agent, at Versailles,
"matters are going badly at Madrid." France, discouraged and weighed
down, moreover by its own reverses, seemed no longer able to defend
Philip V.; Louis XIV., whatever might have been his secret intentions,
was not willing to appear to support his grandson; the Austrians
thoroughly defeated Philip at Saragossa. The severe winter of 1709 had
brought the general distress to a climax; and the Archduke Charles made
his entrance into Madrid. The court of Versailles became
terror-stricken. Madame de Maintenon, outwearied with this everlasting
strife, changed the tone of her letters to a cold and sometimes ironic
vein. She went so far as to say to the Princess, "It is not agreeable to
us here that women should busy themselves with state affairs."[55] Louis
XIV., himself, advised his grandson to abandon Spain in order to keep
Italy.
[55] Recueil de M. Geffroy, p. 395.
Madame des Ursins had thus to choose between the French policy, imposed
upon Louis XIV. by cruel necessity, and the Spanish policy, for which
Philip V. was resolved to die. On one hand, the young mother, who had
just confided to her care an infant son she had conceived in anguish,
appealed most touchingly to her attachment and courage; on the other,
Madame de Maintenon, whose sole solicitude was to insure repose to Louis
XIV., by plucking out one after another all the thorns from his crown,
reminded her that she was born a Frenchwoman, and that she owed too much
to the Great King to arrogate to herself the right of contradicting him.
A subject of Louis XIV., did she dare combat at Madrid the plans decided
upon at Versailles? The governess of the heir to the crown of Spain,
could she concur by her advice in despoiling the infant whose first
caresses she was receiving? Madame des Ursins could only escape by a
prompt departure from the difficulties of such an alternative.
Incontestable facts prove that she so understood her position, and that
she was fully determined to quit Spain towards the close of 1709; but
the despair of the Queen, the state of whose health at that time gave
but too serious grounds for alarm, alone hindered her from following out
a project which promised more flattering results than any other in the
deep depression into which the resolves of France had plunged her.
Madame des Ursins had no sooner taken the resolution of remaining upon
the theatre of events, and of sustaining the King of Spain in the noble
career to which his conscience and the national will alike bound him,
than she threw herself headlong into the _mêlée_, caring nothing more
for the Versailles policy, and burning her ships with a boldness of
which her gentleness of character seemed to have rendered her incapable.
Her epistolary style undergoes also a marked change, and rises with the
loftiness of her part and character. In reproaching Madame de Maintenon
for preferring the King's ease to that of his honour, she launches
shafts against her which, though tipped with elegance, are none the less
sharp-pointed, sometimes in the shape of studied reproaches, but more
frequently still with the spontaneous overflowings of a towering wrath.
The writer then reveals herself from beneath the guise of the woman of
the world, and it is clearly seen that in that encompassed life the
heart has for a moment triumphed over the intelligence.
Madame des Ursins alone, however, remained unshaken. She might well
have, it is true, some moments of misgiving; such as when she wrote to
Madame de Noailles, "I have foreseen, for a long time, the precipice
over which they would hurl us, and to the brink of which we ourselves
are hurrying, and I know not, by Heaven, who can save us from it." With
admirable eloquence she encouraged Madame de Maintenon, who appeared to
despair of the divine protection; and she inspired Philip V. with an
energy truly worthy of the throne, shown in that noble letter in which
the King of Spain declared to his grandfather "that, in spite of the
misfortune which confronted him, he would never abandon his subjects."
Madame des Ursins in all probability dictated the phraseology, and all
the glory of it resulted from her firmness.
She thoroughly comprehended that it became sovereigns worthy of their
position to speak loftily, were it from the depth of an abyss, and that
that supreme courage is itself the first indication of a return of good
fortune. She soon found that it was so; for from the moment that the
King's cause seemed to be lost, the animosities of the grandees gave way
before their patriotism. Whether they were at length inspired by so much
energy, whether the expulsion of the French from every post throughout
the state, decreed by Philip V. under the advice of Madame des Ursins,
had well disposed their minds, "almost all, by a sudden awakening of
chivalrous fidelity," submitted to the House of Bourbon. The Archduke
awaited in vain their homage and their oaths. At the moment of his
entrance into the capital, curiosity itself failed to attract any one to
cross his path; a solitude and sullen gloom pervaded all the public
places. He did not even proceed so far as the royal palace, but went out
by the Alcala gate, muttering, "It is a deserted city."
Without hesitation, therefore, Madame des Ursins placed herself at the
head of the national movement, seeking to pluck the safety of Spain from
the very abandonment in which France had left that monarchy. Without
breaking off confidential relations with her usual correspondents at
Versailles, she enveloped them in the thickest possible veil, her sole
idea being to stimulate Castilian patriotism, appearing to adopt
everything Spanish from its popular costumes, even to its hatreds and
its prejudices. By the aid of a _sombrero_ and a _gollil_[56] Don Luis
d'Aubigny had become a perfect _caballero_; the like transformation
being effected throughout the entire staff of the palace household, and
shortly afterwards a very decided step characterised the novel attitude
assumed by Philip and his court. Madame des Ursins, who reckoned her
chief enemies amongst the monarch's French household, decided that
prince upon the dismissal in mass of all his non-Spanish domestics--an
unexpected resolve which produced an immense sensation on both sides of
the Pyrenees; because, whilst subserving a personal vengeance skilfully
dissimulated, it gave sanction to a policy the harshness of which was
pushed even to ingratitude.
[56] A sort of collar.
To throw Philip V. into the arms of the Spaniards, was to flatter alike
the democracy and the grandees. To the populace Madame des Ursins
presented, amidst the most fervent benediction, the Prince of Asturias;
to the grandees, of whom she had long been the declared enemy, she
caused to be given a striking proof of the royal confidence. The Duke de
Bedmar, appointed to the ministry of war, was charged with the
organization of the new levies, and the direction of the troops in all
parts of the kingdom. To transform the grandson of Louis XIV. into a
peninsula king was to furnish the best argument to the partisans of
peace, already numerous in the British parliament. On the other hand,
that same policy could not very seriously disquiet the cabinet of
Versailles. The King knew that he might count upon every sacrifice from
the respectful attachment of his grandson, save that of the throne; and
although he had adhered officially to the principle of the dispossessing
of Philip V., he could not regret, either as sovereign or as grandsire,
the obstacles which the more resolute attitude of Spain then opposed to
the enemies of the two crowns. Louis XIV. therefore continued,
notwithstanding his diplomatic engagements, to secretly assist in the
Peninsula what might be called the party of _fara da se_. Madame des
Ursins had recovered her influence at Versailles from the moment at
which it was found necessary to depend, in order to prolong the
struggle, rather upon the military resources of Spain than upon those of
France at bay. To impart more gravity to the national movement, to which
she gave the impulse in order to remain the moderatrix, she had required
the recall of Amelot, who had long assumed at Madrid the attitude of a
prime minister rather than that of an ambassador; and Louis XIV.,
deferring to that wish, had replaced that experienced agent by a simple
_chargé d'affaires_. Orry was in like manner sacrificed, despite his
invaluable services; but, at the same time that she gave satisfaction by
the withdrawal of her friends in deference to the popular
susceptibilities, the Princess earnestly implored that the Duke de
Vendôme might be sent to take command of the Spanish forces; and Louis
XIV., on his part, at the moment that he was compelled to withdraw from
Spain the last French soldier, despatched thither the general who was
destined to save his grandson's crown.
Arriving in Spain sometime during the summer of 1710, Vendôme displayed
an activity which did not seem to comport with his habits, in order to
reunite and arm the volunteers, who, from the summit of the Sierras,
descended in swarms upon the plains of the two Castiles at the summons
of a monarch become the personification of a patriot. He speedily
transformed into a powerful and well-trained army the undisciplined
_guerillas_ whose bravery had hitherto been useless; in a few months,
the Anglo-Austrian army, at the head of which the prince who called
himself Charles III. had been able to show himself for a few hours in
the deserted capital, was confronted by disciplined troops prepared to
retake territories which until then had not been seriously disputed.
Under the irresistible impulse of a noble patriotism which had at last
recovered itself, the English force of Lord Stanhope capitulated at
Brihuega after a terrible carnage, and Stahrenberg, crushed in his turn
at Villaviciosa, carried away by his flight the last hopes of the House
of Austria.
By the victory of Villaviciosa the House of Bourbon was definitively
seated on the throne of Charles the Fifth. Philip V. slept that night
(10th December, 1710) upon a couch of standards taken from the enemy:
the Austrian cause was lost; and Madame des Ursins, who, in spite of
Europe coalesced, in spite of Louis XIV. hesitating and disquieted, in
spite of so many disasters, had never trembled, received the title of
HIGHNESS, and saw her steadfast policy at length crowned by accomplished
facts.
Spain had thus solved by her own efforts solely the great question which
had kept Europe so long in arms. At the commencement of 1711, Philip V.
had acquired for his throne a security that Louis XIV. had not yet
obtained for the integrity of his own frontiers, and without mistaking
the influence of the victory of Denain, so wonderfully opportune, it is
just, we think, to allow a far larger share than is customary to the
thoroughly Spanish victory of Villaviciosa in the unhoped-for conditions
obtained by France at the peace of Utrecht.
CHAPTER II.
THE PRINCESS'S SHARE IN THE TREATY OF UTRECHT.
IF the new ministry of Queen Anne succeeded in inducing the English
nation to support the treaty of Utrecht, that was nothing less than to
prove undeniably, without fear of contradiction, that the establishment
of the French dynasty in the Peninsula had there acquired the authority
of a fact irrevocably accomplished. The resuscitation of the Spanish
nation had, therefore, a decisive effect upon European affairs; and
whilst, by leaving France almost intact, the treaties of Utrecht had
parcelled out the monarchy of the catholic kings, the authors of the
great popular movement crowned by the victory of Villaviciosa might
consider without prejudice their country as sacrificed, notwithstanding
the weight which it had flung into the scales.
In this work Madame des Ursins had had certainly a very considerable
share, and it was with a very legitimate pride that through it she was
enabled to prevail at Versailles as at Madrid. A perseverance unexampled
both in idea and conduct, a rare suppleness in the means, had made her
the principal instrument of an enterprise in which a virile ambition,
united to a deep devotedness, sustained her. Undismayed by reverses,
never intoxicated by success, she tempered by her equanimity the at
times imprudent ardour of the young Queen, and reanimated by her
firmness the frequent retrocessions of her morose consort. She
rejoiced, therefore, with a scarcely veiled pride in that security for
the future which Spain had conquered before France, and in her
correspondence with Madame de Maintenon her letters began to assume a
somewhat protective tone. It was at this culminating point of her
greatness that fate was preparing to inflict upon her the humiliating
catastrophe which again obscured the remembrance of her services and
even the honour of her name.
It is unnecessary to recapitulate the means by which peace was
re-established, how the fall of the Whig ministry and the elevation of
the Archduke to the imperial throne after the death of Joseph I. brought
England and the other allied powers into the treaties which confirmed
Philip V. in the peaceable possession of the Spanish monarchy. We will
not dwell upon these details, nor upon divers acts of interior policy
which followed upon the victory of Villaviciosa. Let us confine our
attention solely to those in which the Princess des Ursins took an
active part. The first was the pursuance of the administrative
centralisation of which we have spoken; the abolition of the council
exclusively called the Council of Castile, for which she caused to be
substituted a council of state, the members of which should be chosen
from every part of Spain, and which became the centre of the government.
The second was a reform in the finance department; Orry being in these
measures the Princess's instrument, and he justified the long-continued
esteem with which she had honoured his talents. It was thus that after
having successively saved the monarchy from a policy exclusively French,
and from the factious pretensions of the grandees, after having
contributed to the defeat of Austria, Madame des Ursins sought to
consolidate on firm bases the power of Philip V. and prepare a happier
future for Spain.
She was not destined, however, to long enjoy the fruits of her triumph.
It was a symptomatic sign of this new phase of her life, the universally
unfavourable interpretation given to an affair which should rather be
looked upon in the light of a check than of a fault. It is well known
that Philip, desirous of recognising the devotedness of his son's
governess, and of assuring to that noble lady an independent position
which should not be below her birth, had stipulated, at the time of the
preliminaries of peace, for the reservation of a territory in the
Spanish low countries ceded to Austria, which he destined to form into a
sovereignty for Marie Anne de la Trémouille. This negotiation, which
bore successively upon the county of Limbourg and the small seigniory of
La Roche-en-Ardennes, had been received at first at Versailles with the
most entire approbation, for the reproach of "_playing the queen_" only
occurred as an after-thought. The gratitude of their Catholic Majesties
was found to be quite natural, and was warmly praised, especially by
Madame de Maintenon. It is not at all to be wondered at, consequently,
if Madame des Ursins should blandly contemplate such a prospect,
especially in anticipation of the approaching demise of her well-beloved
protectress, who could not fail to be soon replaced in the confidence
and couch of her consort. The Court of France did not change its opinion
until that affair of La Roche, very annoyingly taken by the Dutch, had
become the occasion of a delay in the signing of the general peace. Then
Madame des Ursins was overwhelmed by reproaches on all sides, and those
which came from Saint Cyr were of a peculiarly acrimonious character,
which we must not join the Duke de Saint Simon in attributing to a
jealousy of which there exists no trace, but which is explained by
Madame de Maintenon's desire to secure repose to Louis XIV. at any cost.
These reproaches, moreover, were without foundation, for the accusers of
the Princess should have considered that, if France had the right to
await with lively impatience the signature of a treaty which secured to
her almost all her conquests, it was quite otherwise with Spain, called
upon by that same treaty to pay alone the costs of the pacification. The
measures of 1713, the conclusion of which was in fact retarded for a few
months by the interest and intervention of Madame des Ursins, had been
received with a very natural indignation in the monarchy of Charles V.,
from which they tore away the Milanese, the Two Sicilies, Sardinia, the
Low Countries, Port Mahon, and Gibraltar. So France can now easily
decide whether it had been in 1815 an unpardonable crime in her eyes to
cause by a dilatory question the adjournment of the signing of the
treaties of Vienna.
That check was the first in a series of misfortunes which death alone
was henceforward destined to bring to a close. Early in 1714 died very
suddenly, at the age of twenty-six, Marie Louise of Savoy, her delicate
frame worn out by an ardent temperament, which had sustained it whilst
the storm raged, and which declined when the breath of the hurricane had
ceased to kindle it further. The remains of the young Queen had scarcely
descended into the vaults of the Escurial ere the nation demanded to
know who was to be the new queen-consort; and the same question was
addressed to Madame des Ursins by the Court of Versailles, so well were
known there both the requirements and the austerity of the King of
Spain. What passed during the eight months of that widowhood so
painfully borne? What mysteries did the Medina Coeli palace witness, in
which Madame des Ursins shut up closely Philip V. from the gaze of every
prying eye? Such questions can never now be answered with certainty, for
the reports put into circulation in France by Saint Simon and Duclos, in
Italy by Poggiali, and in England by Fitz-Maurice, had their common
source in the conversations of Alberoni, one of the least scrupulous
actors in the drama of the _Quadruple Alliance_. Did the elderly
_camerara mayor_, already three-score and ten, dare to spread alluring
snares wherein to entrap an amorous prince of thirty? And did such
tentative, more strange than audacious, succeed to the extent of binding
Philip's conscience in some way? History will never answer the question.
Instead, therefore, of hazarding conjectures, it will be well to confine
our attention to the well-authenticated political acts of the Princess
at this, to her, serious conjuncture.
In losing her royal mistress, the powerful favourite lost along with her
the greatest portion of her strength. It was the remote signal which
heralded her fall. At the same time it did not appear that her energy
had become diminished, or her intelligence clouded, but that her
ordinary prudence had abandoned her. Perhaps, having attained such an
elevation, she dreaded no further reverse, and believed herself secure
enough, in the universal esteem and admiration in which she was held, to
venture upon anything. However that might be, as though her brain had
grown dizzy, she destroyed with her own hands, not her skilfully raised
political edifice, but the structure of her individual fortunes.
Her first imprudence was to attack the Spanish Inquisition. Spain was
not then ripe for that reform accomplished only a century later. Much
less, as it appears to us, should Madame des Ursins, under the influence
of a preconceived religious opinion, with the object of strengthening
the royal authority, have attempted its sudden suppression. Far be it
from us, certainly, to think of defending the Spanish Inquisition. But
it cannot be denied that that institution had vigorously defended Philip
V., and in the eyes of the people was part and parcel, as it were, of
Spain itself. It seemed as though French ideas alone demanded such a
reform, and hence popular suspicion was excited. The Princess failed in
her attempt; but she had voluntarily created for herself a host of
enemies, who from that moment laboured to effect her ruin.
We have already said that, cherishing the hope of obtaining for herself
an independent sovereignty, the difficulties arising from her
pretensions had delayed the conclusion of the treaty of peace. Louis
XIV. was indignant at finding his negotiations fettered and himself
involved in an unavoidable opposition to the wishes of his grandson. As
for Madame de Maintenon, whether the interests of France, compromised by
these delays, had alone provoked her resistance, or whether, as Saint
Simon declares, that that independent sovereignty which she herself felt
was so little beyond her reach offended her pride by making her feel the
distance between their several ranks and births, she opposed the desire
of her old friend, and peace was concluded by the authority of Louis
XIV. But the King had a grudge against the Princess for having driven
him to such extremity. Besides, just then his own dynasty had been
fatally stricken. The Duke of Burgundy and his eldest son, the Duke of
Brittany, had died. The heir to the throne was an infant only three
years old. The Court foresaw the Regency of the Duke of Orleans, a
personal enemy of Madame des Ursins, and it was dangerous, by leaving
her at the head of affairs in Spain, to prepare, probably, for the
future a disastrous rivalry.
The storm thus darkened thickly over the head of this imperious woman,
who, supported against her enemies so long as she had been useful, was
subject to the common law of favourites, and began to totter when she
appeared no longer so. One resource remained to her--to remarry Philip
V. She was anxious to find a consort who could replace in her interests
Marie Louise, and restore her waning influence. Her incertitude was
great: she felt truly that in spite of past services her future fate
depended upon her choice. At length she cast her eyes upon Elizabeth
Farnese, daughter of the last Duke of Parma, and niece of the then
existent Duke, and thought that gratitude for such an extraordinary turn
of fortune would for ever secure the attachment of a princess who,
without her influence, could never have had pretensions to such an
union. But she was anxious to ascertain whether Elizabeth Farnese was
one of those who would submit to be ruled, and she opened her mind upon
the subject to a man then obscure but afterwards celebrated--Alberoni,
who had been sent as consular agent from Parma to Madrid. He had
frequent conversations with the great favourite, and readily succeeded
in insinuating himself into her good graces. He described the Princess
of Parma as simple minded, religious, ignorant of the world from which
she had always lived secluded--in short, perfectly fitting to forward
the design of the Princess. In making such statements he reckoned at the
same time upon pleasing his own Court, and bringing about the fall of
Madame des Ursins; for he knew well that Elizabeth, whose character was
very different from that which he had represented, would not submit to
be governed by any one. Dazzled, therefore, with the smiling vista which
chance had so unexpectedly opened to him, and understanding all the
importance which he might derive from the negotiation of such marriage,
and finding, moreover, Madame des Ursins well disposed beforehand
towards him, and, by a singular blindness, inclined to put implicit
confidence in one whose interest it was to conceal the truth, he
secretly set off for Parma on his delicate mission. By this first move
the Princess's game was lost.
CHAPTER III.
THE PRINCESS FRIENDLESS IN SPAIN.
IT was the peculiar misfortune of Madame des Ursins to scarcely meet
with a single sincere friend in Spain: she was submitted to there,
rather than accepted. She had been sought after through interest or fear
rather than through sympathy; but especially since the Queen's decease,
since no one save herself was seen by the King's side, and that the
strokes of her power were dealt without any apparent intermediator, she
was no longer tolerated, save with infinite difficulty. Neither can it
be concealed that, at this period, she had not acted in a way to
diminish the number of her enemies, or to conciliate them. She was of
opinion that the Duke of Berwick had not sufficiently defended her at
Versailles against their machinations: she broke with him in 1714,
before he returned from Catalonia. She did her utmost to have Tessé
chosen to replace him, whom she pronounced quite capable of taking
Barcelona; and, on learning that Berwick was nevertheless appointed, she
hastened to banish Ronquillo, for something he had uttered against the
Government, but in reality because he was the intimate friend of that
general.[57] Two nobles were also imprisoned at this time--Don Manuel de
Sylva, commandant of the galleys of Sicily, already temporarily exiled
in 1709 for having (so said the sentence) "spoken ill of her," and Don
Valerio d'Aspetia, Lieutenant-General. Both were declared enemies of
Madame des Ursins, and the first had moreover the fault of being closely
connected with the Duke d'Uzeda. Valerio d'Aspetia died in prison, at
the age of seventy, and after fifty years of service, a lamentable loss,
and which involved that of his still young and lovely wife, whose days
were cut short through grief and poverty. Besides all this, must be
noticed a suspicious jealousy of domination over Philip V., which was
fearfully developed when that prince found himself a widower, and which
betrayed itself in very disagreeable actions.
[57] Memoirs of Saint Philippe, tom. iii., p. 88.
Saint Simon tells us that, after the death of Marie Louise of Savoy,
Madame des Ursins usually supped with the King, and had him transferred
from the palace of the Buen-Retiro, in which the Queen had died, to that
of Medina Coeli. There she caused a corridor to be constructed, leading
from the King's cabinet to the apartments of the young princes, wherein
she was lodged; and it was not, as may be imagined, to facilitate
communications between a bereaved father and his children, who had
become doubly dear to him, but, according to our authority, in order
that it might never be known whether the King was alone or with her. She
was in such haste to see this secret passage completed, that, to the
great scandal of Catholic Spain, she had the work carried on during
Sundays and saints' days as well as upon ordinary days. This was pushed
to such an extent, that a great number of pious persons no less than
thrice asked Father Robinet, the most exemplary of the confessors Philip
V. ever had, if he were not aware of such unlawful labour, and when it
was that he intended it should cease. To which the subtle Jesuit, who
was unwilling to be accused of laxity in morals, replied that the King
had not spoken to him upon the subject, alluding to his relations with
Philip as his Confessor, in which relation alone he wished it to be
understood that he was to be considered--always adding, for their
satisfaction, that if he had been consulted in the matter, he would not
have failed to say that, to complete that criminal corridor, work should
never have been so permitted, but that to effect its destruction, the
labourers might have worked at it even on Easter Day.[58]
[58] Mémoires de Saint Simon, tom. xx., p. 171, 172.
This statement of Saint Simon, quite insupportable as it is, would
nevertheless leave subsisting, in the melancholy position of the
children and their father, a means of justification to Madame des
Ursins, did not Duclos deprive her of it; and who, less charitable than
the authority whom he generally cites when treating of this celebrated
woman, tells us purely and simply that she desired to facilitate the
communication of her own apartments with those of the King, which leaves
ample room for slander and suspicion. He goes still further. Improving
upon Saint Simon, and showing himself better acquainted with the
particulars than the Duke, he mentions a very aggravating fact, which
was, that, in order to construct that very suspicious means of
communication, it was necessary to demolish a monastery of Capuchins,
and that in consequence "dead bodies were disinterred, the Holy
Sacrament dislodged from the church, the monks quitting it in
procession, amidst exclamations of "Oh, sacrilege! Oh, profanation!"
from all Madrid."[59]
[59] Memoirs of Duclos (Petitot's Collection), tom. i., p. 230.
Happily, Duclos is merely in this the servile copyist of a Spanish
author, whose contradictions and bad feeling it would be very easy to
expose. He has reproduced word for word the version to be found in the
_Mémoires sur l'Espagne_, printed as a sequel to the letters of
Fitz-Maurice. What! to make a simple corridor from one apartment to
another, nothing less was required than to demolish an entire monastery,
large as they were, in Spain especially, with its church and everything
devoted to its religious purposes, and the dwellings of the monks? And
Saint Simon knew nothing of all this? For, had he known it, most
assuredly he would not have failed to fling it in the face of Madame des
Ursins. That the Marquis de Saint Philippe, who was upon the spot, a man
so religious, and who could not endure Madame des Ursins, should say not
one word, without fear of derogating from his customary gravity, of that
impious scandal, of such a Vandalism as had revolted all Madrid! We
think that if M. Duclos had better informed himself upon the point and
of the source whence he derived it, he, too, would have complained of
exaggeration, and would not have given it out as a fact.
The part played by Madame des Ursins would assuredly have been grander
if she had herself renounced the regal boon proffered by Philip V., as
soon as it promised to be an obstacle to the pacification of Europe; if
she had preferred the general good to her own particular advantage, and
sustained her lofty character to the end, she would have preserved by so
doing the prestige of grandeur and disinterestedness which had
constantly surrounded her. A love of power would have been pardoned in
her, always foreign to considerations of personal advantage; and, as
ambition, like other human passions, may become a source of crime,
though it is not itself a crime, in her case it would have been praised,
because she would have unceasingly shunned the vanity which lessens it,
the self-interest which debases it, and that continual recurrence to
egotism which travesties it in intrigue. But she failed to crown her
career by that true glory. Seeing the King and Queen of Spain very much
offended at the retrograde step of Louis XIV., she further irritated
them by her peevish attitude and marked discontent. The Marquis de
Brancas, sent by Louis into Spain, proceeded to represent the articles
of the Treaty of Utrecht to Philip V. in such wise as the Emperor and
his allies wished them to stand; Philip replied that he would not sign
them, unless there was a special clause added in favour of Madame des
Ursins. That ambassador returned furious, crying out against the Spanish
Government, and especially against Madame des Ursins, who directed
everything, he said, and who had played at cross-purposes in order to
cause his mission to miscarry. He succeeded in drawing down upon the
Court of Madrid the heavy rebuke of Louis XIV. This, however, proved
altogether useless; for Philip persisted in his resolution, and
contented himself with sending the Cardinal del Guidice to his
grandfather, whilst Madame des Ursins employed with the same monarch the
customary influence of Madame de Maintenon. The latter, in fact, so the
Marquis de Saint Philippe tells us, made excuses for Madame des Ursins
to Louis XIV., and the other advocate of the Court of Madrid obtained
the order for the march of the troops destined for the siege of
Barcelona, whose success, looked upon as certain, ought likewise to
render the Austrians more disposed to treat upon the question of her
principality.
But that was not the only expedient employed by Madame des Ursins. The
English ambassador, Lord Lexington, besides Gibraltar and Port Mahon,
relied upon obtaining for the English a free trade in the brandies of
Tarragon; this the Princess conceded to him. He desired also that they
might be allowed to construct, upon the River de la Plata, a fort for
their protection, and as a depôt for negroes, in order that in future
they might alone supply the Spanish colonies with slaves: this monopoly
was also accorded. In return, Lord Lexington signed a convention with
her, in which Queen Anne "_engaged to secure her a sovereignty_."[60] At
such price the adhesion of England seemed secured. She reckoned also on
obtaining that of Holland by analogous commercial advantages, and, in
fact, she obtained them. But how to win back Louis XIV. was the
question! For that she had a secret project, which, as she thought,
ought to rehabilitate her in that monarch's eyes, in representing her as
guided by a love of France more than by vanity. Louis XIV. was not to
derive any territorial advantage from the Treaty of Utrecht. But Madame
des Ursins was desirous so soon as the cession was made of the said
principality of giving it up immediately to that King, in exchange for
an equivalent life-interest in Touraine, within French territory. With
that view she had a clause inserted in the letters-patent of Philip V.,
empowering her to alienate during her lifetime that principality in
whatever way she chose. Such was her design; and that it had evidently
been divined by the sagacious Madame de Maintenon would appear from the
following passage in a letter of about that date addressed to the
Princess: "Side by side with all your merits, you have _a concealed
project_, which, if I guess aright, has got the uppermost of all those
qualities."[61]
[60] So runs the textual engagement of Queen Anne, taken from the
Royal Archives of the Hague, and communicated to M. Geffroy.
[61] Lettres de Madame de Maintenon et de Madame des Ursins, tom.
ii., pp. 7, 8.
But that was just what the allies most feared. The faculty given to
Madame des Ursins in Philip's deed of gift had made them suspect that
intention of a surrender or an exchange, and they were on the watch for
everything which might arise to support their suppositions. In such
conjuncture, Madame des Ursins was wanting, as it appears to us, in
prudence and address. Instead of postponing, until the cession had
become an accomplished fact, the question of the exchange, she pursued
the two objects simultaneously. To negotiate the second with Torcy, she
sent D'Aubigny secretly to France, and the latter, after some overtures,
gave her hopes of entire success. Transported with delight, she gave
herself up to all the illusions of what the future had in store for her
of happiness. She was not, therefore, destined to descend either in rank
or honours after quitting the Court of Madrid. Here she had ruled
beneath the shadow of a phantom King; there she would command directly
and in person. In Spain, she had only been a subordinate; in France she
would have no superior, and would be more mistress of herself. All these
satisfactions were increased a hundredfold by the proud feeling of
returning to her native country as a sovereign princess, in a state so
strictly levelled by royalty, wherein no one would have a condition
equal to her own, and in which she would display with jesting
haughtiness the pomp inseparable from her title before her abashed
enemies. She had so much faith in the hopes with which d'Aubigny
inspired her, and by which that cunning favourite thought perhaps
already to profit, that she instructed him to go into Touraine and to
purchase land in the neighbourhood of Amboise whereon to erect a
chateau, which should be called the manor of Chanteloup.[62] It was
something like selling the skin of the bear before slaying her bruin;
but with the formal and written engagement of England, with the support
of Holland, which she also had, with Louis XIV., whom she sought to win
back through the influence of Madame de Maintenon, and by the calculated
nobleness of her intentions, she would overcome the resistance of
Austria, and her victory was certain.
[62] Mémoires de Saint Simon, tom. xviii., p. 104.
Unfortunately, that which she ought to have anticipated actually came to
pass. England first discovered the occult negotiations of d'Aubigny at
Versailles, and, unwilling that the Princess des Ursins should bestow
anything upon France, she changed her tone, and became almost a
defaulter to her. A Valentian gentleman, Clemente Generoso, says Duclos,
still copying textually from Fitz-Maurice, blamed Lord Lexington, whose
agent and interpreter he had been from the beginning of the war, for
having committed the Queen of England so far to Madame des Ursins, and
advised him to tear up the convention.[63] By the intervention of that
lady, England had obtained all it required, and the written consent of
Philip V. rendered the concessions irrevocable; there was no danger,
therefore, of want of good faith on the part of Madame des Ursins.
[63] Memoirs of Duclos, tom. i., p. 190.
The towering rage of the latter may be imagined when she heard this
news. She made the most earnest entreaties to Queen Anne not to abandon
her. All that she could obtain was that that Princess "would use her
good offices" to procure her the object of her desires. An elastic and
somewhat embarrassing promise of protection was substituted for a formal
and signed engagement, which bound Queen Anne to the interests of Madame
des Ursins as to those of a contracting power. The English had tricked
her; they had surpassed her in cunning. A short time afterwards, if we
may believe Fitz-Maurice and his Spanish interlocutors, she made
Clemente Generoso pay dearly for his evil counsel. One day when he was
returning from London to Madrid, with instructions for Lord Lexington,
some Irishmen, in the service of Philip V., attacked him, and, as he was
endeavouring to take refuge in a church, they killed him, conformably to
the orders which they had received, it is said, from the Princess des
Ursins and Orry.
We only give this statement, be it well understood, under reservation,
because nowhere else have we found any confirmation or even indication
of it. But thus much is certain, that the chances which Madame des
Ursins had on the part of the Queen of England were greatly diminished,
and that it was necessary to look elsewhere for more reliable aid. She
quickly despatched, therefore, her favourite d'Aubigny to Utrecht.
"But," says Saint Simon, "_c'était un trop petit Sire_; he was not
admitted beyond the antechambers." But Saint Simon often falls into
error through excessive contempt for those below his own level. By
certain documents recently discovered at the Hague and communicated to
M. Geffroy, it may be seen that the members of the congress of Utrecht
deliberated with d'Aubigny, and that they designated him _the
plenipotentiary_ of Madame des Ursins. However that may be, d'Aubigny
did not obtain much; in fact, he spoilt everything by offering the Dutch
greater advantages than had been accorded to the English. So the latter
at least pretended, in order, no doubt, to have a pretext for wholly
abandoning Madame des Ursins and for resuming their haughty attitude
towards her, after having courted her for awhile. Queen Anne feigned, in
fact, to be hurt that the Dutch had been more favoured than her own
subjects, and exclaimed, with a readiness that betrayed an inward
satisfaction: "Since the Princess des Ursins has recourse to others, I
abandon her."[64] D'Aubigny, as the sole result, obtained only vague
hopes on the part of the Dutch, who were as inimical as the English as
to any exchange with France.
[64] Memoirs of Duclos, tom. i., p. 191.
Without being angry with her "man of business," whom she allowed even to
return to Amboise to complete the erections already begun, Madame des
Ursins selected, to continue the negotiations, a more important
personage--a young nephew of Madame de Noailles, named de Bournonville,
Baron de Capres. But he covered himself with ridicule at this game of
private intrigue rather than real diplomatic negotiation; and,
notwithstanding all the trouble he took, he obtained nothing by it, "the
gratitude of Madame des Ursins excepted, who made Philip V. give him the
Golden Fleece, the rank of grandee, the Walloon company of the
bodyguard--everything, in fact, he could desire."[65]
[65] MS. Letters of the Baron de Capres to Mad. des Ursins, xxxi.,
xxxii.
The successive check of her two diplomatists was not, however, a
sufficient warning to Madame des Ursins. Ever in pursuit of a position,
which had become nothing more than a chimera after having served as a
lure on the part of the English, she relied for success upon the
persistent and obstinate will of Philip V., who made it a question of
_amour propre_ for himself as much as a just recompense for Madame des
Ursins. It was under these circumstances that this Prince refused to
sign the treaty of Utrecht, that treaty which Louis XIV. had signed and
sealed with his own royal hand, and engaged to make him accept it, even
though the allied powers should not grant him what he desired to
bequeath to Madame des Ursins.[66] Such a firm attitude proved plainly
enough that there was good reason for reliance upon him.
[66] Memoirs of Duke of Berwick, tom. ii., pp. 164-169.
But this affair "hung up" the peace, to use Saint Simon's phrase--the
peace that Louis XIV. could now sign, because it was honourable. His
displeasure was extreme. It was all very well for Madame des Ursins to
say that she had nothing to do with the matter, that the King of Spain
was only following his own inclination, and that after all she despised
the malevolent designs of his enemies; still the delay experienced in
the conclusion of the general peace was imputed to her. She was accused
of occupying herself too exclusively with her own interests, and of
placing in the scales the repose of Europe entire: it was said that she
abused Philip's good-nature, and that she ought not to have availed
herself of her ascendancy over that conscientious prince save to release
him from his promise, to free him from all trammel, and incline him
towards the wishes of his grandfather.
It was from the French ministry that these complaints came, and Torcy,
so greatly humiliated in 1704, at length had his revenge. Madame de
Maintenon herself made remarks upon her, based upon the same motives;
only that she threw more form into them, contenting herself with giving
the Princess to infer that of which the others did not spare her the
harshest expression. "You have good reason to let folks chatter;" she
wrote, "_provided that you have nothing to reproach yourself with_....
for, you must know, we here look upon the treaty of Spain with Holland,
such as it is, as equally necessary, _as you think it shameful at
Madrid_.... Make up your mind, therefore, Madam, and do not allow it to
be said _that you are the sole cause of the prolongation of the war_. I
cannot believe it, and think it very scandalous that others should."[67]
[67] Letters of Madame des Ursins to Madame de Maintenon, tom. ii.,
7th Aug., 1713; 3rd Sept., 1713; 16th June, 1714.
But these warnings and exhortations, imparted with such delicate tact,
had no more effect at Madrid than the harsh severity of the ministerial
reprimands. Louis XIV. then made his solemn voice heard. "Sign," said
he, tartly, to his grandson, "or no aid from me. Berwick is on his march
for Barcelona--I will recall him; then I will make peace privately with
the Dutch and with the Emperor; I will leave Spain at war with those two
powers, and I will not mix myself up further in any of your affairs,
because I do not choose, for the private interest of Madame des Ursins,
to defer securing the repose of my people, and perhaps plunge them into
fresh sufferings."[68]
[68] Mémoires de Saint Philippe, tom. iii., p. 91, and Duclos, tom.
i., p. 100.
When Louis XIV. had thus proffered his last word, Philip V. even yet
urged some objections, and the Princess des Ursins on her part, moved
her friends into action; but there was no means of converting Louis XIV.
to what the Court of Madrid demanded, since not one of the allies was
willing either; and, as for the acquisition of those few manors in
Luxembourg, in exchange for an equivalent in Touraine, he preferred
personally to have nothing upon any frontier, than to gain so little,
and owe such feeble legacy to an intrigue, unworthy of his character,
unworthy of a great nation, and only fit to serve as a text for the
biting irony of foreigners or that of his own subjects.
Madame des Ursins is indeed no longer comprehensible throughout this
affair. She, hitherto so noble-minded, so devoted to high-class
politics, so prudent, so full of tact. Oh! how far off are we from
realising that lofty sentiment of hers:--
"Sans peine je passerais de la dictature à la charrue!"
There was nothing left, however, but to give way. The treaty of Utrecht
was signed by Philip V., and unconditionally. The net gain in the
business fell to d'Aubigny; he received for his trouble as a negotiator,
and for his constancy in another way, the manor of Chanteloup, revealed
the motive of its construction--yet an enigma to everybody in France,
says Saint Simon[69]--installed himself therein, and, for the rest, made
himself loved and esteemed there. To Madame des Ursins there only
remained the mortification of having failed, a mortification the greater
that her pretensions had been so lofty and tenacious. It was further
increased, also, by having turned the Court of France against her, and
engendered a coolness towards her on the part of Madame de Maintenon
herself, who up to that juncture had always approved of her manner of
acting and her system of government, but who now, seizing the occasion
of Orry having established some imposts upon the Catalans, did not
hesitate to say very harshly and laconically: "We do not think Orry fit
for his post, for Spain is very badly governed."[70]
[69] Mémoires de Saint Simon, tom. xviii., p. 104.
[70] Lettres, tom. iii., p. 448, year 1714.
Those were accents which must have deeply grieved the heart of the
Princess. Next came Berwick, who was by no means, as we have seen, to be
ranked amongst her friends--Berwick, whom Louis XIV. had sent in spite
of her, in spite of what she had said of Tessé, who, by his own account,
had failed the first time before Barcelona only because he had been
prevented from commencing the siege soon enough. Her influence, it was
impossible to longer doubt, had been greatly lessened at Versailles, if
it had not perished altogether.
Trembling for herself, she continued naturally to lean upon the King of
Spain, who was devoted to her. In order that this plank of safety should
not escape her grasp, she permitted only those she liked to have access
to him; she regulated all his proceedings; she kept him from all private
audience; she seemed jealous of it, whilst she was only so as regarded
her own preservation. Scandal, as may be imagined, was again busy with
her name. It was again whispered that she was in hopes that the King,
scarcely yet thirty-two, would not be repelled by the faded charms of a
septuagenarian; that he would marry her, that was certain; and in every
saloon throughout the world of fashion in France, circulated the
following anecdote, which Saint Simon duly registered in his Memoirs,
and in which further figured, to render it more piquante and authentic,
the Reverend Father Robinet. The King certainly had one evening
withdrawn with his confessor into the embrasure of a window. The latter
appearing reserved and mysterious, the curiosity of Philip V. was
excited, and the King questioned his confessor as to the meaning of the
unwonted mood in which he found him. Upon which Father Robinet replied,
that since the King forced him to it, he would confess that nobody
either in France or Spain doubted but that he would do Madame des Ursins
the honour of espousing her. "I marry her!" hastily rejoined the King.
"Oh! as to that, certainly not!" and he turned upon his heel as he
uttered the sentence. It was the pendant of "_Oh! pour mariée, non!_" of
the famous letter of the Abbé d'Estrées, related by the same historian.
Saint Simon's two pictures are delightful; in either of the two, the
priest, whether cunning or malignant, figures conspicuously, attracts
attention, and keeps up one's curiosity.
For some time, Philip V. treated these reports as mere inventions and
calumnies, "the offspring of envy, hatred, and ambition." All that was
said concerning the omnipotence of Madame des Ursins, of her empire over
him, of her hopes, her designs, of that same corridor, of their private
interviews, left him unmoved and indifferent. The Count de Bergueick,
until then a stanch adherent of the Princess des Ursins, himself
declared that that omnipotence had become insupportable, and he asked
permission to return to Flanders, whence he had been summoned. Philip V.
allowed him to depart, and Madame des Ursins lost not one jot of her
authority. But the complaints, the murmurs, the idle talk continued, the
incessant repetition of which could not fail at last to make an
impression upon a weak mind. In the end the King grew wearied, and
vexed, especially at the reports relating to such a ridiculous marriage,
to a matrimonial project which wounded his self-love as a man as well as
his royal dignity, and tormented besides by the exigencies of a
temperament, in which the flesh was far too predominant over the
spirit--"Find me a wife," said he, one day to Madame des Ursins, "our
_tête-à-têtes_ scandalise the people."[71]
[71] Mémoire de Duclos, tom, i., p. 230.
CHAPTER IV.
THE PRINCESSES ELIGIBLE TO BECOME PHILIP'S CONSORT.
"FIND me a wife!" The sentence was like a thunderclap in the ears of
Madame des Ursins, so long accustomed as she had been to govern and
domineer. Where to find one--one like Marie Louise of Savoy, who would
consent to retain her in the same functions, and who, like her, with
intelligence and firmness of mind, would have a boundless confidence in
her _camerara mayor_, and a docility proof against everything? Louis
XIV., being consulted, replied to his grandson that he gave him his
choice between a princess of Portugal, a princess of Bavaria, and a
princess of Parma. The first was greatly to the taste of the Castilians;
they had always had reason to praise their Portuguese queens, and they
attached to such choice hopes of renewed political unity for the Spanish
peninsula to the profit of Castile, which thus, by marriages, would
absorb, on the left, Portugal, as it had appropriated on the right, the
kingdom of Arragon. But the Court of the King of Portugal, the brother
of that princess, had been the rendezvous and the asylum of aristocratic
and Austrian opposition. These antecedents alarmed Madame des Ursins on
her own account, and did not appear much more assuring for Philip V. Was
it not known, on the other hand, that Portugal--especially since the
treaty of Utrecht, since the Bourbons had become, in spite of that
nation, the immutable possessors of Spain--dreaded those neighbouring
kings, after having previously loved them so much as liberators, and on
that account had placed herself under the protection of England, the
enemy of all the reigning branches of that powerful and ambitious house?
A marriage with the daughter of the Elector of Bavaria, of a firm ally
of Louis XIV. and Philip V., might well be the boon and the bond of an
old friendship, but could not procure for Spain any compensation for the
sacrifices imposed upon her by the terms of the recent peace.
The Princess of Parma, as a guarantee of security, if not of material
advantage, did not at the first glance seem more eligible. "Besides that
she was the issue of a double bastardy, of a pope on her father's side,
of a natural daughter of Charles V. on her mother's side, she was the
daughter of a petty duke of Parma and a thoroughly Austrian mother, who
was herself the sister of the dowager-empress, of the dowager-queen of
Spain, who was so unpopular that she was exiled; and further of the
Queen of Portugal, who had persuaded her husband to receive the Archduke
at Lisbon, and to carry the war into Spain."[72] On that account such
was not an eligible choice for the King of Spain. It was certain,
moreover, although Madame des Ursins was unaware of it, that "she was of
a haughty disposition, and that she had been brought up at Parma with
the same thoroughly French freedom which reigned at Turin."[73] But by
her uncle, the reigning Duke of Parma, who had no children, and was no
longer of an age to have any, she was heiress to the duchies of Parma,
Plaisance, and Guastalla, and by another uncle, the aged Gaston de
Medicis, Duke of Tuscany, she had the expectation of Tuscany itself, and
the isle of Elba, a dependance of it. United to Philip V. she might
therefore some day, and perhaps shortly, bring Spain into Italy,
alongside of its ancient possessions, from which the treaty of Utrecht
had driven her. This consideration had much weight with Madame des
Ursins, to whom that treaty, as we have seen from a letter of Madame de
Maintenon, had appeared disgraceful for Spain, as well as detrimental to
herself. Doubtless there was something disquieting in the family
alliances of this princess; but it might be thought that the perspective
of an union with one of the most illustrious crowned houses of Europe,
and moreover the crown of a queen which would bind her brow, would
render her favourable to Madame des Ursins, upon whom a marriage so
brilliant depended, and which far surpassed Elizabeth's utmost
expectations. The former thought to find in the Farnese, brought up in a
modest and virtuous court, a simple-minded, timorous girl. Gratitude for
such a service appeared to Madame des Ursins a certain security for her
future tranquillity; but a skilful intriguer who had but very slightly
rendered himself agreeable to the princess--Alberoni, a native of
Parma--afterwards celebrated throughout Europe as the Cardinal Alberoni,
but then occupying a subordinate position in Spain, conceived at that
moment one of those vast plans to which his fertile genius was wont to
give birth, and which would have placed him in the foremost rank of
great men had a like success equally crowned them all. He concealed, as
already said, the real character of the Princess of Parma, who,
moreover, could not then have been known to be what she afterwards
turned out. The marriage was concluded, the new Queen set out for
Spain, and Madame des Ursins went forward to meet her at Xadraque, a
small town some few leagues from Madrid.
[72] Memoirs of St. Simon, tom. xx., p. 175.
[73] Histoire Secrete de la Cour de Madrid, année 1714, p. 315.
A dispensation from the Pope--for the future Queen was a near relative
of Gabrielle of Savoy--had been promptly obtained. Already did the
favourite indulge herself with the contemplation of the illimitable
prospect of domination which the future seemed to open up for her, when
she received more truthful information relative to the character of
Elizabeth Farnese. Her letters during the latter part of 1714,
notwithstanding their great reserve, reveal a manifest uneasiness, and
it is with an ill-concealed emotion that she relates, without precisely
detailing them, the contradictory reports which reach her relative to
the Princess. It seems impossible to doubt that, during the few months
which preceded the arrival of the Princess of Parma, the presence of
Madame des Ursins had not become a torment to the Spanish King, and that
he had not secretly lent his hand to a _coup d'état_ carried out
subsequently with a barbarous determination by his new consort. It was,
in fact, by showing to the officers of the guard a plenary power from
the King that Elizabeth triumphed over their hesitation, and that she
secured their assistance in the execution of a measure which perhaps
would have been less cruel if it had been more sanguinary; but if, since
the death of Marie Louise of Savoy, the relations of the King of Spain
with Madame des Ursins had assumed an obscure character, the active
intervention of the latter in the second marriage of that Prince at
least excludes the idea that she could have dreamed of a royal position
for herself, as her enemies accused her. Granted that the Abbé Alberoni
may have transformed the most ambitious princess in Europe into "a
jolly _Parmesane_ fattened upon cheese and butter,"[74] and that the
habitual circumspection of Madame des Ursins did not protect her against
the clumsiness of such a snare may be true, however unlikely; but it is
at least doubtful that the _camerara mayor_ could have cherished such
illusion when she presented herself for the first time before the new
Queen at the interview at Xadraque.
[74] "Questo abbate pur freddamente, e come a mezza voce la nomino,
aggiugnendo per altro, ch'ella era una buona Lombarda, impastata da
buttero et fromagio picentino, elevata alla casalingua, ed avezza di
non sentirsi di altro parlare che di mertelli ricami e
tele."--_Memorie Istoriche_ di Poggiali, p. 279.
Whether the indiscretions of others had revealed to her the true
character of Elizabeth Farnese, whether she had foreseen the manoeuvres
of the Inquisition with the future Queen, whether she had dreaded the
anger of Louis XIV., who had not been consulted; whether the triumphant
attitude of her enemies had opened her eyes, certain it is, however,
that the Princess attempted to break off the match. But it was in vain
that she despatched a confidential agent to Parma for that purpose. On
his arrival, the messenger was thrown into prison and threatened with
death, and so failed in his mission. The marriage by procuration was
celebrated on the 16th of August, 1714. That unskilful and tardy
opposition released the Princess Farnese from all feelings of gratitude,
furnished the enemies of Madame des Ursins with a deadly weapon, by
appearing to justify their accusations in a striking manner, and so
prepared her ruin.
Her disgrace was prompt, cruel, decisive. The plan had evidently been
concerted long beforehand.[75] Confirmed in her design by her interview
at Saint Jean de Luz with the Queen Dowager, widow of Charles II. and
her relative, and at Pampeluna with Alberoni, Elizabeth held on her way
to Madrid. The King advanced to meet her on the road to Burgos, and
Madame des Ursins, as has been said, went on before as far as the little
town of Xadraque. When the Queen arrived there on the 23rd of December,
1714, Madame des Ursins received her with the customary reverences.
Afterwards, having followed her into a cabinet, she perceived her
instantly change her tone. By some it is said that Madame des Ursins,
being desirous of finding fault with something about the Queen's
head-dress, whilst she was at her toilette, the latter treated it as an
impertinence, and immediately flew into a rage. Others relate (and these
different accounts tally with each other in the main) that Madame des
Ursins having protested her devotedness to the new Queen, and assured
her Majesty "that She might always reckon upon finding her stand between
the King and herself, to keep matters in the state in which they ought
to be on her account, and procuring her all the gratifications which she
had a right to expect--the Queen, who had listened quietly enough so
far, took fire at these last words, and replied that she did not want
anyone near the King; that it was an impertinence to make her such an
offer, and that it was presuming too much to dare to address her in such
a fashion." Thus much is certain, that the Queen, outrageously thrusting
Madame des Ursins out of her cabinet,[76] summoned M. d'Amezaga,
lieutenant of the bodyguard, who commanded the escort, and ordered him
to arrest the Princess, to make her get immediately into a carriage, and
have her driven to the French frontiers by the shortest road, and
without halting anywhere. As d'Amezaga hesitated, the Queen asked him
whether he had not received a special command from the King of Spain to
obey her in everything and without reserve--which was quite true. Madame
des Ursins was arrested, therefore, and carried off instantaneously,
just as she was, in her full dress of ceremony, and hurried across Spain
as fast as six horses could drag her. It was mid-winter--no provisions
to be found in the inns of Spain; no beds; not a change of clothes--the
ground covered with frost and snow; and the Princess was then in her
seventy-second year. A lady's maid and two officers of the guard
accompanied her in the carriage.
[75] "I only ask one thing of you," wrote Elizabeth Farnese to
Philip V.; "that is the dismissal of Madame des Ursins;" and the
king had replied--"At least do not spare your blow; for if she only
talk to you for a couple of hours, she will enchain you, and hinder
us from sleeping together, as happened to the late Queen."--Duclos.
[76] Madame des Ursins, stupified, sought to make excuses. "La Reine
alors, redoublant de furie et de menaces, se mit à crier qu'on fît
sortir cette folle de sa présence et de son logis, et l'en fit
mettre dehors par les épaules."--Saint Simon.
"I know not how I managed to endure all the fatigue of that journey,"
she wrote Madame de Maintenon, whilst wandering about the French
frontiers, eighteen days after the scene at Xadraque. "They compelled me
to sleep upon straw, and to breakfast in a very different style to the
repast to which I had been accustomed. I have not forgotten in the
details which I have taken the liberty to send the King (Louis XIV.)
that I ate only two stale eggs daily; it struck me that such a fact
would excite him to take pity upon a faithful subject who has not
deserved, it seems to me, in any way such contemptuous treatment. I am
going to Saint Jean de Luz to take a little repose and learn what it may
please the King to do in my behalf."
And from this last-named town--at which she was set at liberty--and up
to her arrival at which she had unfalteringly maintained the strength
and constancy of her character, neither a tear nor a complaint escaping
her--a few days later she wrote again to Madame de Maintenon:
"Here I shall await the King's commands. I am in a small house--the
ocean before me, sometimes calm, sometimes agitated: it is an image of
what passes in courts. You know what has happened to me; I shall not
implore in vain your generous compassion. I agree perfectly with you
that stability is only to be found in God. Assuredly it is not to be
found in the human breast; for who could be more certain than I was of
the King of Spain's heart?"
Everything leads us to infer, in fact, that it was Philip V. who,
forgetting the long and faithful services of Madame des Ursins, and
wearied of a domination from which he had not the courage to free
himself, gave authority to his new consort to take everything upon
herself; and the latter, who, like Alberoni, her crafty adviser,
belonged to the intrepid race of political gamesters, did not hesitate
for a single instant to commence her regal play with the execution of
such a master-stroke. Elizabeth of Parma felt herself to be too
first-rate a personage to condescend to figure side by side on the same
stage with Madame des Ursins.
It was of this same Elizabeth, born for a throne, that Frederick the
Great said: "The pride of a Spartan, the obstinacy of a Briton, added to
Italian finesse and French vivacity, formed the character of this
singular woman. She advanced audaciously to the accomplishment of her
designs; nothing astonished her, nothing could stop her." Possessed of
such qualities it is not surprising to find that she profited by the
smallest opening to sweep the ground clear on her arrival.
Recovering from this stunning downfall, Madame des Ursins, after the
first moments of surprise, recovered all her strength, her sang-froid,
her wonted equanimity. Not a complaint or unbecoming reproach or weak
word escaped her lips. She had formed a just estimate beforehand of all
that human instability; she said to herself, on beholding her enemies
triumphant and her friends in consternation, that there was no reason to
be greatly astonished. That this world was only a stage over which many
very poor actors strutted, that she had thereon played her part better
than many others perhaps, and that her enemies ought not to have
expected to see her so humiliated that she could no longer perform it:
"It is in the eye of heaven that I should be humbled," said she, "and I
am so."
Every reader of Saint Simon must be deeply impressed with his narrative
of that terrible night of December 24th, 1714. Who can fail to picture
to himself the rude expulsion of the Princess des Ursins from the
Queen's apartment in her full dress of ceremony, suddenly packed off in
a carriage, without proper clothing or change of linen, and without
money, to be whirled away through a winter's night so severe that her
driver lost one of his hands from frost-bite, over mountain passes where
the roads had disappeared beneath the snow, towards an unknown
destination? Who cannot picture to himself hunger coming to add fresh
tortures to those of the prolonged nightmare under which that
unfortunate lady must have suffered the keenest pangs of incertitude, of
astonishment, and of humiliation? Such, however, was the fate reserved
for a woman who had inscribed her name among those of the founders of a
dynasty and the liberators of a great kingdom!
For some time previous to the occurrence of that strange event--so
unlooked for, so inconceivable--the Princess had not been free from
inquietude with respect to the preservation of her prestige and
authority, as also on the score of constantly recurring difficulties
with the Court of Versailles, wherein she had numerous enemies keeping
up an active correspondence with the still more numerous enemies by whom
she was surrounded at Madrid; the affairs of the sovereignty, the
isolation in which Philip was kept; the marriage of that Prince,
determined upon and almost concluded without the consent of his
grandfather--all which had deeply angered Louis the Fourteenth.
Though all this tended by turns to inspire the Princess with fear and
disgust, still, she could not anticipate an ignominious treatment coming
from that quarter. Soon, however, her wonted courage got the uppermost
in her bosom; besides, she had hopes both from her justification and
from the King of Spain, whose confidence she thought unshakeable, of a
return to Court, difficult, nevertheless, after such a shock. Meanwhile,
the Queen vouchsafed no replies to her letters; the King announced to
her that he was unable to refuse the maintenance of the measure taken at
the instance of the Queen, but assured her that pensions would be
conferred upon her. Having reached St. Jean de Luz, Madame des Ursins
wrote to Versailles, and shortly afterwards despatched thither one of
her nephews. The Great Monarch was compelled to be guided by the
decision of his grandson; Madame de Maintenon replied by evasive
compliments. The Princess could then see that all was at an end, as
regarded her resumption of power. She pursued her way through France,
and arrived in Paris. The King received her coldly; her stay in France
was not prolonged without difficulty. Moreover, she foresaw the
approaching decease of Louis the Fourteenth, and a regency under the
Duke of Orleans. Their old quarrels, the open hatred which had since
existed between them, causing her uneasiness and misgivings, she
resolved to quit France. She wished to visit the Low Countries, but was
not permitted. She proceeded to Savoy, thence to Genoa, and at last
returned to Rome, where she once more fixed her abode. There a suitable
existence was secured to her, for Philip kept his promise, and caused
her pension to be punctually paid.
Habituated to the stir of courts and the excitement of state affairs,
she could not condemn herself, notwithstanding her age, to an absolute
repose. Prince James Stuart, called _the Pretender_, having withdrawn to
Rome, Madame des Ursins attached herself to him and his fortunes; she
did the honours of his house: and thus she remained until her death,
which took place December 5th, 1722, at the age of fourscore and
upwards.
It has been sought to divine the real authors of the Princess's
disgrace; for it has been considered, not without good reason, that it
was very improbable that no other cause save a sudden impulse arising
from a feeling of anger, barely justifiable on the Queen's part, had
urged her to put in execution a resolution which brought about nothing
less than an actual political revolution.
BOOK IV.
CLOSING SCENES.
CHAPTER I.
THE PRINCESS DES URSINS.
THE Princess des Ursins, as it will be seen, shared the fate of
Portocarrero, of Medina-Coeli, and of all those whose power she had
broken or whose designs she had frustrated; and who, after their
decease, were immediately buried in silence and oblivion. Divided into
two parts by the death of Marie-Louise of Savoy, her political life in
Spain had not always assumed the same character, a like aspect. The
first had been marked by useful or glorious actions, and was of real
grandeur; the second was more remarkable for its weakness. Side by side
with a bold and honourable, although unsuitable enterprise, ridiculous
and extravagant pretensions were coupled. Finding herself alone at the
right hand of Philip the Fifth, she became puffed up with her exclusive
influence, her new rank and title. She exaggerated her personal
importance. She was possessed with the secret desire of being in Spain,
with a young sovereign, and he too on the eve of marriage, what Madame
de Maintenon was in France, with an aged monarch, and for a while she
attained that object, as flattering to her feminine vanity as to her
ambition.
In this there was only one difference, a difference arising from the
respective characters of these two ladies and of those two kings; which
was that the ascendant of the one, taking the form of friendship the
most discreet, was lasting, whilst the other, exercising a direct,
immediate, and too overt domination, was destined, sooner or later, to
end in tiring out a monarch infinitely less capable than Louis the
Fourteenth, but quite as jealous of sway. The Princess bore, therefore,
rather the semblance of an intriguante, as people remarked, than of a
serious woman, having large views, of will alike firm and prompt, of
enlightened and, in a certain sense, liberal mind, with an entire
abnegation of self--seeking the welfare of the State alone, and the
interests only of the two great countries. Except those whom she had
served, or who had sent her to Spain, few had approved her acts at any
period of her favour. The misfortunes and the abuses that marked her
possession of power, when it had reached its apogee, confirmed them in
their opinion, especially when they saw, in France, the severest censure
launched against her even from high places, whence until then praise had
descended. Others, to whom her previous conduct was less known, judged
her only by what seemed ridiculous or faulty at that period of her life,
and the last impression received was that which they retained, which has
been transmitted to posterity; which was regarded as that most to be
relied upon, and which the almost exclusive perusal of Saint Simon, far
from modifying in any way that impression, only served to confirm it.
That consummate courtier has well said, in his Memoirs, that "her
history deserved to be written," implying the deep interest which would
be derivable from it. The narrative, apart from its interest, is
valuable for the lesson it conveys of the fruitlessness of the devotion
of a most gifted woman's life to the pursuit of politics on the grandest
and most elevated scale. During twelve years the Princess des Ursins
exercised a power almost absolute. If, however, the beneficent traces of
her influence and sway are sought for, the search proves futile; though
doubtless, after so many crises and revolutions Spain has experienced
since her time, that ungovernable country must have lost all such
advantages; but at any rate posterity would have preserved a remembrance
of them. We must not, however, accuse Madame des Ursins too severely.
One of those vigorous geniuses was needed which but too seldom make
their appearance upon the scene of events to resuscitate and sustain the
Spanish monarchy amidst circumstances so untoward and difficult. After
civil and foreign war which had driven Philip to the brink of a
precipice, he had succeeded in reducing to obedience the last city of
his kingdom, only a few days before the fall of Madame des Ursins. And
then began a peaceful sway, which allowed useful reforms and beneficent
ameliorations to be thought of.
The subject of so many accusations, and probably misconceptions, the
Princess possessed a large, fine, and cultivated mind, a rare aptitude
for business, a force of character little common among persons of her
sex. Warm in her affections, she was naturally so in her hatreds; and
though but too easily accessible to unjust prejudices, was prompt also
to seek out and encourage merit. She has been reproached for her
intrigues, but the same weapons with which she was assailed she turned
against her enemies, and their number was great. How manifold must have
been the animosities excited by the position of a woman who, standing
only at the foot of the throne, governed both its possessors and their
Court, created and directed its ministers, generals, and ambassadors!
Fervent attachment to her sovereigns, eminent services rendered to them
and their countries, an astonishing capacity, a profound knowledge of
mankind, a rare presence of mind, and an unshakeable firmness in
situations the most perilous and misfortunes the most unlooked-for,
such attributes cannot be denied without injustice to the Princess des
Ursins, and which, however futile the result of her political career,
ought to consecrate the memory of her labours and her name.
It was a generous impulse which prompted Madame des Ursins to commence a
fresh attack upon the Spanish Inquisition. Can it be said that the war
she waged against it remained without any result? Assuredly not. By her
active intervention the English Government obtained the privilege that
the palace of its ambassador at Madrid should enjoy the right of an
asylum against all the proceedings of the Inquisition, and the same
privilege was acquired for British vessels in the ports of Spain. A
Protestant nation thus opened in the capital of the Catholic King a
perpetual refuge against the rigours of the Holy Office. It was a great
innovation; it was the first blow dealt by the spirit of modern times
against that of those Spanish institutions which represented the most
faithfully the blind and almost barbarous religion of the Middle Ages.
It is difficult to decide whether it was a misfortune or an advantage to
her to figure in the gallery of the ducal memoir-writer, Saint Simon.
That portrait, sketched with a breadth and freedom by which her womanly
character has somewhat suffered, depicts her as devoured by a thirst for
power, without even allowing the important services which she rendered
to the two nations to be so much as suspected. The great master has not
given us a bust-portrait of Madame des Ursins, but a full-length
likeness, with that lavish excess of colour flung upon the canvas which
imparts more life than truth, more of relief than perspective to the
majority of his pictures. If in that brilliant delineation the great
lady shines with a somewhat theatrical majesty, the national object
which she pursued is in no wise indicated--a grave though natural
omission on the part of a man in whom a passionate fondness for details
almost always blinds him to the collective point of view, and who is not
the first of portraitists only because he is the least reliable of
historical painters. He, nevertheless, in her case, always manifests the
feeling that she is worthy of a careful, special, and patient study, and
he points out such study for the edification of posterity. "She reigned
in Spain," he remarks, "and her history deserves to be written."