TWO QUEENS AND TWO PRETENDERS
The growing power of Mehemet Ali, and the increasing decrepitude of the Ottoman Empire were not the only subjects which, in the year 1833, engaged the serious attention of the European Cabinets. A civil war was in progress in Portugal, and Spain was threatened with the same calamity. Dom Pedro, the Emperor of Brazil, had, on the death of his father, abdicated the crown of Portugal in favour of his seven year old daughter, Donna Maria de Gloria. At the same time he had appointed his brother, Dom Miguel, to the Regency, on the understanding that he would agree to observe the Charter, and to marry his niece, the young Queen. Dom Miguel gave the required assurances, but upon his arrival at Lisbon, early in the year 1828, he proceeded to abrogate the constitution, and shortly afterwards to usurp the throne. His unlawful assumption of the crown was followed by harsh and reactionary measures against Liberals and Freemasons, which culminated in the establishment of a veritable reign of terror. It was in consequence of this state of affairs, that, in July, 1831, a French fleet had, with the full approval of the British government, been dispatched to the Tagus to exact reparation for outrages committed on French subjects.[325]
Meanwhile, a successful revolution in Brazil had compelled Dom Pedro to seek refuge in England, where he arrived with his daughter at the very moment when Admiral Roussin’s squadron was before Lisbon. The fallen Emperor threw himself heart and soul into the task of reconquering his daughter’s kingdom. Lord Grey’s Cabinet regarded his warlike preparations with tacit approval, whilst the French government openly encouraged him, and allowed his followers to assemble at Belle-Isle. The constitutional fleet, commanded by Sartorius, a British naval officer, set sail from that port on February 10, 1832, and, by the following month of July, Dom Pedro was master of Oporto. But, though he constantly succeeded in defeating the Miguelite forces sent to re-take the city, his cause made little or no progress in other parts of the country.
Whilst these events were taking place in Portugal the health of the King of Spain had been visibly declining. Under ordinary circumstances it would have been a matter for congratulation, rather than for regret, that any country should be relieved from the rule of such a man as Ferdinand VII. In this particular instance, however, it was too probable that a fiercely disputed succession would be the legacy which he would bequeath to his unfortunate subjects. His third wife, Maria Amalia of Saxony, had died on May 17, 1829, and he, thereupon, announced his intention of re-marrying. His choice fell upon an intelligent and attractive woman in the person of his niece, Maria Christina of Naples. His first three marriages had been childless, but his fourth wife, Christina, presented him with a daughter on October 10, 1830. By the ancient law of Spain females could succeed to the throne, in the event of there being no direct male heirs. But in 1713, Philip V., in order to prevent the union of the Spanish and French crowns, had been forced to issue a Pragmatic Sanction, which gave the preference of succession always to the male line. This act, however, was repealed in 1789 by Charles IV., who restored the ancient law.
This return to the old order of succession was not, however, made public until May 19, 1830, when Christina succeeded in persuading Ferdinand to allow the decree of Charles IV. to be promulgated. Consequently, when some five months later her daughter was born, she was promptly proclaimed Princess of the Asturias, a title only conferred upon an heiress to the throne. A fierce struggle then began between Christina and Don Carlos, who had hitherto been looked upon as his brother’s successor. This prince was the champion of the ultra clerical—the so-called Apostolical party—whereas Christina, who, during her passage through France, had promised to use her influence on behalf of the Spanish political exiles, represented the hopes of the Liberals. Thus, in September, 1832, when Ferdinand was supposed to be at the point of death, the Apostolical minister, Calomarde, succeeded in procuring the abrogation of the law of 1789. But the King most unexpectedly recovered, and, under the influence of Christina, caused the decree of Charles IV. to be promulgated a second time. Calomarde, moreover, was disgraced and dismissed and a comparatively Liberal Cabinet was formed.
From the moment of Dom Pedro’s return to Europe, the French Cabinet had endeavoured to persuade the British government to join with France in expelling Dom Miguel from Portugal. Palmerston, however, had declined to interfere actively.[326] He was very unwilling that France should be afforded an opportunity of extending her influence in Portugal, and he, moreover, suspected Louis Philippe of scheming to marry one of his sons to Donna Maria. But, provided it could be brought about without a French intervention, he was sincerely anxious that the usurper should be overthrown and that a Liberal régime should be set up at Lisbon. The dismissal of Calomarde appears to have suggested to him that the King of Spain might not be found unwilling to render assistance to the constitutional cause in Portugal. Under ordinary circumstances Ferdinand could scarcely have been expected to regard with a friendly eye the establishment of a limited monarchy in a country bordering upon Spain. But the birth of his daughter had introduced a new element into the situation. Dom Miguel derived his strength from the support of the Apostolical party, which in Spain looked upon Don Carlos as its champion. There were some grounds, therefore, for hoping that Ferdinand’s paternal anxiety to see his daughter Isabella’s succession to the throne assured might prove stronger than his natural aversion to the growth of Liberal institutions in a neighbouring State.
The task of inducing Ferdinand to intervene on behalf of Donna Maria was entrusted to Sir Stratford Canning, who was generally selected for the most difficult negotiations. Canning arrived in Madrid, upon his special mission, at the beginning of January, 1833. His first conferences with the Spanish Minister for Foreign Affairs convinced him that he had little prospect of bringing his task to a successful conclusion. Compared to a man of the type of Calomarde, Cea Bermúdez, his successor, might seem to be a Liberal. In point of fact, however, although he was strongly opposed to Don Carlos and the clerical party, he was even more hostile to representative institutions in any shape. An enlightened despotism, in his opinion, constituted the best form of government for Spain. Accordingly, he made it very clear that the change of ministry had in no way modified the views of the Court as to the situation in Portugal. It would be, he declared, altogether inconsistent with honour and good faith for the King to participate in any measures directed against the sovereignty of Dom Miguel.[327]
Stratford Canning, notwithstanding that his task seemed almost hopeless, remained some four months in the Spanish capital. So long as Cea Bermúdez was in power it was plainly useless to expect that Ferdinand could be induced to enter into the views of the British government. Canning, accordingly, set himself to work to undermine the position of that minister. For a brief moment he seems to have been sanguine that, by means of “a difference of opinion in the Cabinet,”he might be able to effect his purpose. But his hopes were speedily dispelled. The three ministers opposed to Cea Bermúdez with whom he had established communication were suddenly dismissed by the King.[328] Nor was he more fortunate with Queen Christina, with whom he contrived “to open a direct and confidential intercourse.”[329] She appeared to agree with him that the triumph of Dom Miguel in Portugal could not fail to react disastrously upon the fortunes of her daughter, but she either could not, or would not influence the King to regard matters in the same light.
Sir Stratford’s difficulties had been aggravated by the news that Dom Pedro’s resources were exhausted, and that his position at Oporto was desperate. But a few weeks after Canning’s departure from Madrid the situation in Portugal assumed a very different complexion. Sartorius, the admiral of the constitutional fleet, had been replaced by Charles Napier, who from the first appears to have judged the political and strategical situation correctly. The mere possession of Oporto and victorious sallies against the Miguelite lines would never, he saw clearly, win the crown for Donna Maria. A bold move on Lisbon itself could alone give the victory to the constitutionalists. The capital, in his opinion, might be captured, provided he could obtain the command of the sea. Having succeeded in persuading Dom Pedro and his advisers to adopt his views, he sought out the Miguelite fleet, and, on July 5, 1833, despite the inferiority of his ships, completely destroyed it off Cape St. Vincent.[330] Three weeks later, Lisbon was occupied by Terceira, the constitutional general, in the name of Donna Maria.
The capture of Lisbon compelled the Miguelites to raise the siege of Oporto. The civil war continued, nevertheless, in other parts of the country. No sooner, however, was Dom Pedro, the Regent, installed in the capital than the British government recognized the sovereignty of Queen Maria, and undertook to protect her from aggression on the part of the King of Spain.[331] But the fear that Ferdinand might send military assistance to Dom Miguel was speedily set at rest. On September 29, 1833, he died, and Christina, thereupon, assumed the government in the name of her daughter Isabella, who was at once acknowledged as Queen of Spain by France and Great Britain. The partisans of her uncle Don Carlos were, however, upon the alert. The Basque provinces rose in arms to the cry of “Long live Carlos V. Long live the Inquisition,” and Don Carlos was proclaimed King, on October 7, at Vittoria.[332]
Don Carlos himself was fortunately absent from Madrid at the time of his brother’s death. Some few months earlier he had been practically exiled from Spain and had joined Dom Miguel in Portugal. The presence of the Spanish Pretender at the headquarters of the Portuguese Usurper appears at last to have brought home to Christina and her minister, Cea Bermúdez, that the fortunes of Isabella must largely depend upon the success of the constitutional cause in Portugal. Mr. Villiers, the British minister newly accredited to the Court of Madrid, experienced, in consequence, none of those difficulties which had baffled Stratford Canning’s ingenuity, whilst Ferdinand was alive. The Queen Regent’s government consented, after some little hesitation, to propose to the contending parties in Portugal the joint mediation of Great Britain and Spain, and, when Dom Miguel declined to consider this offer, Cea Bermúdez announced that his refusal had released Spain from all engagements which she had contracted towards him.[333]
At the news that Ferdinand was dead and that serious disturbances had broken out, the French government proceeded to concentrate troops in proximity to the Spanish frontier. These military movements excited considerable alarm in London, where it was feared that they were a prelude to an active intervention. Palmerston, however, was soon satisfied that neither Louis Philippe nor the chief members of his government wished to despatch an army across the Pyrenees.[334] In the opinion of Duc de Broglie, the expulsion of Dom Miguel from Portugal was a necessary preliminary to any attempt to settle Spanish affairs. Both he and his colleagues, he declared, were prepared to respect England’s traditional dislike to any foreign intrusion in Portugal. But, under these circumstances, they had a right to expect, he contended, that great Britain should herself take the necessary measures for terminating a situation, which threatened to disturb the tranquillity of neighbouring States.[335]
Although very anxious to see peace restored, the British government wished to escape from the necessity of landing a military force in Portugal. It hoped to attain the desired result by concerting measures with Spain for the expulsion of both Pretenders. Seeing that Don Carlos was levying war from Portuguese territory against the government of the Queen Regent, the right of Spain to intervene was beyond question. In January, 1834, Cea Bermúdez had been succeeded by Martinez de la Rosa. The new minister entered readily into the plans of the British government and agreed to despatch an ambassador to London, provided with full powers to conclude a convention. Strict secrecy was observed about the negotiations, and it was only, on April 13, 1834, when all the details had been settled, that Palmerston showed Talleyrand a draft of the proposed treaty. Spain was to send an army against Dom Miguel, whilst England was to furnish Dom Pedro with naval assistance. It was not intended to invite France to be a party to this agreement; she would merely be asked to adhere to it.[336]
Talleyrand’s account of this transaction was sent to Admiral de Rigny, not to the Duc de Broglie. The refusal of the Chamber to ratify his proposals for settling a long-standing dispute with the United States, respecting the indemnity to be paid for the seizure of certain ships between the years 1806 and 1812, had driven the Duke to resign. The conditions of the projected treaty caused the greatest irritation in Paris. “The effect would be disastrous,” wrote Rigny, “were it to appear that France had entered into the agreement under the protection of England.”[337] Talleyrand was, accordingly, directed to insist that France should be made a party to the treaty. After a lengthy and, at times, a heated discussion, Palmerston gave way and, on April 22, 1834, the instrument, known as the Quadruple Treaty, was signed by the representatives of Great Britain, France, Spain and Portugal. An article had been inserted into it stipulating that, “should the co-operation of France be deemed necessary by the High Contracting Parties the King of the French would engage to do, in this respect, whatever might be settled by common consent between himself and his august allies.”
The immediate object of the alliance was rapidly achieved. The junction of a Spanish army under General Rodil with the constitutional forces, operating in Tras-os-Montes, was followed, on May 16, by a decisive victory over Dom Miguel at Asserceira. A week later both Pretenders capitulated at Evora Monte. Dom Miguel agreed to accept a small pension[338] and to retire to Italy, whilst Don Carlos, at his own request, was conveyed to England on board H.M.S. Donegal. But the elation of the allies at the rapid success which had crowned their operations was of brief duration. After a stay of little more than a week in London Don Carlos departed secretly, and, contriving to cross France undetected, reached Spain, where he appeared at the head of his followers in Biscay on July 9. This new development, both the French and British governments agreed, must be met by an extension of the scope of the Quadruple Treaty. Certain additional articles were, accordingly, formally annexed to it, on August 18, 1834. By the first of these, the King of the French undertook to hinder supplies and arms from reaching the Carlists from his southern provinces. By the second, His Britannic Majesty pledged himself to furnish Her Most Catholic Majesty with arms and ammunition and, in case of need, to supply naval succour; whilst by the third, the Regent of Portugal promised to render whatever military assistance it might be in his power to give.
In thus deciding to afford Queen Isabella material assistance, the French and English governments appear to have been strangely oblivious of their loudly proclaimed principle of “abstention from interference in the affairs of other States.” It was, doubtless, the inconsistency of their conduct in this respect which elicited from Talleyrand his cynical definition of the word non-intervention as “un mot métaphysique et politique qui signifie à peu près la même chose qu’ intervention.”[339] Both governments had, unquestionably, excellent reasons for desiring to put an end to a state of civil war and anarchy, which interfered with English trade, and had a disturbing effect upon the internal condition of France. In addition, there was the consideration, to which Palmerston attached much weight, that the Quadruple Treaty, by proclaiming the intimate union of the Liberal Powers, would counterbalance the league which the absolute Courts had, in the previous autumn, concluded at Münchengrätz.[340] Martinez de la Rosa, Christina’s chief minister, had been engaged in framing a constitutional Charter and the Estatuto Real,—the result of his labours—was about to be made public. Spain might, therefore, claim to be numbered among the Liberal Powers of Europe. But there would seem to have been another, and a more exclusively national reason, for the support which the English government decided to extend to the cause of constitutionalism in Spain. For the past century Spain had constantly followed the impulse of France and that state of affairs had, on many occasions, proved detrimental to British interests. “Foreign influence, however,” wrote Lord Palmerston some years later, “can best be exerted over the Court of a despotic monarch and becomes much weaker, if not entirely paralyzed, when it has to act upon the constitutional representatives of a free people. The British government, therefore, perceived that, by assisting the Spanish people to establish a constitutional form of government, they were assisting to secure the political independence of Spain, and they had no doubt that the maintenance of that independence would be conducive to important British interests.”[341]
One of the chief reasons, therefore, which led England to enter into the Quadruple Treaty was to destroy that influence which, for more than a century, France had been striving to establish over the Spanish government. Her statesmen had constantly laid it down as the first principle of their policy that her ascendency must be supreme at the Court at Madrid. It was essential, they argued, that France should have no fears of an attack from beyond the Pyrenees, should she be engaged in war with her powerful eastern neighbours. On that account the Salic Law, the Duc de Broglie explained to Lord Granville, was distinctly advantageous to France, inasmuch as it debarred females from succeeding to the Spanish throne. Now that it was abolished, he pointed out, the French government had to contemplate the possibility that an Austrian Archduke might some day aspire to the hand of the Queen of Spain.[342] Louis Philippe not only endorsed the views of his minister in this matter, but frankly confessed to the British ambassador that the triumph of absolutism, in the person of Don Carlos, would suit him infinitely better than the establishment of a Liberal monarchy at Madrid. In that case “he was greatly afraid that the Peninsula would become the resort of all the revolutionists and republicans in Europe.”[343]
These being Louis Philippe’s opinions, it seems strange that he should not have attempted to dissuade his ministers from committing him to the Quadruple Treaty. The adoption of such a course, however, would have been very dangerous. The “citizen King” might in his heart greatly prefer les capuchons to les bonnets rouges,[344] but he dared not publicly proclaim these sentiments. Moreover, had France abandoned the English alliance she would not have been received into the league of the absolute Courts. Louis Philippe, consequently, if he wished to avoid complete isolation, was compelled to appear to adopt the British policy. But his secret leanings being what they were and Palmerston’s object being what it was, it is not surprising that, from the moment of the conclusion of the Quadruple Treaty, symptoms of serious disagreement should have manifested themselves in the relations of the two governments.
Before the close of the year 1834 the Carlists were masters of the whole of Biscay and Navarre, with the exception of some of the larger towns. It was not alone the influence of the priests and the monks which induced the people of these provinces to espouse the cause of the Pretender so enthusiastically. They knew well that, were a representative form of government to be established throughout Spain, the Fueros,[345] those special rights and privileges to which they were devotedly attached, must either be abolished or greatly curtailed. A leader arose in Zumalacárregui, who quickly proved his superiority over the constitutional generals sent against him. Henceforward the struggle between the Carlists and the Christinos was carried on with a barbarity unknown in Europe for centuries. Neither side gave nor expected quarter. After every engagement wounded and unwounded prisoners were ruthlessly massacred. Such was the condition of affairs when a change of government took place in England.
Lord Grey had resigned, on July 9, 1834, on a question of Irish policy and had been succeeded as Prime Minister by Lord Melbourne. Signs were plentiful that the Whigs were losing their popularity in the country, and the King resolved to dismiss his ministers at the first opportunity. The death of Lord Spencer gave him the pretext for which he was seeking. Althorp’s removal to the Upper House, he told Melbourne, had left the government so weakly represented in the Commons that he should call upon his ministers to resign. Sir Robert Peel, accordingly, undertook to form a new government, and Wellington accepted the post of Secretary for Foreign Affairs. The Duke had never approved of his predecessor’s policy of intervening in the disputed succession to the Spanish throne. But, soon after he had taken up his duties at the Foreign Office, an opportunity arose of interposing in a manner more in accordance with his views. In the course of a conference with Mr. Villiers, Martinez de la Rosa had suggested that the French and British governments should propose to both parties some arrangement for the exchange of prisoners and, generally, for mitigating the horrors of the war. The opening of communications with Don Carlos on these lines might with advantage be made to serve a double purpose. The commissioners, selected to proceed to the headquarters of the Pretender, might be instructed to impress upon him the hopelessness of his position, and to explain to him that he could obtain no assistance from the absolute Courts. An authoritative statement to that effect would, in the opinion of Martinez de la Rosa, be more useful than “six victories by her Majesty’s troops.” It would furnish Don Carlos with the excuse, for which he was believed to be seeking, for abandoning the struggle.[346]
Lord Eliot was, accordingly, dispatched to Spain. Ostensibly, his mission had no other object than the negotiation of some agreement for terminating the inhuman methods of warfare, which both parties had adopted. In reality, however, he carried with him secret instructions based upon the suggestions of Martinez de la Rosa. Whilst in Paris he was to communicate these to the Duc de Broglie, who was once more at the head of the Foreign Office, in order that the French commissioner might be furnished with identical instructions.[347] Hitherto, there had been no great cause for complaint as to the manner in which France performed the duties imposed upon her by the additional articles of the Quadruple Treaty. It was, therefore, with the utmost confidence that the request would be promptly complied with, that Wellington had decided to invite the French government to appoint some person to repair with Eliot to the seat of war. But Lord Cowley, who, upon the change of government, had succeeded Lord Granville as British ambassador in Paris, speedily ascertained that the Duke’s proposal was regarded with much disfavour. Nor was he long in doubt as to the quarter from which the opposition to it was inspired. Louis Philippe himself assured him, on April 2, that he dared not allow communications to be opened with Don Carlos, except in response to an official invitation from the government of the Queen Regent. But, although the Spanish ambassador shortly afterwards made the desired request, the King still hesitated to comply with it. He was greatly afraid, he told Lord Cowley, that Don Carlos would refuse to entertain the suggested proposals. Were the Pretender to take such a course, popular indignation would be aroused in France, and the government might be forced to march an army into Spain to enforce its demands.[348]
Eliot, in the meanwhile, had proceeded, unattended by a French colleague, to the headquarters of Don Carlos. He experienced little difficulty in inducing both contending parties to conclude a convention for the proper custody and exchange of prisoners of war. But no success attended his efforts to carry out the secret and more important part of his mission. Don Carlos resolutely declared that he never would abandon the struggle. Nor could Eliot flatter himself that any of his arguments had in the smallest degree shaken the Pretender’s determination to assert his right to the crown. Having exhausted all his powers of persuasion he set out on his return journey. As a result of his visit to the theatre of war he brought back to England the conviction that, without foreign assistance, the government of the Queen Regent would never contrive to pacify Alava, Biscay and Navarre.[349] Some weeks before he arrived in London Sir Robert Peel’s brief administration had come to an end. Melbourne had been recalled and Palmerston was once more at the Foreign Office.
Upon learning of the failure of Eliot’s mission, the government of the Queen Regent resolved to apply to France for military assistance against Don Carlos. Palmerston, who at this time regarded a French intervention as the worst of evils, lost no time in directing Villiers to protest. No more telling indictment of the whole policy of the Quadruple Treaty exists than the despatch which, on this occasion, Palmerston himself sent off to Madrid. The British minister was to represent that to appeal for foreign aid, before all the resources at the disposal of the Queen Regent had been exhausted, “would little redound to the honour of the Spanish government.” A settlement, he was to remind Queen Christina’s advisers, brought about by French or British bayonets, “could only be temporary and would never be acquiesced in as legitimate and final by the nation.”[350] It was very far, however, from Louis Philippe’s desire to despatch troops to Spain in support of the constitutional throne of Isabella. But, as Palmerston was also strongly opposed to direct French intervention, the King felt that he might with safety consult the British government about the propriety of acceding to the Spanish demand. Palmerston, as he had foreseen, had numerous objections to urge against the entry of a French army into Spain. The French ambassador at Madrid was, accordingly, instructed to inform Martinez de la Rosa that his appeal could not be complied with.[351] But, whilst making it perfectly clear that direct intervention was out of the question, M. de Rayneval was authorized to suggest that the foreign legion at Algiers might be transferred from the French to the Spanish service, and to promise that facilities for enlisting soldiers in France would be granted to the Spanish government.
The Cabinet of Madrid readily accepted this limited form of assistance. Help of the same description, but upon a more extended scale, was also furnished by Great Britain. The Foreign Enlistment Act was suspended and officers and men were encouraged to enter the service of the Queen of Spain. In England, where the war in the Peninsula was remembered with pride, volunteers were easily obtained. In France, for obvious reasons the appeals of the Spanish recruiting agents met with far less response. Nevertheless, before the autumn of 1835 some 4000 men, chiefly from Algiers, were transported to Spain, whilst rather more than double that number of British volunteers, under the command of De Lacy Evans, the Radical member for Westminster, were conveyed to the seat of war. Don Carlos, however, retaliated promptly. From his headquarters at Durango he issued a proclamation announcing that the Eliot Convention could not be permitted to apply to foreigners. Any person not of Spanish nationality, caught in arms against him, would be shot. The moment this decree was brought to the notice of the British government Colonel Wylde, the officer attached to the headquarters of the Queen’s armies, was directed to protest against it.[352] Wylde obtained access to Don Carlos and read out to him the declaration which Palmerston had drawn up. But the threats contained in it had no effect upon the Pretender, who replied that his proclamation was lawful, under the circumstances, and that his officers had the strictest orders to conform to it.[353] The only reprisal to which the British government could resort was to signify to its naval commanders that, in the event of Don Carlos applying for protection on board any of His Majesty’s ships, such protection was to be denied to him.[354]
The French government altogether declined to associate itself with Great Britain in protesting against the Decree of Durango. Lord Granville, who upon the return of the Whigs to office had resumed his post in Paris, found Louis Philippe and his chief ministers, with the exception of the Duc de Broglie, strongly opposed to any step of that kind. France, they argued, was differently circumstanced to Great Britain, inasmuch as she was not a party to the Eliot Convention. Moreover, were she to use threatening language to Don Carlos and were he to disregard her menaces, she would be driven to send troops across the frontier, and both the French and English governments had agreed that direct intervention was highly inexpedient for the moment. In vain Lord Granville protested that to remonstrate against the barbarity of the decree was a duty which the government owed to the men, who had been transferred from the French to the Spanish service. Neither that argument, nor the consideration that any appearance of lack of harmony between the French and British Cabinets must necessarily encourage the Pretender, had the smallest effect upon Louis Philippe or upon the majority of his ministers.[355]
Lord Palmerston’s indignation at Louis Philippe’s conduct was increased by the news which he was receiving from Lisbon. Dom Pedro had died on September 24, 1834, and the Cortes had, thereupon, declared the Queen to be of age, although she was not yet sixteen years of age. Shortly afterwards she had married Augustus of Leuchtenberg, the young duke whose candidature for the Belgian throne had so alarmed Louis Philippe in 1830. Their married life, however, was of brief duration. On March 25, 1835, Maria became a widow and the Cortes at once urged her to lose no time in contracting a second alliance. The young queen was quite ready to comply and soon, afterwards, informed her ministers, Marshal Saldanha and the Duke of Palmella, that she purposed marrying either the Duc de Nemours or the Prince de Joinville, both sons of Louis Philippe. Her selection of the French princes, wrote Lord Howard de Walden,[356] was to be ascribed to the influence of her aunt, the Marquise de Loulé, who was afterwards discovered to have been in the pay of Louis Philippe.[357] The British minister, however, succeeded in obtaining from Saldanha a promise in writing that he would resign, sooner than allow the French marriage to take place.[358] In Paris, meanwhile, Louis Philippe emphatically denied to the British ambassador that he had ever entertained the idea of bringing forward one of his sons as a candidate for the hand of the Queen of Portugal.[359] It seems certain, nevertheless, that some intrigue with that purpose in view had been in progress, and that it was not persevered with on account of the opposition of the British government. In the opinion of Lord Howard de Walden, it was to be attributed to the machinations of the French party at the Court of Lisbon that Queen Maria, about this time, displayed the greatest reluctance to sanction the despatch of a Portuguese division to the assistance of the Christinos.[360] But before long it was announced that she was betrothed to Prince Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg, a nephew of the King of the Belgians. The marriage was celebrated on April 9, 1836, and from that moment the influence of the French party at the Court diminished.
But the proceedings of the French agents at Lisbon and Louis Philippe’s sympathy for the Spanish Carlists were secrets, as yet known only to certain ministers and diplomatists. It was otherwise with the increasing rivalry between the British envoy and the French ambassador accredited to the Court of the Queen Regent at Madrid. It was the subject of comment in the newspapers that France openly favoured the cause of one, whilst England no less ostentatiously gave her support to the other, of the two great political parties which Spanish constitutionalism had called into existence. Most of the leading men in the Cortes had been in exile, until the death of Ferdinand, on account of their participation in the revolutionary movement of 1820. Some, like Martinez de la Rosa, had sought refuge in France, whilst others, prominent among them being the financier Mendizabal, had repaired to England. Their political views had, in consequence, been greatly influenced by the statesmen with whom they had come into contact in the countries in which they had resided. Thus Martinez de la Rosa, whose literary abilities had brought him to the notice of M. Guizot, had adopted the theories of the Doctrinaires and in framing the Estatuto Real—the Spanish Constitution of 1834—he had taken the French Charter of 1814 for his model. His followers, the Moderados as they were called, consisted mainly of the nobility, military and civil officials, and, generally, of persons who, although opposed to Don Carlos, disliked democratic institutions. Their opponents, the Exaltados, or Progressistas, as they were more usually termed, were made up chiefly of members of the trading and commercial classes in the large towns. The extreme wing of this party advocated the restoration of the Constitution of 1812, which recognized the sovereignty of the people and provided for government by a single chamber. It was this code which, in 1820, Riego and his followers had imposed upon King Ferdinand. But, although only the more violent of the Progressistas may have desired that the very defective Constitution of 1812 should be re-established without amendments, the whole party derided the Estatuto Real as too timid an experiment in representative government.
A party, which aimed at imposing salutary checks upon the development of democracy and the leaders of which were in close personal relationship with some of his ministers, was naturally regarded with a friendly eye by Louis Philippe. From 1834 onwards the Moderados derived an artificial strength, which to some extent counterbalanced the numerical superiority of their opponents, by reason of the support given them by Louis Philippe and by Christina, the Queen Regent. It was no less logical that the Progressistas should develop rapidly into “the English party.” For reasons which have already been explained Palmerston desired that Spain should be free and independent. But, before Don Carlos could be crushed and the civil war terminated, the cause of the Queen must be made popular with the Spanish people. From Palmerston’s point of view, therefore, it was essential that political power should rest with the party which sought to place the government upon a broad and national basis. Objectionable in many respects as were the principles of the Progressistas, they were, in the opinion of the British government, unquestionably better adapted to the immediate requirements of the situation than the narrow and restricted views of the Moderados.
The strength of the democratic movement, which had begun at the death of Ferdinand, drove Martinez de la Rosa from office in June, 1835. But his successor, Count Toreno, was not more successful in his efforts to stem the rising tide of Liberalism, and, in the following month of September, Christina reluctantly consented to allow Mendizabal to form a Progressista Cabinet. Louis Philippe and his ministers were greatly annoyed and declared that Toreno’s fall was due to English intrigue.[361] Villiers, it was perfectly true, had taken part in the negotiations which had preceded the change of government. He had discussed the situation, not only with Toreno and Mendizabal, but with the Queen Regent herself. To Christina he explained that he had no authority to speak in the name of the British government. She, however, replied that she required no more than “the advice of an Englishman in whom she had entire confidence.” Villiers, therefore, told her plainly that, inasmuch as she had not the necessary force at her disposal for arresting by violent means the advance of democracy, she must submit to the formation of a more Liberal government. The Queen’s dread of Mendizabal appears to have been overcome temporarily by Villiers’ assurance that that statesman had no intention of restoring the Constitution of 1812.[362]
After the downfall of the Moderados, the French authorities no longer attempted to prevent supplies from reaching the Carlists. Upon the road from Bayonne to Irun, an uninterrupted stream of waggons was to be seen openly conveying stores and provisions of all kinds to the insurgents.[363] The Pretender, wrote Villiers, had received assurances from Louis Philippe that in the future he intended to remain absolutely neutral.[364] To all representations upon this subject, whether made by the British or the Spanish ambassador, the French ministers returned evasive replies. Although from time to time Lord Granville succeeded in extracting a promise that greater vigilance would be exercised upon the frontier, the lucrative trade, which the inhabitants of southern France were carrying on with the armies of the Pretender, was never interfered with seriously.
Mendizabal, in the meantime, was devoting himself assiduously to the task of prosecuting the war against Don Carlos. But his efforts to carry on the operations vigorously were hampered by the penury of the treasury, and by the impossibility of raising a loan abroad. It was under these circumstances that he made a proposal to Mr. Villiers which, when it was divulged to the Duc de Broglie, increased the ill-feeling which was rapidly growing up between the French and the English governments. Modern views about the advantages of unrestricted commercial intercourse had not as yet penetrated into Spain. The imposition of prohibitory duties upon almost all articles made abroad was still regarded as essential for the protection of Spanish trade. England necessarily suffered greatly from this system, which brought no revenue into the Spanish exchequer, and benefited only the smuggler. The question had often been the subject of discussion between the two governments, but Spain had hitherto always evaded her promises to reform her tariff. Mendizabal, however, now undertook that, provided England would guarantee the interest of a loan of a million and a half sterling, Spain would admit the chief articles of British manufacture upon a low scale of duty. Villiers was without authority to conclude any agreement of that kind. But, as Mendizabal assured him that any delay would be most inconvenient, he decided to draw up the necessary documents. The moment the treaty had been signed by Mendizabal and himself, he forwarded it to Palmerston, explaining the reasons which had led him to act without instructions. “The Queen,” he wrote in conclusion, “Mendizabal and his English private secretary, Southern,[365] and himself, were the only persons who had any knowledge of the transaction.”[366]
When the projected agreement and Villiers’ covering despatch reached Paris, whither they had been transmitted, as was the custom, under flying seal, Granville was so impressed with the necessity of keeping the matter secret, that he did not even allow the attachés of his embassy to know of the affair. Furthermore, his own observations upon the subject were conveyed to Lord Palmerston in a private letter. “It will not be liked here,” he warned his chief. “It is already thought that Mendizabal is entirely under English influence, and this admission of English manufactures at a reduced duty, even though purchased by the guarantee of a loan, will very much confirm the impression.”[367] But all these precautions were of no avail. Within a few days, Broglie received intelligence of the transaction both from the French ambassador at Madrid, and from some Spanish agent in Paris. It seems highly probable that the secret was disclosed by Christina herself. Perhaps she wished to ingratiate herself with Louis Philippe, whilst by exposing Mendizabal to his wrath, she may have hoped to facilitate the return to power of the Moderados.
M. de Rayneval having obtained his information “under the seal of the most profound secrecy,”Broglie could not make representations on the subject of the proposed treaty to the British government. Rayneval, however, was directed to protest against it at Madrid, and to warn Mendizabal that, if the affair were to be concluded, “the Quadruple Alliance would certainly undergo modifications of a nature which Spain would regret.”[368] But the British government, in the meanwhile, “whilst fully appreciating the motives which had prompted Villiers to sign the treaty without instructions,” had decided not to advise the King to ratify it. “His Majesty’s government,”wrote Palmerston, “does not consider that it would be consistent with the spirit of the alliance that two out of four should make separately, and without previous communication with the others, an engagement. . . . Great Britain would expose herself to the charge of having severed herself from her allies in order to grasp at an object conducive to her own particular interests.”[369] At the same time, however, he enclosed the project of a new commercial treaty, which Villiers was to invite Mendizabal to consider. England, according to its provisions, asked for no exclusive advantages, the only stipulation being that British goods should be placed upon a footing of equality with those of the most favoured nation. The Spanish minister, however, professed his inability to proceed with the matter. Great Britain’s guarantee to a loan was a condition, he declared, essential to the conclusion of any commercial treaty. The proposal to admit English cotton goods would be deeply resented by Spanish manufacturers, and he must, in consequence, be in a position to show that, by consenting to it, he had gained some great political advantage.[370] Without doubt, also, he was not insensible to Broglie’s threats. He foresaw that, although there was to be no concealment about Palmerston’s treaty, and notwithstanding that France was to be given full information about the negotiations, her objections to the “reciprocal equality,” and “mutual facilities,” for which England stipulated, would not on that account be diminished. Nor was he mistaken. When the matter was revived under the ministry of Comte Molé, that statesman summed up the French case with perfect frankness. Equality of opportunity for trading in Spain, he informed Lord Granville, would act solely for the benefit of England, seeing that the French merchants were possessed of less capital, and were less industrious and enterprising than their British rivals. Palmerston, as may be supposed, entered with zest upon the task of denouncing the selfishness of founding an objection to a reform of the Spanish tariff upon so unworthy a reason.[371]
Broglie’s instructions to Rayneval respecting the commercial treaty were among his last acts as Minister for Foreign Affairs. Parliamentary and other difficulties, in the creation of which Louis Philippe is supposed to have taken a part, brought about the resignation of the government. M. Thiers, thereupon, notwithstanding that he had been a member of Broglie’s Cabinet, undertook to form a new ministry. At the time of the Revolution of July, M. Thiers had been known merely as one of the editors of the National and as the author of a very popular and successful History of the French Revolution. Louis Philippe’s enthronement, in which he had been so prominently concerned, enabled him to abandon journalism and to embark upon the career of a politician. Only two years later, on October 11, 1832, he was appointed Minister of the Interior in Marshal Soult’s first government. In that capacity, by means of a bribe judiciously administered to the Jew Deutz, he succeeded in discovering the hiding-place of the Duchesse de Berri at Nantes—a mystery which, until he took the matter in hand, had baffled the ingenuity of the police. Having accomplished this object and having no desire to be remembered in history as “the Fouché of the Monarchy of July,” he promptly exchanged the portfolio of the Interior for that of Commerce and of Public Works.[372]
Ever since the conclusion of the Quadruple Treaty, Louis Philippe had been quietly endeavouring to improve his relations with the absolute Powers, in general, and with Austria, in particular. Early in the year 1835 he appears to have embarked, without the knowledge of his ministers or of Sainte-Aulaire, the French ambassador at Vienna, upon a confidential correspondence with Metternich.[373] Without doubt, his flattering advances to the Chancellor were made with the hope that a marriage might be arranged between his eldest son, the Duc d’Orléans, and an Austrian Archduchess. Neither Broglie nor Sainte-Aulaire shared the King’s illusions on that subject. Broglie was firmly convinced that there could be no intimacy between the Monarchy of July and the Northern Courts, and it was chiefly on that account that Louis Philippe had been so anxious to drive him from office. But, whilst Louis Philippe had frequently been annoyed by the independence and uncompromising honesty of the Doctrinaire Duke, he had always admired the resourcefulness and political adroitness of M. Thiers. For some time past M. Thiers had been desirous of obtaining the portfolio of Foreign Affairs, and he appears to have satisfied the King that, were it to be confided to him, he would promote the dynastic object which was constantly in His Majesty’s mind. He was, it was said, greatly attracted by the prospect of raising “the matrimonial blockade” which the Legitimists exultingly declared had been established round the Orleans throne.[374]
It has generally been supposed that Talleyrand was largely responsible for the overtures made to the Court of Vienna by Louis Philippe, and for the coolness which set in, about the same time, in the relations of France and England. This view of the case may be correct, but it is difficult to believe that the reasons, usually given to explain his changed attitude towards England, can be true. At the end of the year 1834 Talleyrand had retired from his embassy in London. His advanced age and his increasing infirmities were the reasons officially given for his resignation. It was notorious, however, that he had been frequently annoyed by Palmerston’s unceremonious behaviour towards him, and it has been suggested that the lack of deference with which he had been treated had caused him greatly to modify his opinions about the advantages of a close friendship with England.[375] It is, however, most improbable that Talleyrand, who, up to the time of his departure from London, unceasingly endeavoured to extend the scope of the alliance,[376] should have changed his views completely, because Palmerston may have kept him waiting in an ante-room or may have failed to treat him with that respect to which his age and his long diplomatic career entitled him. Nevertheless, it is not to be denied that, notwithstanding the marked attentions which had been paid him at Court and in London society, he had returned to France in a somewhat dissatisfied frame of mind. The recently published memoirs of the Duchesse de Dino show plainly that, in 1834, he no longer entertained his former admiration for England and English institutions. But it was to the new conditions created by the Reform Act that his altered dispositions should be ascribed. Although he had been in favour of that measure, in his heart he, doubtless, loathed the idea of government by the people. Like Lord Grey himself, once the Bill had become an accomplished fact, he was horrified at the ugly aspect of democracy. Believing, therefore, that Great Britain was advancing rapidly towards a revolution he would naturally counsel Louis Philippe to draw as close as circumstances would permit to conservative Austria.[377] Nor was there anything in this advice which should be regarded as unfriendly towards England. At Vienna in 1814, be it remembered, he had insisted upon the necessity of an alliance between France, Great Britain and Austria, as the only means of checking the insatiable ambition of Russia.
Meanwhile, the civil war in Spain continued and the prospects of the constitutional cause were gloomy. During the summer of 1835, however, the Carlists sustained a loss the magnitude of which was hardly appreciated at the time. Whilst superintending the operations against Bilbao Zumalacárregui sustained a wound and died a few days later. The original injury was of a trifling character and his death has generally been ascribed to the unskilful treatment of the doctors. But Colonel Wylde, as he was returning from his interview with the Pretender on the subject of the Decree of Durango, received some curious details about the last hours of the famous Carlist chief from an English surgeon who had dressed his wound. According to this person, a dose of laudanum, not a Christino bullet, was the cause of death. Furthermore, Wylde’s informant asserted that the doctors had under various pretexts refused to allow the body to be opened. This story, taken in connection with the detestation with which Zumalacárregui was regarded by the Apostolical section of his party, led Wylde to suspect that he might have been the victim of foul play.[378] Be that as it may, his death had an effect upon the cause of absolutism and bigotry which may be compared with that of Dundee at Killikrankie.
The Christinos, however, appeared incapable of taking advantage of the loss which their opponents had sustained. Even Mendizabal was unable to infuse the required energy into the counsels of the Queen’s generals. “Everything,” wrote Wylde on February 12, 1836, “seems to stagnate for want of money.” The British legion had suffered cruelly during the winter. Sickness had thinned its ranks, the pay of officers and men was in arrears, and the whole force was in a state of acute discontent.[379] Under these circumstances the British government decided to intervene more effectually. Hitherto, Lord John Hay’s squadron off the north coast of Spain had only been allowed to transport troops and stores, and to give indirect assistance to the Christinos. But the admiral was now ordered to take an active part in the operations of the Queen’s armies. At the same time, Lord Palmerston’s objections to the entry of a French army into Spain disappeared completely. He asked that the French cordon of observation should be advanced across the frontier and that the valley of Bastan should be occupied. The measure which he proposed “would not entail extensive military operations, but would enable General Cordoba to enclose the Carlists in a small space and to deprive them of all supplies.”[380] The British government, doubtless, hoped that M. Thiers, who had always professed to be in favour of armed intervention, would, now that he was President of the Council, be able to induce Louis Philippe to consent to it. But that illusion, if it was ever entertained, was soon dispelled. The course proposed by Palmerston was incompatible with that policy of conciliating the absolute Courts, upon which M. Thiers had embarked. He was, consequently, compelled to explain to Lord Granville that he had altogether changed his mind about the expediency of intervention, owing to the wide development of the Carlist insurrection, and to the revolutionary character which the government at Madrid had recently assumed. Louis Philippe expressed himself in more emphatic language. Never, he told the British ambassador, would he allow the French flag to be carried beyond the frontier.[381]
The unsatisfactory progress of the war necessarily had a damaging effect upon the position of Mendizabal’s Cabinet. Dissensions broke out among his followers, and Christina, who had only accepted him with reluctance, most unwisely decided to dismiss him. She had been prompted to take this disastrous step, Palmerston suspected, by her French advisers.[382] The dissolution of the Cortes, which the change of ministry entailed, was followed by a most suspicious inaction on the part of the Queen’s generals. The Carlists, on the other hand, displayed unwonted activity. Insurgent bands penetrated to within twenty miles of La Granja, where the Queen Regent was in residence. Ramon Cabrera, “the Tiger of the Maestrargo,” who, as a reprisal for the murder of his mother, refused to recognize the Eliot Convention, desolated Aragon, whilst de Lacy Evans, on July 11, 1836, suffered a reverse at Fuentarabia, on which occasion all the British prisoners were shot, in accordance with the Pretender’s decree.[383] Meanwhile, the Progressistas were carrying all before them at the elections, and their victories were followed by grave revolutionary outbreaks. But neither civil disorder nor military disasters could rouse M. Isturiz, the new President of the Council, or his colleagues to action. In the words of Mr. Villiers, “they appeared to consider that calmness in adversity constituted the whole duty of the responsible advisers of the crown.”[384]
The condition of affairs rapidly assumed a most alarming appearance. The Constitution of 1812, was proclaimed in many of the chief towns. At Madrid, Quesada, the Captain-General, disarmed the national guards, and declared the city in a state of siege, whilst at La Granja, the Queen Regent announced her firm intention of resisting the demands of the revolutionists. But, on the evening of August 12, her guards mutinied, and, led by their sergeants, invaded the palace. On two nights in succession, the unfortunate Christina was compelled to receive deputations of non-commissioned officers, many of whom were under the influence of liquor. Circumstanced as she was, with no loyal troops at her disposal, she had no alternative but to yield. After promising to accept the Constitution of 1812, to raise the state of siege, and to re-establish the national guards, she was allowed to depart for the capital. But when the news of these events reached Madrid, the people rose, murdered Quesada, and carried his head in triumph through the streets. Order was, however, gradually restored by Calatrava, the Progressista minister, whom the revolted sergeants had imposed upon Christina.[385]
Some weeks before these events took place M. Thiers had had to abandon all hope of bringing his matrimonial negotiations to a successful conclusion. It was in vain that he had refused to join with England in protesting against the Austrian occupation of the free town of Cracow. It was to no purpose that he had forced the Federal government to expel all political refugees from Switzerland. The Duc d’Orléans’[386] proposal for the hand of an Austrian Archduchess was declined. In order to hide his discomfiture and to punish Metternich, M. Thiers resolved to take up the Spanish affair vigorously. Direct intervention, however, he looked upon as out of the question. Not only would the King oppose it, but it would be very unpopular with the country. Nevertheless, by a process to which he gave the name of “armed co-operation” he proposed to attain the desired result. He prepared, accordingly, largely to reinforce the French legion in Spain, which he intended should be commanded by some well-known general. Louis Philippe reluctantly assented to these initial proceedings, but, when the news arrived of the military revolt at La Granja, he promptly placed his veto upon all measures of that kind. Never, he declared, would he allow assistance to be supplied to the Jacobins in power at Madrid.[387] Thiers and his fellow-ministers, in consequence, resigned.
Under Molé, to whom the King confided the portfolio of Foreign Affairs and the formation of a new Cabinet, France for all practical purposes withdrew from the Quadruple Treaty. The depôts formed by Thiers were broken up and three battalions, which he had raised for the service of Queen Isabella, were sent to Algiers. It would be highly dangerous, Molé informed the British ambassador, to expose French soldiers to the influence of the revolutionary societies in Spain.[388] In vain Lord Palmerston protested that in no way could the spirit of anarchy be combated so effectually as by the expulsion of Don Carlos from the Peninsula.[389] That argument and his contention that the stability of the Orleans monarchy depended upon the triumph of the constitutional cause in Spain were alike unheeded.[390] In order to show their displeasure at the manner in which the French government was thus evading its engagements, Lord Melbourne and his colleagues decided to omit the customary reference to France from the King’s Speech at the opening of Parliament in 1837. But the “no mention” incident, although it caused Louis Philippe the keenest annoyance and created a great sensation in Paris,[391] had no effect upon Molé’s resolution to refuse assistance of any kind to the government at Madrid. The only safe policy for France, the King informed Granville a few months later, was to look upon Spain as infected with the plague and to have as little communication with her as possible.[392]
Although Calatrava, whom the sergeants at La Granja had raised to the head of the Queen Regent’s government, was invariably spoken of by Louis Philippe and Comte Molé as a dangerous revolutionist, he was far from deserving that appellation. Not only was he successful in infusing a certain vigour into the conduct of the war, but he contrived, in addition, to frame a constitution which, in spite of its imperfections, effected a happy compromise between the Jacobinical code of 1812 and the ultra-monarchical Estatuto Real. The year 1836 closed with a brilliant success for the arms of the Queen Regent. Powerfully assisted by the bluejackets and marines of Lord John Hay’s squadron, the Christinos stormed the formidable lines of Luchana and relieved the city of Bilbao. Henceforward the name of Baldomero Espartero, the victorious general, was to figure very prominently in Spanish politics. Nevertheless, during the campaign of the ensuing year, complete success appeared to be within the grasp of the Pretender. Eluding Espartero, who was preparing to attack him in the Basque provinces, Don Carlos, who had been liberally supplied with money by the Tsar and the Kings of the Netherlands[393] and of Sardinia, marched southwards on Madrid. But, when the capital lay at their mercy, his generals were ordered to retrace their footsteps, recross the Ebro and re-enter the northern provinces.
Various reasons have been given for the sudden retreat of the Carlists from before Madrid.[394] The most probable explanation appears to be that Don Carlos had secretly arranged with Christina that, upon the arrival of his army in the vicinity of the capital, the gates were to be thrown open, and that the marriage of his son with Isabella was to be announced and peace proclaimed.[395] It would seem, however, that at the last moment Christina decided that this scheme was impracticable and the Pretender, finding, in consequence, that no movement in his favour was likely to break out in Madrid, gave the order to retreat. The remainder of the year 1837 was spent by the Carlist leaders in fierce quarrels and bitter recriminations. But the condition of the Queen’s armies was still more pitiable. Officers and men were unpaid and wholly without confidence in their generals. Horrible excesses were committed by the mutinous regiments. Generals Escalera and Sarsfield were murdered by their men, and, although Espartero upon his arrival from Madrid, succeeded in restoring some semblance of discipline, he dared not undertake offensive operations with troops so completely demoralized.
The Pretender’s advance upon Madrid proved fatal to the Calatrava Cabinet. That government, which had been created by the action of the sergeants at La Granja, was destroyed by a pronunciamento on the part of the officers of a brigade which had been hurried south, when Don Carlos was threatening the capital.[396] The downfall of the Progressista Cabinet was, doubtless, one of the reasons which led the Queen Regent to break her compact with the Pretender. A transition ministry was formed, whilst Christina cautiously prepared to recall the Moderados. Throughout the country party differences were submerged in the general desire for peace, and the opinion was rapidly gaining ground that, without French assistance, the Pretender could never be expelled. This idea was sedulously encouraged by the Court party, and, as was suspected, by agents of the French government. These conditions at the elections, at the close of the year 1837, produced an overwhelming majority for the Moderados. It was soon evident, however, that the electors had been completely deluded in imagining that the triumph of the Conservative party would be followed by French intervention. The political effacement of the Progressistas had not altered the determination of Louis Philippe and Comte Molé to withhold all assistance from the government of the Queen Regent.[397]
Villiers, the British minister at Madrid, was now convinced that in the dissensions of the Carlists lay the only hope of preserving the crown for Isabella. The animosity was extreme between the Provinciales, whose chief object in supporting the Pretender was to ensure the maintenance of their highly prized Fueros, and the Castillanos, as that section of the party was called which followed the lead of the fanatical Bishop of Léon.[398] In order to widen this breach Villiers instructed Lieutenant Turner, a British officer attached to the division of the Queen’s army at Pampeluna, to open up a secret communication with the discontented Navarrese chiefs. Turner experienced little difficulty in executing his mission, and was soon able to report that the men of Biscay and Navarre would be prepared to discuss terms of peace upon the basis of the recognition of their local rights and privileges. But all the leaders with whom he had conferred had stipulated that any compromise which, might be arrived at, must have the guarantee of Great Britain.[399]
The news of these proceedings was most agreeable to Lord Palmerston, who forthwith drew up precise instructions for the future conduct of the negotiations. Whilst suggesting that on the subject of the Fueros the Queen Regent’s government would be well advised to make concessions, he laid it down distinctly that Great Britain could not guarantee the conditions of peace.[400] A copy of this despatch was sent to Lord Granville in Paris, who was directed to invite the French government to act with England in the affair. In Palmerston’s opinion it was most important to draw France “into an open and avowed mediation for the purpose of reuniting the northern provinces to the rest of the Spanish dominions.”[401] He was convinced that Louis Philippe cherished secret hopes that the civil war might lead to the secession of Biscay and Navarre and their incorporation into France. There can be little doubt that he was entirely mistaken in imagining that either the King of the French or his ministers entertained any views of this kind. It is possible, however, that the separatist movement, which unquestionably existed in Catalonia, may have been encouraged by French agents, with the object of preventing the conclusion of a commercial treaty with England. The threat of the manufacturers of Barcelona that the Catalans would proclaim their independence, should the duty upon English cotton goods be lowered, was one of the chief reasons which deterred the Cabinet of Madrid from accepting Palmerston’s commercial proposals.[402]
Louis Philippe, however, would not hear of allowing the French ambassador to be the organ of any communications with the discontented Carlist chieftains. He had been accused most unfairly, he told Lord Granville, of sympathizing with Don Carlos, and to accede to the British request would expose him to further suspicion.[403] A new French ambassador was at this moment about to proceed to Madrid, who appears to have been admirably adapted for the part which the King desired that his envoy should play at Christina’s Court, whilst the issue of the struggle between constitutionalism and absolutism was so extremely uncertain. “A more inoffensive person,”wrote the British chargé d’affaires about a year later, “than the Duc de Fezensac does not exist. He has no political principles and has never taken the slightest interest in the questions which agitate the country. I have observed that, as a soldier, he would now and then demonstrate some curiosity about the movements of the armies and seem glad when the advantage had been on the side of the Queen’s troops.”[404]
In the meantime Mr. Turner’s secret relations with the Navarrese chiefs had been betrayed. The sudden imprisonment of the disaffected officers and the murder of one of his emissaries compelled him to suspend his proceedings.[405] A counter-insurrection, however, broke out against Don Carlos to the cry of “Peace and the Fueros,” under the leadership of an individual named Muñagorri. From Bayonne, where “the French authorities coldly permitted him to remain,” he endeavoured to foment disaffection in, and to encourage desertion from, the Pretender’s armies.[406] Villiers at one time expected great results from this new development, but, before long, he was forced to realize that Muñagorri, a Basque lawyer, had not the influence required for bringing the enterprise to a successful conclusion.[407]
Never, in the opinion of both Villiers and of Wylde, had the constitutional cause presented so gloomy an appearance as in the closing months of the year 1838. The Queen’s generals had suffered heavy defeats in the open field and Espartero had been compelled to abandon his operations against Morella, Cabrera’s stronghold. Political rather than strategical considerations appear to have dictated the conduct of the campaign. Fearing that Espartero might grow too powerful, the Cabinet was suspected of having deliberately neglected to reinforce him, whilst keeping his rival and enemy, Narvaez, who commanded the army of reserve, liberally supplied with troops.[408] In England no minister would have ventured to propose that any further assistance, either in men or money, should be sent to the Christinos, who had greatly fallen in the public estimation. The commercial classes were indignant that, notwithstanding the help which the Queen’s cause had received, prohibitory duties upon British manufactures should still be maintained. The newspapers were full of the complaints of the soldiers of the legion, who had returned home with their claims upon the Spanish treasury unsatisfied. The policy of encouraging these men to enter Isabella’s services was now universally condemned. The good name of the British army had, it was feared, suffered from their misconduct at the seat of war. The action of the government, in conferring a knighthood of the Bath upon De Lacy Evans, in no way lessened this impression.[409]
But, in the early spring of 1839, the news arrived of strange proceedings in the Pretender’s camp. Maroto, the Carlist commander-in-chief, having discovered the existence of a plot to overthrow him, had caused four general officers to be shot at Estella, on February 18. Don Carlos, who was in secret sympathy with the conspirators, thereupon deprived Maroto of his command and proclaimed him a traitor. That officer, however, knew that he could count upon the devotion of his men, and he, accordingly, boldly marched upon Tolosa, where the wretched Don Carlos was residing, and compelled him both to revoke his decree and to dismiss his Apostolical advisers. But Maroto, although he had on this occasion triumphed so completely, was well aware that at any moment his troops might turn against him, and that his life depended upon a speedy termination of the war. Notwithstanding that Turner’s attempts to incite the Navarrese chieftains to rebellion had failed, and that Muñagorri’s insurrection had practically collapsed, the longing for peace had not diminished among the men of Biscay and Navarre. After the executions at Estella and his coercion of Don Carlos, Maroto had no alternative but to adopt the popular cry of “Paz y Fueros.” Instead of an obscure lawyer, the commander-in-chief of the Pretender’s armies was now at the head of the counter-insurrection against him.[410]
Whilst the Carlist general had thus the strongest possible inducement for coming to terms with the Christinos, other circumstances had arisen which contributed to the undoing of the Pretender. Espartero was now all powerful and in a position to carry on the war, untrammelled by the intrigues of the Court and of the Cabinet.[411] In France Molé had fallen and Soult was once more at the head of the government. The Marshal, in the previous year, had represented Louis Philippe at the coronation of Queen Victoria, and had returned to France delighted with the welcome accorded him in London by all classes of the population.[412] He was, consequently, very well disposed towards England and far more inclined than any of his predecessors to act up to the spirit of the Quadruple Treaty. No sooner was he in power than orders were sent to the French ships, stationed off the north coast of Spain, identical in every respect with those with which the British admiral was furnished. At the same time, the authorities upon the frontier were strictly enjoined both to prevent supplies from reaching the Carlists and to embarrass the movements of the Pretender’s armies by all means in their power.[413]
Maroto’s first definite proposals of peace seem to have been made to Lord John Hay, either on July 27 or 28. It is probable, however, that for some time past he had been in more or less direct communication with Espartero, with whom he had served in South America. The negotiations, once formally begun, continued for the next month. Espartero, however, wisely refused to grant any suspension of hostilities, and, whilst showing himself always ready to listen to reasonable proposals, pushed on his military operations vigorously. The question which proved the most difficult of settlement was that of the Fueros, which the Biscayans and Navarrese stipulated must be maintained in their integrity. The Queen Regent’s government, in accordance with Palmerston’s advice, was only prepared to make such concessions with regard to them, as might be compatible with the representative form of government which Spain had adopted. The recognition of the sovereignty of Isabella, the regency of Christina and the Constitution of 1837 were also insisted upon. Colonel Wylde was present at most of the conferences which took place. He was authorized to explain to any Carlist officers, with whom he might be enabled to converse, that, “although it would not be consistent with the dignity of the Spanish nation that Her Majesty’s government should guarantee any arrangement, they could rely upon the good offices of the British government should, at any time, the government of Madrid depart from its agreements.”[414]
Espartero’s skilful conduct of the negotiations, combined with the personal reasons which made it imperative for Maroto to conclude a peace, triumphed at last over all obstacles. On August 29, a convention was signed at Vergara settling the points in dispute and providing for the capitulation of Maroto’s army. Two days later the 21 battalions specified in the treaty marched into the camp of the Christinos and, having been harangued by Espartero, proceeded to fraternize joyfully with the Queen’s troops.[415] Don Carlos, nevertheless, was still able to command the fidelity of a certain number of his regiments. But Espartero, the moment the capitulation of Maroto’s people had been completed, pressed these remnants of the insurgent army with the utmost vigour. Their resistance was soon overcome, and, on September 15, 1839, Don Carlos with a few thousand followers was driven across the frontier. On reaching French territory they were at once disarmed, the Pretender and the members of his family being conveyed to Bourges, where they were detained under strict supervision. It was not without difficulty that Louis Philippe’s ministers had obtained his consent to that measure of precaution.
Although Don Carlos had abandoned the struggle, Cabrera in the Maestrargo, and the no less bloodthirsty Count of España in Catalonia, still carried on the war with ruthless barbarity. In November, however, España, having incurred the displeasure of the Carlist junta, was removed from his command. His body shortly afterwards was taken out of the river Segre “tied neck and heels.”[416] Without doubt he had been murdered by the escort which was supposed to convey him to a place of confinement. But it was not till the month of July, 1840, that Espartero succeeded in driving Cabrera and his lieutenant, Balmaceda, into France and in breaking up the last of the Carlist bands.
Spain, however, was not destined to enjoy the blessings of internal peace and tranquillity. Christina had never really accepted the principles of constitutional government, and most of the leading Moderados shared her dislike to democratic institutions. With the object, accordingly, of rendering nugatory certain of the Liberal provisions of the constitution the party, during the session of 1840, introduced a bill abolishing the election of municipal officers, and establishing a system under which they were, in the future, to be appointed by the central government. The Spaniards, however, have always been tenacious of their municipal rights and privileges, and the proposed law was, in consequence, greatly disliked by the people. The Queen Regent and her Moderado advisers would have cared little for popular opposition, provided always that they could have obtained the support of one man. “Espartero,” in the words of Mr. Southern, the British chargé d’affaires, “now formed one of the bodies of the State.”[417] The general who had succeeded in terminating the civil war was, for the time being, the idol of the nation.
Espartero, however, was deaf to the blandishments of the Moderados, and publicly declared that he regarded the municipal bill as unconstitutional.[418] Christina, nevertheless, was confident that he would never resist her personal appeal. She had always recognized the importance of winning his gratitude. For his services he had been created Count of Luchana, Duke de la Victoria, and a Spanish grandee of the first class. After his capture of Cabrera’s stronghold, in 1840, she had conferred upon him the additional title of Duke of Morella. When the municipal law was under discussion in the Chamber, she suddenly announced her intention of proceeding to Caldes, near Barcelona, with Isabella, who was alleged to have been ordered sea bathing. But the significance of her journey to the coast lay in the fact that it would enable her to meet, and to confer with, Espartero, who was directing the final operations in Cabrera’s country.[419] Her interview with the all-powerful general took place, in due course, at Lerida, but it disappointed her expectations. Espartero advised her strongly to refuse her assent to the bill, although it had been passed by both Chambers. It was notorious that the Moderado majority had been obtained by means of corruption and intimidation at the elections of the previous year, and that it in no way represented the will of the nation. Christina wavered. At one time she decided to follow the counsels of Espartero, at another she resolved to adhere firmly to her Moderado policy. Meanwhile, the country was growing dangerously excited, and Barcelona was the scene of serious rioting. Christina, in consequence, decided to move the Court to Valencia, where O’Donnell, on whom she could depend, commanded the troops. Upon her arrival, she boldly announced that she purposed to commission Modesto Cortazar, a former minister of Joseph Bonaparte, to form an ultra-Moderado Cabinet. At the news, the country rose, juntas sprang into existence in the principal towns, and a provisional government was established at Madrid.[420]
Villiers was no longer at Madrid. On succeeding to the earldom of Clarendon, he had returned home, where a seat in the Cabinet had been found for him. When he learnt of the critical state of affairs in Spain, Palmerston at once directed Mr. Aston, Clarendon’s successor, to seek out Christina, wherever she might be, and to attempt to convince her of the imprudence of the course upon which she had embarked.[421] But before he could reach Valencia, she had abandoned the struggle, and had sullenly surrendered the direction of affairs to Espartero. She fully intended, she informed Aston at his first audience, to resign the regency, and no words of his could turn her from her resolution.[422] It was not alone the desire to avoid the disagreeable necessity of having to accept a Progressista government which had prompted her to arrive at this decision. Gonzalez Bravo and the Radicals possessed the proof of her marriage to Nuñoz, the guardsman, by whom she had already had several children. In order to retain the regency, and especially the emoluments appertaining to it, she had allowed it to be generally believed that she was the mistress of the handsome and low-born soldier. But now that her secret had been betrayed, her marriage might be adduced at any moment as a reason for declaring her incompetent to hold the post of Regent.[423] Only by a voluntary abdication could she escape from this further humiliation. Accordingly, on October 12, 1840, she signed the act whereby she resigned the regency, and left it to the Cortes to appoint her successor. A few days later she parted from her daughters, and set out for France. On May 18 of the following year, Espartero was duly elected Regent, whilst Argüelles, a veteran Progressista, was nominated guardian of Queen Isabella.
Christina’s abdication passed almost unnoticed outside Spain. The quarrel between the Sultan and the Pasha had broken out afresh, and England and France were upon the verge of war.