I have said, that a great proportion of the regular clergy also are Carlists. I know that many are not; because many are intelligent men, who have at all events the acuteness to perceive, that a more despotic government would not secure its permanency; and whose alarm at the progress of liberalism in the world, is not so great as that of the friars. But the majority of the priesthood are ignorant; and the majority are therefore Carlists. Besides, their interest lies that way—the head of the church in Spain, the Archbishop of Toledo, is the head of the party; the Archbishop of Seville is one of its warmest partizans; and almost all the archbishops and bishops, hold similar sentiments: the curate, therefore, who envies the luxuries of a canon, must both profess his adherence to that party, and employ his influence in its favour.
To the friars, the priests, and the lower orders, I have added a part of the military, as partizans of the Carlists; I might also include a considerable number of the employées. That such is the fact, I have had many personal proofs, as well as information from the most authentic sources. The reason alleged by those in government employment, whether civil or military, for being favourably disposed towards that party which would rather see Don Carlos than Ferdinand at the head of the government, is, the indecision of the king’s character. They say that merit is not rewarded; that services are not requited; that promotion is not upon a footing of justice; and that neither in civil nor military service, is there any dependence upon government favour, which shines or is withdrawn by caprice—which favouritism purchases, and slander destroys. All this they ascribe, and probably with justice, to the king’s want of character: and the idea among them is very general, that under Don Carlos, a system of greater justice, and impartiality, and decision, would be pursued in every department of the state. I have sometimes wished, when I have heard these good qualities attributed to Don Carlos, that he possessed, along with them, some of those other virtues which Spain requires in a sovereign: there might, in that case, be a more speedy prospect of happiness for Spain.
Such appear to me to be the elements of the party called Carlists,—the strongest in numbers and wealth, and the weakest in intelligence.
Classing the parties according to their numerical strength, I must next mention the party called Liberals; but generally, in England, known by the name of Constitutionalists. If, by this party, be meant those who desire a return to the Constitution of 1820; or who would be satisfied to leave the settlement of the government to the wisdom of an army of refugees,—there is no such party in Spain: but if, by the liberal party, we are to understand those who perceive the vices of the present government, and who dread still more the ascendancy of the Carlists; those who view with satisfaction the progress of enlightened opinions in politics and in religion, and who desire earnestly that Spain should be gradually assimilated in her institutions, with the other civilized nations of Europe,—then the liberal party comprises the principal intelligence of the country; and subtracting from the population, the lowest orders, the employées, the friars, and the priests, it possesses a great numerical majority. In any other country than Spain, this party would wield an influence to which its numerical strength would not entitle it; but in Spain, the light of intellect spreads but a little way; for it has to struggle with the thick mists of ignorance and superstition; and when we say that the liberal party comprises nearly all the intelligence of the country, it must be remembered, that intelligence is but scantily sprinkled over the face of Spain; and that, therefore, enlightened Spain, and enlightened England, ought to convey very different ideas of numerical strength.
It is a curious fact, that the adherents of the existing government should be the fewest in number; yet, this is certainly the truth. With the exception of perhaps the majority of the employées, a part of the regular clergy, and the greater part of the army, its friends are very thinly scattered; and its influence scarcely extends beyond the sphere of its actual benefits. Its patronage has been greatly circumscribed since the lost of the Americas; its lucrative appointments are centred in a few; and above all, its power and patronage are held by so uncertain a tenure, that few, excepting those in the actual enjoyment of office, feel any assurance that their interests lie in supporting that which seems to hang together almost by a miracle.
The only security of a despotic government is strength; and this security the Spanish government wants altogether. It has no strength in the affections of the people generally; and even among the military and employées, which are its only strength, there are many disaffected. When the king returned, after the overthrow of the constitution, every measure was adopted that might give a fictitious strength to the government: a clean sweep was made of all the employées, from the highest to the lowest; and whether holding their offices for life, or at pleasure. These, under the constitution, had been selected from amongst the best educated classes; but all who had been connected with the liberal party being excluded from employment under the succeeding government, the public offices were necessarily filled up with persons of inferior station. Another stroke of policy was intended, in the distribution of office: in no country is there so great a division of labour in public employments as in Spain; the duties of an office formerly held by one person, were delegated to three, and the emoluments split in proportion,—by which policy, a greater number of persons were interested in upholding the government.
A third measure of policy I have mentioned in a former chapter; that of remodelling the universities, and seminaries of learning, and putting them under the superintendence of Jesuits: and a fourth, was intended to secure the fidelity and increase the numerical strength of the military. To effect the first of these objects, a new body of guards, in all nearly 20,000 men, was raised, and officered by children. The king said, he would not have a single officer in the guards old enough to understand the meaning of the word constitution; and even now, that several years have elapsed, the officers are, almost without exception, boys.
To protect the government by the numerical strength of military, his majesty invited the organization of a force to be called Royalist Volunteers, to come in place of the national volunteers who existed during the time of the constitution. The term volunteer was a misnomer; because government held out temptations irresistible to the lower classes,—a new suit of clothes, and pay two days in the week, besides some other little gratuities: the consequence was, that a body called Royalist Volunteers, amounting to about 160,000, was speedily embodied. Such were the measures adopted by a government that sought to base itself, not upon the affections of the people, or upon its own merits; but which trusted rather in the zeal of hirelings, the precepts of Jesuits, and the purchased bulwark of bayonets. But these acts of political sagacity have added little to the real strength of the government: the change of all men in public office, made as many enemies as friends; and the exclusion of so many educated men, created a necessity for the employment of many low and unprincipled men, who by their bad conduct, have helped to lower the government in public opinion. The fetters put upon education offended many,—because the change from a better to a worse plan of education was soon perceived by the heads of families, in the more limited range of knowledge offered to their children; and the establishment of a volunteer force, is well known throughout Spain to have endangered, rather than strengthened the government. That force is composed for the most part of the lowest orders; and it is quite a matter of notoriety, that the great majority of these men are Carlists,—a thing proved indeed by the discovery of the conspiracy, in which they had agreed to take an active part.
With such elements as those which compose the adherents of government, and with so total an absence of that kind of support to which alone an absolute government dare trust, it seems impossible that the existing government can long maintain its authority; and the probability of its dissolution will appear the greater, by citing a few facts, proving its utter rottenness; its perfect contempt of honour and justice in its dealings with its subjects; and its constant and flagrant acts of oppression. I cannot well separate the examples, because the bad acts of the government are not simply oppression, or injustice; but compounds of oppression, injustice, and weakness. I shall take them as they present themselves to my memory.
While I was in Madrid, a grandee, a favourite at court, whose name I regret I cannot recollect, being deeply in debt, and harassed by his creditors, and unwilling, although extremely wealthy, to limit the number of his enjoyments, went to the king and laid the case before his royal master; who, sympathizing in the pecuniary distress of the noble, exercised the prerogative of a king who is above law, by immediately presenting him with a royal order, by which he was secured in the undisturbed possession of his revenues for ten years,—his creditors being interdicted during that time from making any demand upon their debtor. The grandee called his creditors together; and when they supposed they were about to be paid, he produced the royal order, against which there was no appeal. No act of oppression could be more base than this; it was a total suspension of law, exercised without reason; a royal license to commit robbery; and of the worst kind, the robbery of the poor by the rich. It is more than probable, however, that before the lapse of ten years, the signature of Ferdinand VII. will have ceased to inspire fear, or exact obedience.