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.