Whilst this was happening in Fontainebleau, the plot was thickening in Madrid. The star of Don Juan was visibly on the wane. The adherents of Mariana grew bolder daily; some of them, like the Duke of Osuna, dared to come to Court in spite of prohibition; and Don Juan lived in daily fear that the King would slip through his hands and join his mother in Toledo. In order to divert him from visiting Aranjuez, which is within riding distance of Toledo, all sorts of pretexts were invented, and the surveillance of the old Queen by Don Juan’s agents became more insulting than ever. Mme. D’Aulnoy narrates a conversation with Don Juan at the time, which may well be authentic.[[281]] ‘She asked him if it was true that the Queen-Mother had written to the King requesting him to see her, and that he had refused. The prince admitted that it was, and that this was the sole reason that had prevented his Majesty from going to Aranjuez, for fear that she might go there and see him, in spite of the orders given to her not to leave Toledo. “What, sir,” I cried; “The King refuses to see his mother!” “Say rather,” he replied, “that reasons of State prevent monarchs from following their own inclinations when they clash with the public interest. We have a maxim in the Council of State always to be guided by the spirit of the great Emperor Charles V. in all difficult questions.”‘... ‘It was quite evident to me,’ concludes Mme. D’Aulnoy, ‘that Don Juan accommodated the genius of Charles V. to suit his own.’[[282]]
Don Juan had grown colder towards the French match as time went on. He had, indeed, endeavoured more than once to obstruct or frustrate it by suggesting impossible conditions; but even Charles II. had plucked up some semblance of manhood with his approaching marriage to the original of the portrait that had so enraptured him, and gave his half-brother to understand that he meant to have his own way, in this and in other things.[[283]] Don Juan had very soon understood that the appearance of Marie Louise in Spain, with the influence of Louis XIV. behind her, would mean his own downfall; and the arrival of the Marquis of Villars, the French ambassador, with instructions from his master not to accede to the ambitious claims of Don Juan to receive the ambassador seated and to give his hand as a royal prince, led to infinite negotiation. Louis was determined that the bastard of Philip IV. should not be treated by his ambassador as royal, unless his own illegitimate offspring enjoyed the same privilege; and Villars was instructed not to negotiate with Don Juan at all unless he gave way.[[284]] Louis also instructed Villars to proceed to Toledo and salute Mariana; and Don Juan knew that with the Queen-Mother’s interest, the French interest, and most of Spain against him, his government was doomed to an early extinction.
The knowledge killed him; and before Marie Louise had reached the Spanish frontier the news came to her that Don Juan was dead, 17th September. He had suffered for many weeks from double tertian fevers, and his anxiety had increased the malady. The King, he knew, was already holding conferences of nobles, plotting to escape to his mother and decree his half-brother’s dismissal. On all sides those upon whom he had depended now opposed him, and some of his old enemies had already claimed the right, in virtue of their rank and offices, to go and attend the new Queen. In these circumstances it is not necessary to seek, as many contemporaries did, to explain his death by accusations against Mariana and her friends of poisoning him; but there is no denying that his death was most opportune for them, and was welcome to the whole nation, as ensuring some degree of harmony under the new regime that was to commence with the King’s marriage. Don Juan’s dying ears were dinned by the explosion of fireworks from his own windows, in celebration of the wedding at Fontainebleau, so little regard was paid to him; and hardly had the breath left his body when Charles ran to seek his mother at Toledo, and, with tears and embraces on both sides, a reconciliation was effected. It had all been the wicked bastard’s fault, and henceforward all would go well.
Mariana managed her triumphant return with tact and skill. She had left the Court after Valenzuela’s fall intensely unpopular; but much had happened since then. Don Juan had proved a whitened sepulchre; the detested Austrian match for the King was at an end, the cordiality shown by Mariana towards the new marriage pleased the people, and a warm welcome greeted her as she rode in state by her son’s side in the great swaying coach with the curtains drawn back,[[285]] to the palace of the Buen Retiro which was to be her residence until her own house was prepared.
All the Court was eager to know what part Mariana would in future take in the government. Would she be, as of yore, the sole dispenser of bounty and the only fountain of power? Would she avenge herself upon Don Juan’s friends as he had avenged himself upon hers, or would she leave the dominating influence to her son’s young wife? Mariana had learnt wisdom by experience, and walked warily. She was no lover of the French match; but she knew that open opposition to it would alienate the King and exasperate the country, and she smilingly played the part of the fond mother who rejoiced at her son’s happiness. Everybody, moreover, and especially the King, was so busy with the marriage that there was neither time nor inclination for politics; and until the King’s departure to meet his bride he was closeted every day in loving converse with his mother, talking only of his coming happiness. Fortunately the treasure-fleet from America arrived in the nick of time, and, for a wonder, there was no lack of money, which not only added to the good humour of the people, but enabled the preparations for the reception of Marie Louise on the Spanish side to be made upon a scale approaching the costly pageantry of former times.
The splendid entertainments at Fontainebleau ended at last; and on the 20th September 1679, the young Queen rode out of the beautiful park on the first stage of the long voyage to her new country. She sat silently in the coach with King Louis and his wife, and the one man upon whom her heart was set, the young Dauphin, whose eyes were red with tears. At La Chapelle, two leagues from Fontainebleau, the long cavalcade stopped, for here Marie Louise was to take an eternal farewell of most of those she loved. As she stepped from Queen Maria Theresa’s carriage and entered one belonging to the King that was to bear her to the frontier, every eye was wet with tears, and the common folk who witnessed the leave-taking cried aloud with grief. Only Marie Louise, with fixed face and stony eyes, was mute. But when the last farewell was said, and the Queen’s carriage with the Dauphin turned to leave, one irrepressible wail of sorrow was wrung from the heart of the poor girl, as she sank back fainting upon the cushions of the carriage by her father’s side.[[286]]
Through France, by short stages, and followed by a great household under the Duke of Harcourt and the Maréchale Clerambant, as mistress of the robes, the young Queen made her way, splendidly entertained by the cities through which she passed; for to them the marriage meant peace with Spain, and rich and poor blessed her for her beauty and her sacrifice. The Marquis of Balbeses, the Spanish ambassador and his wife, a Colonna, rode in her train, and at Poictiers the latter brought her the news of Don Juan’s unregretted death. The Marchioness happened to be wearing a black silk handkerchief at her neck; and, lightly touching it, and smiling, she said: ‘This is all the mourning I am going to wear for him.’[[287]] Thenceforward to the sad end Marie Louise had to deal with those who, with smiling face and soft speeches, were secretly bent upon her ruin; and she, a bright beauty full of strength and the joy of life, hungry for the love that had been denied her, was no match, even if she had cared to struggle with them, for the false hearts and subtle brains that planned the shipwreck of her life.
The household of the new Queen, which had been chosen by Don Juan before his death, started from the capital towards the frontier on the 26th September, and already intrigue was rife amongst the courtiers to gain ascendency over the young consort of the King. The master of the household, the Marquis of Astorga, was mainly famous for his gallantry, and had been a firm friend of Don Juan; whilst the mistress of the robes, the Duchess of Terranova in her own right, was a stern grand dame of sixty, whose experience, like that of Astorga, had been principally Italian, and of whom some whispered that ‘she knew more about carbines and daggers than about thimbles and needles.’[[288]] However that may be, she was imperious and punctilious to the last degree, but kept Marie Louise in the right way as she understood it; though, as we shall see, the roughness of her methods disgusted the young Queen and hastened the inevitable catastrophe.[[289]] Close upon the heels of the official household went some of Mariana’s friends, especially the Duke of Osuna, appointed Grand Equerry, and an Italian priest, who aspired to the post of Queen’s confessor; and even before she entered Spain began to whisper to Marie Louise political counsels intended to betray her.
Once again on the historic banks of the Bidasoa, and on the island of Pheasants that had seen so many regal meetings, sumptuous pavilions of silk brocade and tapestry were erected. Marie Louise at St. Jean de Luz, a few miles away, was sick at heart, in spite of all the splendour that surrounded her; and she could not suppress her tears as she stood upon the last foot of French soil she was ever to touch, ready to enter the gilded barge that was to cross the few feet of water that separated her from the little gaily decked neutral island where the Marquis of Astorga was to receive her on bended knee as his sovereign mistress.
The rule of the formidable old Duchess of Terranova began the moment Marie Louise stepped into the barge that was to land her on the Spanish bank. The Queen was dressed in the graceful garb that prevailed in the Court of Louis XIV. The soft yielding skirts and square cut bodice with abundance of fine lace at neck and wrists were coquettishly feminine. The bright brown hair of the bride was curled and frizzed at the sides and on the brow, in artful little ringlets, and all this grace and prettiness looked to the Spanish ladies of the old school indecorous, if not positively indecent. Their vast wide-hooped farthingales, of heavy brocade, their long flat bodices, their stiff unbendable sleeves, and in the case of younger ladies, their hair, lank and uncurled, falling upon their shoulders, except where it was parted at the side and gathered with a bow of ribbon over one temple, formed an entire contrast to the French feminine fashions of the time; and until Marie Louise donned the Spanish garb, and did her hair in Spanish style, the Duchess of Terranova looked with grave disapproval at her mistress.