Visiting noble houses and shrines on the road, and seizing every opportunity for delay, Olivares managed to spin out the journey to Saragossa until the 27th July, when Aragon itself was half overrun by French raiders. Philip's entry into the city was more fitting for a monarch's triumphal return from victory than for the opening of a campaign by a soldier. Soon after his arrival he heard with dismay that Monzon, the ancient legislative capital, had been occupied by the French; whilst everywhere his troops were either retiring before the enemy or being beaten hopelessly. The greater nobles, both Castilian and Aragonese, systematically avoided contact with Olivares; but the presence of Philip in the Aragonese capital offered a good opportunity for a visit of the grandees to him, in order to take counsel as to what could be done in so calamitous a state of affairs. Olivares received them almost rudely, and refused them collective access to the King, whereupon the nobles in high dudgeon shook the dust of Saragossa from their feet, and to a man swore to be avenged on the insolent upstart who, they said, was keeping the King prisoner. In fact, Philip was practically isolated in two rooms whilst at Saragossa, on the plea of the risk to his life if he went out. Olivares rode forth every day in a coach closely surrounded by guards, and no one was allowed to approach him.
For all the months that Philip passed in the Aragonese city he never saw his army or approached the enemy, his main amusement being to watch tennis matches from his window.[[39]] Roussillon was lost in September, never to be recovered, when Perpignan fell; and thenceforward every week brought some story of disgrace and defeat for the Spanish arms; whilst Philip, in inglorious despair, moped in his seclusion, bereft even of his cherished amusements. Olivares was growing desperate. Every courier brought from the stout-hearted Queen Regent in Madrid messages of encouragement and good cheer. She was working bravely, and with wonderful success; collecting funds from hoards hitherto unsuspected, gathering troops and putting heart into them. With her son by her side she reviewed soldiers, and made herself the idol of the populace, who for a time had plucked up some hope and pride in the future of their country. But with the Queen's cheery news to her husband there always went open or covert blame of Olivares. To the minister she sent all the plate, jewels, and treasure she could collect; but he saw from the comparative ease with which she could raise it, whilst he could not, that she held the winning hand and had the people behind her. In despair of beating the French in the field, he stooped to conspire with Cinq Mars against the life of Richelieu himself. The conspiracy was discovered, and made the feeling against him personally more bitter than ever.
Philip could not be kept quite ignorant of the misery and ruin around him, or of his own undignified position, and he grew moody and irritable with the minister who had led him to such a pass. Without even consulting him, he appointed the Marquis of Leganes, a cousin of Olivares and an experienced soldier, to the chief command of what was left of his army; and Olivares, foreseeing his disgrace, craved leave to retire. But this Philip would not allow. He had no other minister to replace him; he was in the midst of a disastrous war, and he had neither the energy nor the knowledge necessary to take matters in his own hand at this juncture.
PRINCE BALTASAR CARLOS.
From a painting by Velazquez in the Prado Museum
The Queen in Madrid had no lack of friends and advisers, all of them enemies of the Guzmans, especially the Counts of Castrillo and Paredes; but the ostentatious legitimation of Olivares' son Enrique had also alienated his own most influential kinsman, the Haros, represented by the Marquis of Carpio, whose son he had disinherited so far as he was able; and these with other former adherents now joined the Queen's friends. All Madrid knew that the Queen was against Olivares; and, safe now from his presence, she made no concealment of it. "My efforts and my boy's innocence must serve the King for eyes," she said; "for if he use those of the Count-Duke much longer my son will be reduced to a poor King of Castile instead of King of Spain."
When la Motte defeated Philip's army under Leganes before Lerida late in the autumn (1642), the last hope seemed gone. Torrecusa, the Neapolitan general who had fought so well in the previous campaigns, went to Saragossa, and, forcing his way to the King, told him that all was lost unless a change was made in the direction of affairs. Torrecusa was mollified with a grandeeship on the spot; but Philip, overweighed and almost at his wits' end, was fain to return to his capital, in the desperate hope of raising another army in the spring, though the citizens of Saragossa prayed him to stay and defend them against the all-victorious French and Catalans.[[40]] Alas! he had neither troops nor money with which to defend them,—no spirit, no counsel, no hope.
Fall of Olivares
On the 1st December 1642, Philip turned his face towards Madrid, after signing decrees, drafted by Olivares, imposing upon Castile new and crushing impositions with which to raise a fresh army. Another "voluntary" levy of money was ordered, a new loan authorised, the seizure of all the church and domestic plate decreed, and a tax of 7 per cent. upon all real property demanded. Well might the subjects stand aghast at this. Where, they asked, was the actual money to come from? The copper was so debased as to be worthless; the only standard was silver at a high premium (38 per cent.), and of this there was not enough available for currency, much less to represent the new demand. When, therefore, Philip entered Madrid by the side of his wife, all spirits were prepared and eager for the change they saw must come. As the royal pair passed in their coach from the Retiro to the palace, blessings loud and long greeted the Queen, such as Philip had never heard before.