And this the preacher of the reformed faith found to be true, for Spain had no longer to fear the active persecution of those who resisted the introduction of the Bible into their land.

As Amadeus gazed at the features of the General, set in death, he sighed deeply in sorrow at his loss, and when he arrived at the royal palace, the magnificent setting of so many scenes of struggle for supremacy in the country, he sat down wearily, and said:

“I feel sure that my loyalty will not be able to save Spain from the fury of contending factions.”

When the new King took up his abode in the fine domain, with Prim dead, he felt as if he were starting for a voyage on a ship of which the rudder was lost, for he knew not whom to trust or to whom to turn for counsel.

But Amadeus was not a man to let himself be enervated by fears and doubts for the future, although the first few weeks of his residence in the palace were additionally anxious from the fact of his wife being ill at Alassio. For the new young Queen of Spain had not been able to accompany her husband to Spain, as she was not sufficiently recovered from her confinement; and when, in her desire to join Amadeus in the new sphere of influence, the journey was made too soon for her health, she was for some time ill at Alassio.

At last the new Queen was able to undertake the ten days’ journey by sea to Alicante, where she was received with great delight by the young King.

The bright spring day which saw the arrival at Alicante of Queen Maria Victoria seemed to augur well for the success of the young couple. A thrill of pride passed through the young wife when she saw her husband come out to meet her in a white-and-gold launch, his face bright with hope, and looking every inch a King. As the bright barque cut through the sunlit waters, with Amadeus accompanied by his Ministers, who had come to welcome her in state, she stepped to the prow with pretty words of greeting on her lips, and when she was finally taken off from the Italian ship to set foot on Spanish soil, a storm of cheers burst from the throats of the Italian sailors, to be echoed by those from the Spanish crews and sight-seers anxious to welcome the new Sovereign. The bright and intelligent young wife did indeed seem to bring sunshine to Spain, and in the opening of the Senate there was a sincerity in the royal speech which found an echo in the hearts of those who really wished for the welfare of the country.

“When my feet touched Spanish soil,” said Amadeus, in a voice which penetrated to every part of the house, “I determined to merge my ideas, my sentiments, and my interests, in those of the nation who elected me as its head, and whose independent character would never submit to foreign and illegitimate intrigues. My sons will have the good fortune to receive their first impressions of life here; their first language will be Spanish; their education will be in accordance with the customs of the nation; they will learn to think and feel as you think and feel; and we shall unite with imperishable bonds our own fate with your fate.”

But no patriotic sentiments could entirely extinguish the sparks of smouldering resentment that a foreigner should be set over Spain.

The pride of the Castilians was wounded, and no salve of sympathy could prevent the canker caused by such a hurt. Everything the Italian King and Queen did was purposely misinterpreted. He was dubbed “King Macaroni,” and this mocking appellation expressed the resentment of the Court and country.