The very democratic simplicity of the young couple was an offence to a land which revels in old-world ceremony and stately Court etiquette, and the clerical party never let the people forget that it was Victor Emmanuel, the father of their new King, who had ousted the Pope from his position of political supremacy.
Of course Isabella was very indignant when she heard who had been elected as ruler at the Court of Spain, and she expressed her feelings in a torrent of speech.
“The revolution continues,” she said, whilst her eyes blazed with indignation, “and it has just disavowed the rights of my son, who is to-day your legitimate King according to all the Spanish constitutions, by calling to the throne of St. Ferdinand a foreigner, whose merits, however great, cannot entitle him to be your Sovereign, in the face of the rights of a whole dynasty, which is the only one that has in its favour the legitimacy which has been consecrated by the lapse of ages and by constitutions which it has been a signal folly to disavow.”
Of course the Bourbon party echoed these sentiments of its ex-Queen, and Amadeus felt the want of unity which has ever been the main defect of the country.
People who came into contact with Amadeus at the Court of Spain admired the sense of his opinions, although the form of their utterance was not in accordance with that adopted by former rulers at the palace; for the King had many habits of a nervous man. One of these was to take hold of a chair when he was talking, and twist first one of his long legs, and then the other, in and out of the woodwork as he turned it about before him.
As simplicity was a very marked trait in the young royal couple’s tastes, they rejected the idea of establishing themselves in the magnificent apartments used by the ex-Sovereigns, and chose a simple suite of somewhat small rooms commanding a beautiful view of the Casa de Campo, and there the King passed the happiest hours of the day with his wife and children. The young Queen’s fine intelligence rendered her an able confidante for her consort’s State difficulties, and she was generally present at the discussions with the Ministers.
Sunday generally saw an intellectual gathering round the royal dinner-table, but the admiration of the select few who began to appreciate the gifts and aims of the young couple did not, unfortunately, represent the feeling of the country, and it required all the charity and philosophy of King Amadeus and Queen Maria Victoria to ignore the half-concealed sneers of those at Court who mocked at the foreigners and their simple, superior tastes.
Indeed, the Alfonsists never lost an opportunity of testifying their allegiance to the Bourbon dynasty, and, as they studiously avoided the royal palace from whence it had been expelled, the Court society of Madrid presented a strange medley of people who were so little conversant with the customs of such centres that Amadeus began to doubt if Madrid had any really good society.
A certain Señor B., who was subsequently a Minister during the Regency, was invited to a function at the palace. So he went to a first-rate shirt-maker and ordered a shirt for the occasion. The shirt came with the fine embroidered cambric frill set out over blue tissue-paper. So, thinking the blue paper was meant to be worn with the shirt, Señor B. strutted into the royal presence quite proud of his attire—paper and all.
So naturally Don Amadeus was constantly saying: “But there is no society in Madrid.” This remark was repeated in one of the salons of the aristocracy on the eve of the funeral of Blanca Osma, the Marchioness of Povar, mother of the present Duke of Arion, who had been renowned for her beauty and elegance, and, stung at this slight to their circles, somebody said: “Well, to-morrow Amadeus shall see whether there be any good society in Madrid, for we will all parade in front of the windows of the palace after the funeral.” And so they did, and thus the demonstration of sympathy for the family of Osma and Malpica became one of political importance.