“And when my answer was in the affirmative, he said to Arellano: ‘Give him some cigars.’
“This act was followed by a sign for me to leave, and when I kissed His Majesty’s hand he pressed mine with a certain touch of feeling, but, on turning to make my bow at the door, I heard him say to Arellano: ‘What a pity—such young man!’”
Thus, the attempt to give the King some idea of the matter did not succeed, as the Freemason was not allowed to make any verbal explanation, and to have followed the royal suggestion of putting in writing any information about the society would have been to put one’s neck into the noose.
According to Van Halem’s own story, he subsequently escaped from prison through the help of a maid-servant.
It was on the evening of December 26, 1818, that sweet Isabel died, and Ferdinand again found himself a widower.
The news was a great shock to the whole country. Mesoneros Romanos relates that he was at a large municipal evening party, when the Mayor entered in his official garb, and said in a solemn voice: “Señores, this festivity must cease. The Queen our lady” (and he reverently doffed his hat) “has just expired after being delivered of an infant, which has also died.” Dismay filled the assembly, and it was with sad hearts that the company repaired to their homes, for not only had they lost their lovable young Queen, but the death of her infant had also destroyed their hopes of an heir to the throne.[12]
[12] “Memorias de un Setenton, Mesoneros Romanos.”
It is said that Ferdinand showed more grief at this bereavement than ever he had before, and, robbed of the one person whose advice was always good and disinterested, he was soon utterly ruled by his favourites of the camarilla, who wove intrigues to the ruin of the country.
Obedient to the wishes of the State, that there should be a direct heir to the crown, the King soon wedded Maria Josefa Amalia, Princess of Saxony, a young girl of sixteen, just out of the convent where she was educated; and it was soon seen that she had little or no influence on the character and actions of her husband, for, although the verses from her pen show that she was very intelligent, she was never known, during the eight years of her married life, to express any opinion on public affairs, and she occupied herself entirely in making garments for the poor. With the extreme piety of her disposition, which had been fostered in the convent, Maria Amalia never frequented balls or theatres, and her drive in the Pardo was the only pleasure she allowed herself. Studious by nature, the Queen soon mastered the language of her new country, but study was not the accomplishment by which she could gain ascendancy over a man like Ferdinand.
