But a secret power was at work in the provinces, where the Bishop of Leon sought to work the people up in favour of the Carlists, whilst pretending devotion to the King. “What name can be so sweet to me as the monarch’s?” he said—“a monarch to whom I owe all, and from whom I have received confidences in matters of grave importance which I cannot reveal, and therefore I know how much he desires the order and tranquillity of his people.”

When the time drew near for the administration of the oath to Isabel as heir to the throne, Ferdinand sent a letter to Don Carlos to ask if it was his intention to attend the ceremony or not. To this question the Infante replied that his conscience and his honour would not permit him to be present at the function, as he could not resign his legitimate rights to the throne in the event of his brother dying without a male heir. God had given him these rights at his birth, and he hoped his brother would explain the reason of his absence to the other Sovereigns at the ceremony.

To this communication Ferdinand replied:

“My very dear Brother of my Life, the Charles of my Heart,—I have received your letter of the 29th ult., and I am glad to see that you and your wife and your children are well. We are the same, thank God. I have always known how much you have loved me, and I believe you know the affection which I have for you. But I am father and King, and I have to consider my rights and those of my children, as well as those of my crown. I do not wish to thwart the dictates of your conscience, nor can I hope to dissuade you from your pretended rights; as, being founded on a determination of men, God alone can change them. But my love as a brother impels me to avoid the disagreeables which would attend you in a country where your supposed rights are not recognized, and the duties of a King oblige me to remove the presence of an Infante whose pretensions might serve as a pretext to malcontents. So, as you cannot, for high political reasons, and by the laws of the kingdom, and for the sake of the tranquillity of the country, return to Spain, I give you permission to travel henceforward with your family in the Pontifical States, acquainting me with your destination and the place of your residence.

“One of my men-of-war will arrive shortly at Lisbon to take you. Spain is independent of all action and foreign influence in what concerns internal arrangements, and I should be acting against the free and complete sovereignty of my throne, and against the principle of non-intervention adopted by the Cabinets of Europe, were I to make the communication you ask me to make in your letter.

“Good-bye, my dear Charles; believe me that you have been loved, you are loved, and you will be always loved, by your most affectionate and unchangeable brother,

“Ferdinand.”

It was thus that Don Carlos made himself an exile, and the two brothers, who had always been together in the many vicissitudes of their lives, were now parted for ever.

To the King in his declining days it was doubtless a grief to be so separated from one with whom he had always shared his thoughts, and on whom he had so much depended. The companionship of Don Carlos during his years of enforced residence at Valençay had saved him being forlorn. However, the bright and cheerful society of Cristina during these days, when the letters of Don Carlos showed how irreparable was the breach between the brothers, was a great solace to the King.

The Queen was always energetic, bright, and busy. The painting of “Cupid and Psyche” by her own hand, given to the Academy of San Fernando, showed her talent for art; and her interest in literature was seen in her asking Ferdinand to have a bust of Cervantes placed on the front of the house of the great author. Moreover, the School of Music owed its foundation to the same royal patroness.