When the long and unfortunate reign of Philip the Catholic came to an end on the eve of the seventeenth century, Spain, sadly buffeted by the rough waves of an adverse fortune, was in a most pitiful condition. With the downfall of the great Armada which was so confidently destined to humble the pride of England, national confidence had begun to slip away, the wars at home and in the Netherlands had sadly depleted the treasury, the credit of the country was far from good, and gradually, as a natural reaction after the religious exaltation which had marked the whole of the sixteenth century, a spirit of irreligion and licentiousness became prevalent in all classes of society. As Philip had grown older and more ascetic in his tastes, he had gradually withdrawn from society and had left his court to its own devices. With his death, in 1598, the last restraint was gone, and there was no limit to the excesses of the insensate nation. Having failed in their great and zealous effort to fasten Spanish Catholicism upon the whole of Europe, they had finally accepted a milder philosophy, and had decided to enjoy the present rather than continue to labor for a somewhat doubtful reward in the life which was to come. The young king, Philip III., who began to reign under these circumstances, was wedded in 1599 to the Archduchess Margaret of Austria, and the feasts and celebrations which were organized in honor of this event outrivalled in their magnificence anything of the kind that had taken place in Spain for many years, and there was a free and libertine spirit about all of this merrymaking which did not augur well for the future. The Duke of Lerma, the king's favorite and prime minister, was in full charge of the affair, and he spared no pains in his desire to make a brave show, in spite of the critical financial condition of the country. The young Austrian princess, upon her arrival at Madrid, was fairly dazzled by the reception she was given; and well she may have been, for the money expended for this purpose reaches proportions which almost surpass belief. The Cortes appropriated one million ducats for the occasion, and the nobles spent three million more, three hundred thousand of this sum having been contributed by Lerma from his own private revenues.
The Spanish court now changed its character completely, and the sombre simplicity of the elder Philip's day gave place to a gayety and brilliant ceremonial which were more in accord with the new spirit of the times. Lerma filled the palace at Madrid with brilliant ladies in waiting, for he believed, with the gallant Francis I. of France, that a royal court without women is like a year without spring, a spring without flowers; and a marvellous round of pleasures began, all governed by a stately etiquette. But this gay life was rotten at the core; the immodest and shameless conduct of the women in particular shocked and surprised all visiting foreigners; and as time went on, the social evil increased and became more widespread. Virtue in women was a subject for jest, the cities were perfect sinks of iniquity, to quote Hume, and, in Madrid in particular, immorality was so common among the women that the fact passed into a proverbial saying. Homer has said: "Than woman there is no fouler and viler fiend when her mind is bent on ill;" and even were the superlatives to be lopped from this expression, it might still help to express the fact that the moral degeneracy of Spain in her new career of wantonness was at least shared by the women. At the court, the king, who was in many ways what might be termed a mystic voluptuary, spent his time in alternate fits of dissipation and devotion, wasted his time in gallantry, and neglected his royal duties; and the all-powerful Lerma was the centre of a world of graft, where the highest offices in the land were bartered for gold, and every noble had an itching palm. In this scene of disorder women played no little part, and through intrigue and cajolery they often won the day for their favored lovers. Religion gave place to recklessness, valor disappeared in vanity, and a splendid idleness replaced a splendid industry. One Cortes after another protested, measures were adopted which sought to bring the nation to its senses, new sumptuary laws were enacted, but all to no avail; for the nobility continued to set an example of glittering prodigality, and the common people were not slow to follow.
When another Philip, the fourth of this name, came to the throne in 1621, the situation was almost hopeless. The country was involved in the Thirty Years' War, one failure after another befell the Spanish arms, the taxes had become unbearable, and in many quarters revolt was threatened. The king was not equal to his task, government was an irksome duty for him, and he found his greatest pleasure in two things, hunting and the theatre. Madrid at this time was theatre-mad, playhouses were numerous, and the people thronged them every night. The ladies of the nobility had their special boxes, which were their own private property, furnished in a lavish way, and there every evening they held their little court and dispensed favors to their many admirers. It was the first time in the history of the theatre that women's rôles were being played quite generally by women, and, as was most natural, certain actresses soon sprang into popular favor and vied with each other for the plaudits of the multitude. In theory the stage was frowned at by the Church, the plays were very often coarse and licentious in character, and the moral influence of this source of popular amusement was decidedly bad; but the tinsel queens of that age, as in the present time, were invested with a glamour which had an all-compelling charm, and noble protectors were never wanting. Among the actresses of notoriety in this Spanish carnival of life, the most celebrated were Maria Riquelme, Francisca Beson, Josefa Vaca, and Maria Calderon, familiarly known to the theatre-goers asla bella Calderona. Philip IV., as much infatuated as the meanest of his subjects by the glitter of the footlights, never lost an opportunity when at his capital to spend his evenings in the royal box, where he showed his appreciation by most generous applause; and he was soon on familiar terms with many of the reigning favorites. Among them all, La Calderona seemed to please him most, and she was soon the recipient of so many royal favors that no one could doubt her conquest. Other lovers were discarded, she became Philip's mistress, and she it was who bore to him a son, the celebrated Don Juan, who became in later years a leader in revolt against his father's widowed queen.
In the midst of this troubled life, divided between the pleasures of the chase, the excitements of the theatre, and the many vexations of state, Philip was reserved in his dealings with his fellow men, and few fathomed the depth of his despair in the face of the approaching national ruin. One person seemed to have read the sadness of his heart, however, and that person, with whom he had a most extended correspondence, was, strange to relate, a woman, and a nun of the most devout type, Sister Maria de Agreda! The history of this woman is most interesting, and she seems to have been the one serious and restraining element in all that scene of gay riot. The Agreda family, belonging to the lesser nobility, lived on the frontiers of Aragon, and there, in their city of Agreda, they had founded in 1619 a convent, following a pretended revelation which had directed them to this holy undertaking. The year after the convent was completed, Maria de Agreda, who was then eighteen, and her mother, took the veil at the same time and retired from the vanity of the world. In seven years the young girl was made the mother superior of the institution, and, beginning from that date, she was subject to frequent visions of a most surprising character. God and the Virgin appeared to her repeatedly, commanding her each time to write the life of Mary; but in spite of these supernatural admonitions, she resisted for ten long years, fearing that she might be possessed of demons who came in celestial shape to urge her to a work which she felt to be beyond her powers. Finally, impressed by the persistence of these holy visitants, she referred the matter to a priest who had long been her father confessor, and at his suggestion she decided to write as she had been commanded. For some months she busied herself with this task, and then one day, in an unlucky moment, she ventured to confide her plans to another monk, in the absence of her regular spiritual adviser. This time her plans of literary work were discouraged, and she was advised to burn her manuscripts as worthless paper and to content herself with the usual routine of conventual life. Following this advice, she destroyed the fruits of her labor, and prepared to resume her interrupted duties, when, to her consternation, God and the Virgin again appeared in her cell at night and again commanded her to write as before. Again she resisted, and again the vision came, and finally, encouraged by her old confessor, who had returned upon the scene, she began anew the once abandoned work. This time there was no interruption; the book was finished, and printed first in Madrid, and then at Lisbon, Perpignan, and Antwerp. Naturally, the claim was made that the book was written under divine inspiration, and the curious and oftentimes revolting details with which its pages were filled were soon the talk and scandal of the religious world. Maria, in spite of her mysticism, had proved to be a realist of the most pronounced type, and in many quarters her book was openly denounced. In Paris, the great court preacher Bossuet proclaimed it immoral; and the Sorbonne, which was then a faculty of theologians, condemned the book to be burned. Although the facts are not clearly known, it must have been during this time of publicity that the nun was brought to the attention of the world-weary king. He was attracted by her professed visions, he sought for consolation of a spiritual character in the midst of his unhappy career, and there resulted this correspondence between the two, which has since been published. To quote Hume, it was "the nun Maria de Agreda who, alone of all his fellow-creatures, could sound the misery of Philip's soul as we can do who are privileged to read the secret correspondence between them." Pleasures of all sorts were beginning to pall now upon the jaded monarch. Court festivities became a hollow mockery, the glitter of the stage had vanished, only to leave its queens all daubed with paint and powder in the garish light of reality, and the broken-hearted Philip, bereft of wife and heir, was induced to marry for a second time, in the hope that another son might come to inherit his throne.
Philip's second wife was his niece Mariana, another Austrian archduchess, but this marriage was a vain hope so far as his earthly happiness was concerned. The wished-for son was born, and duly christened Charles, but he was ever a weakling; and when the father died in 1665, preceding Maria de Agreda to the tomb by a few months only, the government was left in charge of Mariana as regent, and all Spain was soon in a turmoil as the result of the countless intrigues which were now being begun by foreign powers who hoped to dominate the peninsula. Mariana, who was a most ardent partisan, began to scheme for her Austrian house as soon as she arrived in Spain, and did everything in her power to counteract the French alliance which had been favored by Philip. Upon her husband's death, she promptly installed her German confessor, Nithard, as inquisitor-general, gave him a place in the Council of State, and in all things made him her personal representative. Her whole course of action was so hostile to the real interests of Spain, that murmurs of discontent were soon heard among the people; and Don Juan, the illegitimate son, won power and popularity for himself by espousing the cause of the nation. The weakling boy-king Charles was a degenerate of the worst type, the result of a long series of intermarriages; and so long as Mariana could keep him within her own control, it was difficult to question her authority to do as she pleased. For greater protection to herself and to her own interests, Mariana had installed about her in her palace a strong guard of foreigners, who attended her when she went abroad and held her gates against all unfriendly visitors when she was at home. But the opposition grew, and finally, after some ill-timed measures of Nithard, there was open revolt, and Don Juan appeared at the head of a body of troops to demand in the name of outraged Spain the immediate dismissal of the queen's favorite. Mariana's confusion at this juncture of affairs has been quaintly pictured by Archdeacon Coxe, who wrote an interesting history of the Bourbon kings of Spain in the early part of the last century: "In the agony of indignation and despair, the queen threw herself upon the ground and bewailed her situation. 'Alas, alas!' she cried; 'what does it avail me to be a Queen and Regent, if I am deprived of this good man who is my only consolation? The meanest individual is permitted to chuse (sic) a confessor: yet I am the only persecuted person in the kingdom!'" Tears were unavailing, however, and Nithard had to leave in disgrace, although Mariana was successful in opposing Don Juan's claim to a share in the government. But the queen could not rule alone, and the new favorite, as was quite usual in such cases, owed his position to feminine wiles. Valenzuela, a gentleman of Granada, had been one of Nithard's trusted agents, and courted assiduously Doña Eugenia, one of the ladies in waiting to the queen; and by marrying her he had brought himself to Mariana's notice, and had so completely gained her confidence, that she naturally looked to him for support. Either the queen's virtue was a very fragile thing, or Valenzuela was considered a gallant most irresistible; for in his first two interviews with Her Majesty, his wife, Doña Eugenia, was present, "to avoid scandal." It is probably safe to say that as Valenzuela rose in power this precaution was thrown to the winds, and on more than one occasion "he made an ostentatious display of his high favor, affected the airs of a successful lover, as well as of a prime minister; and it did not escape notice that his usual device in tournaments was an eagle gazing at the sun, with the mottoTengo solo licencia, 'I alone have permission.'"
This pride had its fall, however, as in 1677 the boy-king Charles, at the age of fifteen, which had been fixed as his majority, was made to see that his mother was working against the best interests of his subjects; and he escaped from the honorable captivity in which he had been held at the palace, and gave himself up to his half-brother, Don Juan, who was only too ready to seize this advantage against the hostile queen. Manana was imprisoned in a convent in Toledo, Valenzuela was exiled to the Philippines, and Don Juan, as prime minister, prepared to restore public confidence. In line with his former policy, he made a clean sweep of all the members of the Austrian party, and then began to prepare the way for a French marriage, to strengthen the friendly feeling of the powerful Louis XIV., who had been married to a Spanish wife. Scarcely had the promise for this marriage between Louis's niece Marie Louise and the half-witted Charles been made, when, suddenly, Don Juan sickened and died, and the queen-mother Mariana was again in power. There were dark hints of poison; it was insinuated that Mariana knew more of the affair than she would be willing to reveal; but, whatever the facts, there was no proof, and there was no opportunity for accusations. Meanwhile, the preparations for the royal wedding were continued, in spite of the fact that it was feared that Mariana might try to break the agreement. But this wily woman, confident in her own powers, felt sure that she would prove more than a match for this young French queen who was coming as a sacrifice to enslave Spain to France. Marie Louise had left her home under protest, strange tales of this idiot prince who was to be her husband had come to her ears, and she could only look forward to her marriage with feelings of loathing and disgust. As all her appeals had been to no avail, she discarded prudence from her category of virtues, and entered the Spanish capital a thoughtless, reckless woman, fully determined to follow her own inclinations, without regard to the consequences. Her beauty made an immediate impression upon the feeble mind of her consort; but she spurned his advances, made a jest of his pathetic passion for her, and was soon deep in a life of dissipation. Mariana, as the older woman, might have checked this impulsive nature; but she aided rather than hindered the downfall of the little queen, looked with but feigned disapproval upon the men who sought her facile favors, and, after a swift decade, saw her die, without a murmur of regret. Again there were whispers of poison, but Mariana was still in power, and she lost no time in planning again for Austrian ascendency and an Austrian succession. Once more the puppet king was accepted as a husband, and this time by the Princess Anne of Neuburg, a daughter of the elector-palatine, and sister of the empress, though, in justice to Anne, it should be said that she was an unwilling bride and merely came as Marie Louise had done—a sacrifice to political ambition. Victor Hugo, in his remarkable dramaRuy Blas, gives a striking picture of this epoch in Spanish history, and shows the terrible ennui felt by Anne in the midst of the rigid etiquette of Madrid. In one of the scenes in this play, a letter is brought to the queen from King Charles, who is now spending almost all his time on his country estates, hunting; and after the epistle has been duly opened and read aloud by the first lady in waiting, it is found to contain the following inspiring words: "Madame, the wind is high, and I have killed six wolves"!
The new queen, however, was soon interested by the indefatigable Mariana in the absorbing game of politics which she had been playing for so long a time and in which she was such an adept; and before many months had passed, the two women were working well together for the interests of their dear Austria, for their sympathies were identical and there was nothing to prevent harmonious action between them. Anne brought in her train an energetic woman, Madame Berlips, who was her favorite adviser, and for a time these three feminine minds were the controlling forces in the government. France was not sleeping, however; skilful diplomatic agents were at work under the general supervision of the crafty Louis Quatorze, and the matter of the succession was for a long time in doubt. Without an heir, Charles was forced to nominate his successor; and the wording of his will, the all-important document in the case, was never certain until death came and the papers were given an official reading. Then it was discovered, to the chagrin of the zealous Austrian trio, that they had been outwitted, and that the grandson of Louis, young Philip of Anjou, had won the much-sought prize. With the coming of the new king, the women of the Austrian party and all their followers were banished from the court, and a new era began for Spain. The French policy which had worked such wonders in the seventeenth century was now applied to this foreign country, numerous abuses were corrected, and foremost in the new régime was a woman, the Princess Orsini, who was soon the real Queen of Spain to all intents and purposes. Feminine tact and diplomacy had long been held in high esteem in France; Louis had been for many years under the influence of the grave Madame de Maintenon; and this influence had been so salutary in every way, that the aged monarch could think of no better adviser for his youthful grandson, in his new and responsible position, than some other woman, equally gifted, who might guide him safely through the political shoals which were threatening him at every turn. Madame de Maintenon was called upon for her advice in this crisis, and she it was who suggested the Princess Orsini as the one woman in all Europe who could be trusted to guide the young Philip V. It is interesting to note that there was never question for a moment of placing a man in this post of confidence; its dangers and responsibilities were acknowledged as too heavy for a man to shoulder, and it was merely a question of finding the proper woman for the emergency. One other woman was needed, however, in Spain at this time, and that was a wife for the newly crowned king. She was to provide for the future, while the Princess Orsini was to take care of the present.
A political marriage was planned, as might have been expected, and after some delay the fickle Duke of Savoy, who had long been a doubtful friend to the French, was brought to terms, and his daughter Marie Louise was promised as Philip's bride. The ceremony was performed at Turin, where the king was represented by a proxy, the Marquis of Castel Rodrigo, and the royal party left Genoa in a few days, in gayly adorned galleys, bound for the Spanish coast. Philip hastened to meet his bride, and first saw her at Figueras, to the north of Barcelona. There, on October 3, 1701, their union was ratified, in the presence of the "patriarch of the Indies," who happened to be in Spain at that time. All was not clear weather in these first days of the honeymoon, for, at the command of the French king, all of the Piedmontese attendants of the little queen had been dismissed, as it was feared that she might bring evil counsellors who would make trouble for the new government. The Princess Orsini, who had joined the party when they embarked at Genoa, took charge of Marie Louise on the departure of her friends, and did all in her power to make the separation easy for her, but Marie was so indignant at this unexpected turn of affairs that she was in high dudgeon for several days, and during this time, until she had become thoroughly reconciled to her fate, the impatience of the boy-king was restrained and he was forced to consent to a temporary separation. To quote from Coxe's description: "Marie Louise had scarcely entered her fourteenth year, and appeared still more youthful from the smallness of her stature; but her spirit and understanding partook of the early maturity of her native climate, and to exquisite beauty of person and countenance she united the most captivating manners and graceful deportment." Even after her attendants had been dismissed and the Princess Orsini had been definitely installed as hercamerara-mayor, or head lady in waiting, with almost unlimited powers, Louis Quatorze still thought it advisable to write to his young protégé and give him some advice relative to his treatment of his wife. Among his sententious remarks, the following are of special interest: "The queen is the first of your subjects, in which quality, as well as in that of your wife, she is bound to obey you. You are bound to love her, but you will never love her as you ought if her tears have any power to extort from you indulgences derogatory to your glory. Be firm, then, at first. I well know that the first refusals will grieve you, and are repugnant to your natural mildness; but fear not to give a slight uneasiness, to spare real chagrin in the future. By such conduct alone you will prevent disputes which would become insupportable. Shall your domestic dissensions be the subject of conversation for your people and for all Europe? Render the queen happy, if necessary, in spite of herself. Restrain her at first; she will be obliged to you in the end; and this violence over yourself will furnish the most solid proof of your affection for her.... Believe that my love for you dictates this advice, which, were I in your place, I should receive from a father as the most convincing proof of his regard."
The Princess Orsini, or Des Ursins, as she is generally known, was a most remarkable woman. A member of the old French family of La Tremouille, she had first married Adrian Blaise de Talleyrand, Prince de Chalais; and on her husband's banishment as the result of an unfortunate duel, she went with him in exile to Spain, where she spent several years and had an opportunity to become familiar with the language and customs of the country. Going later to Italy, where her husband died, she was soon married a second time, to Flavio de' Orsini, Duke of Bracciano and Grandee of Spain, and for several years was a most conspicuous figure in the court circles of Rome and Versailles, becoming the intimate friend of Madame de Maintenon. Thus it was that Madame de Maintenon spoke of her in connection with the Spanish position as soon as the matter presented itself. The Princess Orsini was nothing loath to accept this position when it was spoken of, and she wrote to the Duchesse de Noailles as follows in soliciting her influence with the French court: "My intention is only to go to Madrid and remain there as long as the king chooses, and afterward to return to Versailles and give an account of my journey.... I am the widow of a grandee, and acquainted with the Spanish language; I am beloved and esteemed in the country; I have numerous friends, and particularly the Cardinal Pontocarrero; with these advantages, judge whether I shall not cause both rain and sunshine at Madrid, and whether I shall incur the imputation of vanity in offering my services." Saint-Simon, who knew the princess well, has written in hisMemoirsthe following description of her appearance and character, and it is so lucid in its statement and such an admirable specimen of pen portraiture that it is given in its entirety:
"She was above the middle size, a brunette with expressive blue eyes; and her face, though without pretension to beauty, was uncommonly interesting. She had a fine figure, a majestic and dignified air, rather attractive than intimidating, and united with such numberless graces, even in trifles, that I have never seen her equal either in person or mind. Flattering, engaging, and discreet, anxious to please for the sake of pleasing, and irresistible when she wished to persuade or conciliate, she had an agreeable tone of voice and manner, and an inexhaustible fund of conversation, which was rendered highly entertaining by accounts of the different countries she had visited, and anecdotes of the distinguished persons whom she had known and frequented. She had been habituated to the best company, was extremely polite and affable to all, yet peculiarly engaging with those whom she wished to distinguish, and equally skilful in displaying her own graces and qualifications. She was adapted by nature for the meridian of courts, and versed in all the intrigues of cabinets from her long residence in Rome, where she maintained a princely establishment. She was vain of her person and fond of admiration, foibles which never left her, and hence her dress in every season of life was too youthful for her age and sometimes even ridiculous. She possessed a simple and natural eloquence, saying always what she chose, and as she chose, and nothing more. Secret with regard to herself; faithful to the confidence of others; gifted with an exterior, nay, an interior, of gayety, good humor, and evenness of temper, which rendered her perfectly mistress of herself at all times and in all circumstances. Never did any woman possess more art without the appearance of art; never was a more fertile head, or superior knowledge of the human heart, and the means of ruling it. She was, however, proud and haughty; hurrying forward directly to her ends, without regard to the means; but still, if possible, clothing them with a mild and plausible exterior. She was nothing by halves; jealous and imperious in her attachments; a zealous friend, unchangeable by time or absence, and a most implacable and inveterate enemy. Finally, her love of existence was not greater than her love of power; but her ambition was of that towering kind which women seldom feel, and superior even to the ordinary spirit of man."
"She was above the middle size, a brunette with expressive blue eyes; and her face, though without pretension to beauty, was uncommonly interesting. She had a fine figure, a majestic and dignified air, rather attractive than intimidating, and united with such numberless graces, even in trifles, that I have never seen her equal either in person or mind. Flattering, engaging, and discreet, anxious to please for the sake of pleasing, and irresistible when she wished to persuade or conciliate, she had an agreeable tone of voice and manner, and an inexhaustible fund of conversation, which was rendered highly entertaining by accounts of the different countries she had visited, and anecdotes of the distinguished persons whom she had known and frequented. She had been habituated to the best company, was extremely polite and affable to all, yet peculiarly engaging with those whom she wished to distinguish, and equally skilful in displaying her own graces and qualifications. She was adapted by nature for the meridian of courts, and versed in all the intrigues of cabinets from her long residence in Rome, where she maintained a princely establishment. She was vain of her person and fond of admiration, foibles which never left her, and hence her dress in every season of life was too youthful for her age and sometimes even ridiculous. She possessed a simple and natural eloquence, saying always what she chose, and as she chose, and nothing more. Secret with regard to herself; faithful to the confidence of others; gifted with an exterior, nay, an interior, of gayety, good humor, and evenness of temper, which rendered her perfectly mistress of herself at all times and in all circumstances. Never did any woman possess more art without the appearance of art; never was a more fertile head, or superior knowledge of the human heart, and the means of ruling it. She was, however, proud and haughty; hurrying forward directly to her ends, without regard to the means; but still, if possible, clothing them with a mild and plausible exterior. She was nothing by halves; jealous and imperious in her attachments; a zealous friend, unchangeable by time or absence, and a most implacable and inveterate enemy. Finally, her love of existence was not greater than her love of power; but her ambition was of that towering kind which women seldom feel, and superior even to the ordinary spirit of man."
Such was the woman who was to give tone to the new administration and to aid the young king and queen in the difficult tasks which were before them. Philip was not a decided success, except as a soldier; he yielded much to his wilful wife, and the Princess Orsini was soon accepted by them both as a trustworthy guide. The following extract from a letter written by the French ambassador to his court soon after her installation is significant in her praise: "I see the queen will infallibly govern her husband, and therefore we must be careful that she governs him well. For this object the intervention of the princess is absolutely necessary; her progress is considerable; and we have no other means to influence her royal mistress, who begins to show that she will not be treated as a child." During the fourteen warlike years which followed, and which resulted in the complete submission of all the Spanish provinces to the will of Philip V., Marie Louise was devoted to her husband's cause, and developed a strong character as she grew older; but in 1714, just as quiet had come and the country under the new administrative scheme had begun to win back some of its former thrift and prosperity, death came to her suddenly, and Philip was left alone with the resourceful Orsini, who rarely failed in her undertakings. So complete was her influence over him, that Hume says she "ruled Spain unchecked in his name." With this opportunity before her, and a victim to her strong personal ambition, which exulted in this exercise of power, she now grew jealous of her position and feared lest a new marriage might depose her. Accordingly, she arranged matters to her liking, and succeeded in having Philip marry Elizabeth Farnese, a princess of Parma, who had been described to her as a meek and humble little body with no mind or will of her own. With a queen of this stamp safely stowed away in the palace, the Princess Orsini saw no limit to her autocratic sway. This time, however, the clever woman of state had been cruelly deceived; for the mild Elizabeth turned out to be a general in her own right, who promptly dismissed her would-be patron from the court and speedily acquired such domination over Philip that he became the mere creature of her will.
This Elizabeth Farnese, in spite of her quiet life at Parma, soon showed herself to possess a capacity for government which no one could have suspected, for she had studied and was far better acquainted with history and politics than the majority of women, spoke several languages, and had an intelligent appreciation of the fine arts. Hume calls her a virago, and, although this is a harsh word, her first encounter with the Princess Orsini would seem to warrant its use. The princess, by virtue of her office ofcamerara-mayor, had gone ahead of the king, to meet the new queen, and the two women met at the little village of Xadraca, four leagues beyond Guadalaxara. The princess knelt and kissed the hand of her new mistress, and then conducted her to the apartments which had been prepared for her. Coxe describes the scene as follows: "The Princess Orsini began to express the usual compliments and to hint at the impatience of the royal bridegroom. But she was thunderstruck when the queen interrupted her with bitter reproaches and affected to consider her dress and deportment as equally disrespectful. A mild apology served only to rouse new fury; the queen haughtily silenced her remonstrances, and exclaimed to the guard: 'Turn out that mad woman who has dared to insult me.' She even assisted in pushing her out of the apartment. Then she called the officer in waiting, and commanded him to arrest the princess and convey her to the frontier. The officer, hesitating and astonished, represented that the king alone had the power to give such an order. 'Have you not,' she indignantly exclaimed, 'his majesty's order to obey me without reserve?' On his reply in the affirmative, she impatiently rejoined: 'Then obey me.' As he still persisted in requiring a written authority, she called for a pen and ink and wrote the order on her knee."
Whether this incident as related be true or not, it serves well to illustrate the imperious nature which she undoubtedly possessed, and which was seen so many times in the course of the next quarter of a century. Her will had to be obeyed, and nothing could turn her aside from her purpose when once it was fixed. But she was as artful as she was stubborn, and ruled most of the time without seeming to rule, carefully watching all of her husband's states of mind, and leading him gradually, and all unconsciously, to her point of view when it differed from her own. Her interests were largely centred in her attempts to win some of the smaller Italian principalities for her sons, she was continually involved in the European wars of her time, and she again brought Spain into a critical financial condition by her costly and fruitless warfare. Not until the accession of her stepson, Charles III., who came to the throne in 1759, was Spain free from the machinations of this designing woman, and, in all that time of her authority, no one can say that she ruled her country wisely or well. She was short-sighted in her ambition, entirely out of sympathy with the Spanish people, and did little or nothing to deserve their hearty praise. So when at last her power was gone, and the new king came to his own, there was but one feeling among all the people, and that was a feeling of great relief.
For the rest of this eighteenth century in Spain there is no predominating woman's influence such as there had been for so many years before, as Amelia, the wife of Charles III., died a few months after his accession, and for the rest of his life he remained unmarried and with no feminine influence near him. The morals of Spain did not improve in this time, however, even if the king gave an example of continence which no other monarch for many years had shown. Charles was very strict in such matters, and it is on record that he banished the Dukes of Arcos and Osuna because of their open and shameless amours with certain actresses who were popular in Madrid at that time. The women in question were also sternly punished, and the whole influence of Charles was thus openly thrown in favor of the decencies of life, which had so long been neglected. The sum total of his efforts was nevertheless powerless to avail much against the inbred corruption of the people, for their none too stable natures were being strongly influenced at that time by the echo of French liberalism which was now sounding across the Pyrenees, and restraint of any kind was becoming more and more irksome every day. Charles IV., who ascended the throne in 1788, was weak and timid and completely in the power of his wife, Marie Louise of Parma, a wilful woman of little character, who was responsible for much of the humiliation which came to Spain during the days of Napoleon's supremacy. Charles IV., realizing his own lack of ability in affairs of state, had decided to take a prime minister from the ranks of the people, that he might be wholly dependent upon his sovereign's will; and his choice fell upon a certain handsome Manuel Godoy, a member of the bodyguard of the king, with whom the vapid Marie was madly in love, and whom she had recommended for the position. The king, all unsuspecting, followed this advice, and Godoy, who was wholly incompetent, went from one mistake to another, to the utter detriment of Spanish interests. The queen's relations with her husband's chief of state were well known to all save Charles himself, and, on one occasion at least, Napoleon, by threatening to reveal the whole shameful story to the king, bent Godoy to his will and forced him to humiliating concessions. The queen supported him blindly, however, in every measure, and put her evil pleasure above the national welfare.
It must not be assumed that in this period of national wreckage that all was bad, that all the women were corrupt and all the men were without principle, for there was never perhaps such a condition of affairs in any country; but the prevailing and long-continued licentiousness at the court, which was in many respects a counterpart in miniature of the wanton ways of eighteenth-century France, could not fail in the end to react in a most disastrous way upon the moral nature of the people. There were still pious mothers and daughters, but the moral standards of the time were so deplorably low in a country where they had never been of the highest, from a strictly puritan standpoint, that society in general shows little of that high seriousness so essential to effective morality.
Spain, in all the days of her history, has been conspicuous among all other continental countries for the number of women who have wielded the sovereign power, and the reasons for this fact are not far to seek perhaps. In both Germany and Italy there has been little of national life or government in the broadest sense of the word until a very recent date, the custom of the empire has given male rulers to Austria, the illustrious Catherine of Voltaire's day has been the one woman to achieve prominence in Russia, and in France the ancient Salic law did not allow women to ascend the throne; so that, all in all, by this process of exclusion, it is easy to see that in Spain alone the conditions have been favorable for woman's tenure of royal office. A scrutiny of the list of Spanish monarchs reveals the fact that in all the long line there are no names more worthy of honor than those of Berenguela and Isabella the Catholic, and that, irrespective of sex, Isabella stands without any formidable rival as the ablest and most efficient ruler that Spain has ever had. The right of woman's accession to the Spanish throne was seriously threatened, however, early in the eighteenth century with the advent of the French Bourbons. Young Philip V., acting under French influences in this affair, as he did continually in all his various undertakings, had induced the Cortes to introduce the French Salic principle; and for the greater part of the century this law was allowed to stand, although nothing happened to test it severely. By way of comment on this circumstance, it is interesting to note that this young king, Philip V., who had been instrumental in barring women from the succession, was, by tacit confession, unequal to his own task, and found his wisest counsellor in the person of the clever Princess Orsini. Spanish feeling and Spanish custom in regard to this matter were so strong, however, that Charles IV., when he came to the throne in 1789, had prevailed upon the Cortes to abolish the Salic law and to restore the old Castilian succession. While this was done secretly, a decree to this effect had never been issued, and legally the Salic law was still in force when Charles's son, Fernando VII., approached his last days. Fernando had been unlucky with his wives, as the first three proved to be short-lived, and the fourth, Maria Cristina, Princess of Naples, presented him with two daughters and no sons.
It happened that, before the birth of these daughters, Fernando had been induced by his wife to attack the Salic law and to restore the Castilian rule of succession, and in this way the elder princess, who was to become Isabella II., had a clear claim to the throne from the time of her birth. The person most interested in opposing this action was Don Carlos, brother of Fernando, who was the rightful heir in the event of his brother's death under the former procedure. When the fact became known that Don Carlos had been dispossessed in this way by the machinations of Maria Cristina, he and his followers put forth every effort to induce Fernando to undo what he had done; but all to no avail, and in 1833, when the king died, Maria became regent during the minority of the youthful Isabella. For the next seven years Spain was in a turmoil as the result of the continual revolts which were raised by the friends of Don Carlos, and Maria for a time had much trouble in making headway against them.
The political game she was playing gave her strange allies during these days, for she was naturally in favor of an autocratic government, after the manner of the old régime; but as Don Carlos had rallied to his standard the clerical and conservative parties of the country, Maria was forced, as a mere matter of self-protection, to make friendly advances to the growing liberal forces in society, which had been brought into permanent existence by the success of republicanism in France. In spite of this nominal espousal of the liberal cause, Maria was continually trying to avoid popular concessions and to retain unimpaired the despotic power of the monarchy, but she was soon forced to see that, in appearance at least, she must pretend to advance the popular cause and give her subjects more extended privileges. Accordingly, she issued a decree in 1834 establishing a new constitution and creating a legislature composed of two chambers; but there was more pretence than reality in this reform, and the dissatisfaction of the liberals increased as the queen-regent's real purposes became more clearly understood. Fortunate in having at the head of her armies a great general, Espartero, Maria finally succeeded in dispersing and exhausting the Carlist armies; but then differences arose between the queen and Espartero over the rights of the chartered towns, which she was endeavoring to abolish; and the popular sentiment was so in favor of the liberal side of the discussion, that a revolution was threatened and Isabella was forced to seek safety in flight. For three years the general-statesman ruled, until the majority of the Princess Isabella was declared in 1843, and in that same year Espartero was forced into exile, as he had become unpopular on account of his friendship for England. With this change in governmental affairs, Maria Cristina was allowed to return to Madrid, and she and her daughter, the new queen, Isabella II., controlled the destinies of the country. A husband was found for Isabella in the person of her cousin, Francis of Assis, but he was a sickly, impotent prince, with no vigor of mind or body, and the married life of this young couple was anything but happy. The country meanwhile continued in a state of unrest, and there were frequent revolutionary outbreaks. Isabella was no less unreliable than her mother had been, and her capricious manner of changing policy and changing advisers was productive of a state of lawlessness and disorder in all branches of the government which daily became more shameful. This shifting policy in matters of state was equally characteristic of the queen's behavior in other affairs. Dissatisfied with her pitiful husband, she soon abandoned her dignity as a queen and as a woman, in a most brazen way, and her private life was so scandalous as to become the talk of all Europe. But the court was kept in good humor by the lavish entertainments which were given; the proverbial Spanish sloth and indifference allowed all this to run unchecked, for a time at least; and the sound of the guitar and the song of the peasant were still heard throughout the land.
Some idea of the social life in Madrid at this time can be obtained from the following charming description of an afternoon ride in one of the city parks, written in September, 1853, by Madame Calderon de la Barca: "This beautifulpaseo, called Las Delicias de Ysabel Segunda, had been freshly watered. Numbers of pretty girls in their gracefulamazonesgalloped by on horseback, with their attendantcaballeros. Few actual mantillas were to be seen. They were too warm for this season, and are besides confined to morning costume. Their place was supplied either by light Parisian bonnets or by a still prettier head-dress, a veil of black lace or tulle thrown over the head, fastened by gold pins, and generally thrown very far back, the magnificent hair beautifully dressed. Certainly this appeared to me the prettiest head-dress in the world, showing to the greatest advantage the splendid eyes, fine hair, and expressive features of the wearers. I was astonished at the richness of the toilettes, and M—— assured me that luxury in dress is now carried here to an extraordinary height; and to show you that I am not so blinded by admiration for what is Spanish as not to see faults, at least when they are pointed out to me, I will allow that French women have a better idea of the fitness of things, and that there is an absence of simplicity in the dress of the Spanish women which is out of taste. I allude chiefly to those who were on foot. The rich silks and brocades which trail along the Prado, hiding pertinaciously the exquisitely small feet of the wearers, would be confined in Paris to theéléganteswho promenade the Bois de Boulogne or the Champs-Elysées in carriages. Here the wife and the daughter of the poorest shopkeeper disdain chintz and calico; nothing short of silk or velvet is considered decorous except within doors. But, having made this confession, I must add that the general effect is charming, and as for beauty, both of face and figure, especially the latter, surely no city in the world can show such an amount of it."
In spite of the general tone of gayety which was pervading Madrid in these days of the early fifties, many of the members of the older nobility, conservative to the core, were holding somewhat aloof from the general social life of the time. Society had become too promiscuous for their exclusive tastes, and they were unwilling to open their drawing rooms to the cosmopolitan multitude then thronging the capital. Details of this aristocratic life are naturally somewhat difficult to obtain, but this same sprightly Madame Calderon de la Barca, through her connection with the diplomatic corps at Madrid, was able to enter this circle in several instances, and her chatty account of a ball given by the Countess Montijo, one of the leaders in this exclusive set, if not one of its most exclusive members, is not lacking in interest: "A beautiful ball was given the other night at the Countess Montijo's. She certainly possesses the social talent more than any one I ever met with, and, without the least apparent effort, seems to have a kind of omnipresence in her salons, so that each one of her guests receives a due share of attention. The principal drawing room, all white and gold, is a noble room. The toilettes were more than usually elegant, the jewels universal. The finest diamonds were perhaps those of the Countess of Toreno, wife of the celebrated minister. The Countess of Ternan-Nuñez and the Princess Pio (an Italian lady), wore tiaras of emeralds and brilliants of a size and beauty that I have never seen surpassed. The Duchess of Alva was, as usual, dressed in perfect taste, but, alas! I am not able to describe. It was something white and vapory and covered with flowers, with a few diamond pins fastening the flowers in her hair. I observed that whenever a young girl was without a partner, there was the hostess introducing one to her, or if any awkward-looking youth stood neglected in a corner, she took his arm, brought him forward, presented him to some one, and made him dance. Or if some scientific man, invited for his merits,—for her parties are much less carefully winnowed than those of the aristocracy in general,—stood with his spectacles on, looking a little like a fish out of water, there was the countess beside him, making him take her to the buffet, conversing with him as she does well upon every subject, and putting him so much at his ease that in a few minutes he evidently felt quite at home." Such a description as this must inevitably lead to the reflection that charming as the Countess Montijo may have been, she was in no way peculiar or remarkable except in so far as she represented the highest type of a polished, tactful Spanish hostess, for in every civilized modern country there are women of this class who excite general admiration.
The wavering policy of the capricious Isabella was somewhat strengthened in 1856, when the long-suffering people, unable to countenance for a longer time the universal corruption which existed in all branches of the government, rose in such threatening revolt, under the leadership of O'Donnell, that the queen was forced to give heed. The revolt counted among its supporters members of all political parties, who were now banded together from motives which were largely patriotic, and so great was their influence that Isabella was forced to accept their terms or lose her crown. For a few years there was an increased prosperity for Spain, but the improvement could not be of long duration, so long as the government remained under the same inefficient leadership. Finally, the end came in 1868, when there broke forth a general revolution which was but the forcible expression of the real and genuine spirit of discontent which was to be found among all classes of the people. The navy rebelled at Cadiz, and the fleet declared for the revolution, and then, to take away Isabella's last hope of support, certain popular generals, who had been sent into exile, returned, and led the royal troops against the hated sovereign. In the face of this overwhelming array of hostile forces, the queen crossed the Pyrenees as a fugitive, and when she went she left her crown behind her. After five years of upheaval, which descended at times to complete anarchy, with the advantage resting now with the conservatives and now with the liberals, the crown was finally offered to the son of the dethroned queen, who, as Alfonso XII., began his reign under most auspicious circumstances. With his unlooked-for death in 1886, his wife and widow, Maria Cristina, was left as the regent for her unborn son, who has so recently attained his majority. This Maria was a most careful mother, who devoted herself with the utmost fidelity to the education of her son; and her conception of this duty was so high and serious that she practically put a stop to the social life of the court, that she might give herself unreservedly to her important task. With what success, the future alone can tell, but, in the meanwhile, there is but one opinion as to her personal worth and character.
Without venturing a prediction as to the probable future for Spain in the history of the world, the fact remains that in recent years the country has advanced greatly from many points of view, so far as its domestic affairs are concerned. There has been a remarkable commercial activity, railroads have opened up much of the country which had been cut off from the main currents of life from time immemorial, and the widespread use of electricity for lighting and for motive power is perhaps unexcelled in any other European country. The greatest question now confronting Spain is, in the opinion of many, the question of popular education, and here there is continual advancement. As might be expected in a country like Spain, where southern, and in some cases semi-Oriental, ideas must of necessity exist with regard to women, their education has not yet made great progress, although the question is being considered in a most liberal and enlightened spirit. No movement in this day and generation can be successfully brought to an issue unless it can be shown that there is some general demand for the measures proposed, and until very recently in Spain there was general apathy with regard to the education of women. For many years girls have been carefully instructed in two things, religion and domestic science, and for neither of these things was any extended course of study necessary. The parochial schools, with all their narrowness, prepared the maiden for her first communion, and her mother gave her such training in the arts of the housewife as she might need when she married and had a home of her own to care for. These two things accomplished, the average middle-class Spaniard, until a very recent day, was utterly unable to see that there was anything more necessary, or that the system was defective in any way. But the modern spirit has entered the country, and an organized effort is now being made to show the advantages of a higher education and to furnish the opportunity for obtaining it. In this work of educational reform among Spanish women, an American, Mrs. Gulick, the wife of an American missionary at San Sebastian, has played a leading part. Organizing a school which was maintained under her supervision, she has been quite successful in what she has accomplished, and believes that she has "proved the intellectual ability of Spanish girls." Her pupils have been received in the National Institute, where they have given a good account of themselves; and a few of them have even been admitted to the examinations of the University of Madrid, where they have maintained a high rank. Mrs. Gulick is not the only leading exponent of higher education for Spanish women, however, as the whole movement is now practically under the moral leadership of a most competent and earnest woman, Emilia Pardo Bazan, who understands the wants of her fellow countrywomen and is striving in every legitimate way to give them the sort of instruction they need. Free schools exist in all the cities and towns for both boys and girls, and recent attempts have been made to enact a compulsory education law. Numerous normal schools have been established in the various cities, which are open to both men and women, and the number of women teachers is rapidly increasing. Secular education is far more advanced and far more in keeping with the spirit of the times than is the instruction which is to be found in the schools conducted by the teaching orders. The girls in the convents are taught to adore the Virgin in a very abstract and indefinite way, and are given very little practical advice as to the essential traits of true womanhood. A remarkable article, written recently in one of the Madrid papers by one who signed himself "A Priest of the Spanish Catholic Church," says, apropos of this very question: "Instead of the Virgin being held up to admiration as the Mother of Our Lord and as an example of all feminine perfection, the ideal woman and mother, the people are called upon to worship the idea of the Immaculate Conception, an abstract dogma of recent invention...." This Madonna worship is one of the characteristic things in the religious life of Spain, and everywhereLa Virgen, who is rarely if ever calledSanta Maria, is an object of great love and reverence. There are many of theseVirgenesscattered throughout the country, and each is reverenced. Many of them are supposed to work miracles or answer prayers, and their chapels are filled with the votive offerings of those who have been helped in time of trouble. Not the least pathetic among these offerings are the long locks of hair tied with ribbons of many colors, which have been contributed by some mother because her child has been restored from sickness to health. Women are more devout than the men in their observance of religious duties, although the whole population is religious to an unusual degree so far as the outward forms are concerned, but the real religion which aims at character building is little known as yet.
With regard to the general position of women in Spain, and their influence upon public life, which as yet is not of any considerable moment, Madame L. Higgin, in her recent volume upon Spanish life, writes as follows: "As a rule, they take no leading part in politics, devoting themselves chiefly to charitable works. There is a general movement for higher education and greater liberty of thought and action among women, and there are a certain limited number who frankly range themselves on the side of so-called emancipation, who attend socialistic and other meetings, and who aspire to be the comrades of men rather than their objects of worship or their play-things. But this movement is scarcely more than in its infancy. It must be remembered that even within the present generation the bedrooms allotted to girls were always approached through those of their parents, that no girl or unmarried woman could go unattended, and that to be left alone in a room with a man was to lose her reputation. Already these things seem dreams of the past; nor could one well believe, what is, however, a fact, that there were fathers of the upper classes in the first half of the last century who preferred that their daughters should not learn to read or write, and especially the latter, as it only enabled them to read letters clandestinely received from lovers and to reply to them. The natural consequence of this was the custom, which so largely prevailed, of young men, absolutely unknown to the parents, establishing correspondence or meetings with the objects of their adoration by means of a complacentdoncellawith an open palm, or the pastime known aspelando el pavo(literally, "plucking the turkey"), which consisted of serenades of love songs, amorous dialogues, or the passage of notes through thereja—the iron gratings which protect the lower windows of Spanish houses from the prowling human wolf—or from the balconies. Many a time have I seen these interesting little missives let down past my balcony to the waiting gallant below, and his drawn up. Only once I saw a neighbor, in the balcony below, intercept the post and, I believe, substitute some other letter."
This seclusion of the young girls is in itself a sufficient comment upon the sentiments of honor and duty which are current among the male portion of the population, and it is plain that this condition of affairs can find little betterment until the nation finds new social ideals. Such conditions as these are mediæval, or Oriental at best, and it is to be hoped that the newer education which is now influencing Spain may help to bring about a better and saner view of the social intercourse of men and women. As a direct result of the general attitude, the men upon the streets of a Spanish city will often surprise a foreigner by their cool insolence in the presence of the women they may happen to meet. Her appearance is made the subject for much audible comment, and such exclamations asAy! que buenos ojos! Que bonita eres![Oh! what fine eyes! How pretty you are!] are only too common. The woman thus characterized will modify her conduct according to the necessities of the situation; and if her casual admirer happens to be young and good-looking and she herself is not averse to flattery, she will reward him with a quick smile. In any case, the whole matter is treated as an ordinary occurrence, as it is, and no insult is felt where none is intended. Such remarks are but an expression, which is oftentimes naïve, of the admiration which is felt at the sight of unusual feminine charms. The incident simply goes to show that everywhere in Spain there is tacit recognition of the general inferiority of women. In the laboring and peasant classes, where the women work with the men, such lapses from the conventional standard of good manners would not cause so much comment; but under these circumstances the dangers and the annoyances are not so great, as these women of the people, with their practical experience in life, ignorant as they may be, are often more competent to take care of themselves than are their more carefully educated sisters in polite society who have been so carefully fenced from harm.
Many of the objectionable features of Spanish life which spring from these long-standing notions in regard to women are bound to disappear as both men and women become more educated, and in several particulars already encouraging progress has been made. Marriage laws and customs may always be considered as telling bits of evidence in the discussion of any question of this nature, and in Spain, as the result of modern innovations, the rights of the woman in contracting the marriage relation are superior to those enjoyed elsewhere on the continent or even in England. In the old days, themariage de convenancewas a matter of course in educated circles, and the parents and relatives of a girl were given an almost absolute power in arranging for her future welfare. Now, as the result of an enlightened public sentiment, which is somewhat unexpected in that it is in advance of many other social customs, there is a law which gives a girl the right to marry the man of her choice, even against her parents' wishes. No father can compel his daughter to marry against her will; and if there is any attempt to force her in the matter, she is entitled to claim the protection of a magistrate, who is empowered by law to protect her from such oppression. If the parents are insistent, the magistrate may take the girl from her father's house and act as her guardian until the time of her majority, when she is free to marry according to her own fancy. Nor is any such rebellious action to be construed as prejudicial to the daughter's right to inherit that portion of her father's estate to which she would otherwise have a legal claim. Madame Higgin relates the following cases which came within the range of her personal experience: "In one case, the first intimation a father received of his daughter's engagement was the notice from a neighboring magistrate that she was about to be married; and in another, a daughter left her mother's house and was married from that of the magistrate, to a man without any income and considerably below her in rank, in all these cases the contracting parties were of the highest rank."
With regard to the wedding service, customs have changed greatly during the course of the last century. It was natural that Spain, in common with all other Catholic countries, should have given the Church entire control of the marriage sacrament for many years, and it was not until the republicanism of the nineteenth century forced a change that the civil marriage was instituted as it had been in France. While not compulsory, the religious service is almost always performed, in addition to the other, except among the poor, who are deterred by the cost of this double wedding; and sometimes the religious service is held at the church and sometimes at the home of the bride. It was generally the custom in the church weddings for all the ladies in the wedding party, including the bride, to dress in black; but there was finally so much opposition to this sombre hue at such a joyous occasion, that the fashionable world within recent times has made the house wedding a possibility, and at such a function there was no limit to the brilliant display possible. The English and American custom of taking a wedding journey immediately after the ceremony is not common in Spain, and the Spaniards, in their conversation and sometimes in their books, are not slow to express their opinions with regard to the matter, insisting that it is much preferable to remain at home among friends than to "expose themselves to the jeers of postilions and stable boys," to quote a line from Fernan Caballero'sClemencia. In spite of this firmly rooted opinion, however, that the national customs are best, and in this particular it seems indeed as if they were more reasonable, the wedding journey is slowly being adopted in what they call "elhigh life," and it may some day become one of the fixed institutions of the land, as it is with us. All this is but another proof of the fact that fashions are now cosmopolitan things, and that among the educated and wealthy classes in all countries there are often many more points of resemblance than are to be found between any given group of these cosmopolites and some of their own fellow countrymen taken from a lower class in society.
Some time after the Prince of Naples, who is now the King of Italy, had attracted the favorable comment of all thinking people for his determination not to wed until he married for love, a similar occurrence in Spain revealed the fact that Maria Cristina, the queen-regent, was determined to accept the modern and sensible notion of marriage for one of her own children, and thus incidentally to give to her people in general the benefit of a powerful precedent in such matters. Mention has already been made of the fact that, according to certain laws, a Spanish girl may now refuse to marry at her parents' dictation; but, in spite of the fact that such laws exist, it cannot be said that they are often called into play, for the daughter is still in such a state of childish dependence upon her father and mother, that any such step as described, which amounts to nothing more or less than a revolt against parental authority, would fill her with dismay and would prove more than she would dare to attempt. The laws upon the statute books indicate that there is a public appreciation of the fact that marriage should not be a matter of coercion, but among the people in general the old idea is still more powerful, and Spanish daughters are married daily to the husbands chosen by their match-making mothers or aunts. In the face of this popular custom, and in spite of the fact that royal marriages, on account of their somewhat political character, have generally been made without regard to sentiment, the queen-regent decided that her oldest daughter, the Princess of Asturias, should marry the man she loved. There were various worldly, or rather political, reasons against the proposed alliance; but Maria brushed them all aside and allowed the whole affair to progress in a natural way, as there seemed to be nothing in the proposed alliance which gave her cause for alarm. Here are the facts in the case. Among the playfellows of the little King Alfonso XIII. there were two distant cousins, the sons of the Count of Caserta, and between the elder, Don Carlos, and the young princess a warm attachment soon sprang up which led to a betrothal, with the queen's consent. At once there was a protest which would have intimidated a person of weaker character. It was pointed out that Don Carlos the youth was the son of a man who had been chief of staff to the Pretender Don Carlos, who had been responsible for so much of the disorder in Spain within the last quarter of a century; and although Caserta and his sons had taken the oath of allegiance to Alfonso XIII., it was feared that in some way this marriage might give the Pretender a new claim upon the government, and that in future years it might lead to renewed domestic strife. Furthermore, it was alleged that the Jesuits, who are known conservatives and legitimists everywhere, and who had been accused of sympathizing with the Pretender's claims, were behind this new alliance, and, as the work of their hands, it was popularly considered as a matter of very doubtful expediency. But the queen persisted in her course, entirely without political motives, so far as anyone has been able to discover, and preparations for the wedding were begun in earnest.
Then it was that the affair began to assume a more national and more serious character. The liberal party, which was in power and which naturally looked with suspicion upon anything tainted with conservatism, decided to oppose the marriage, and the prime minister, who was no other than the great Sagasta, allowed the queen to understand plainly that the whole affair must be dropped. Maria Cristina informed her prime minister thatherwill was to be law in the matter, and that she was unwilling to allow any sort of governmental interference. The marriage now precipitated a national crisis, Sagasta and all the members of his cabinet resigned their portfolios of office, and the queen was left to form a new ministry. She appointed the new members from the ranks of the conservative party, and, now without cabinet opposition, the marriage was celebrated. Then the storm arose again: there were riots and disturbances in most of the large cities; the Jesuits, who were made responsible for this turn of affairs, were openly attacked, even in Madrid. It was even claimed that the young king's confessor belonged to the hated order, and everywhere there were fears expressed that the government might soon be delivered up to the Carlists. This impression was only increased when the conservative ministry suspended the constitutional guarantees and assumed to rule with unlimited authority. This move was simply taken, it appears, as a matter of extreme necessity under the circumstances, as the queen and her advisers were determined to keep the upper hand and make no concession under such riotous pressure. Finally, as the disorder was unabated, and it became evident that the cabinet could never gain public confidence, Sagasta, by dint of much persuading, was again induced to become prime minister, and with his return peace was restored and the revolution which was surely threatening was averted.
So ended this memorable contest wherein the queen seemed almost willing to sacrifice her son's crown that she might humor her daughter's whim, and a satisfactory explanation of the whole affair which would be convincing to all the parties concerned is doubtless difficult to make. In the absence of any political motives which can be proved or rightfully suspected, it would seem that Maria Cristina, even though a queen, had been making a most royal battle for the idea that marriage should be a matter of inclination and not a matter of compulsion; and her heroic measures to carry out her ideas cannot fail to produce a great impression upon liberal Spain, as soon as the scare about the Jesuits and the Carlists has had time to subside.
The national amusements of Spain, as they affect the whole people, may be reduced to two, bull-fighting and dancing. While women never take part in the contests of the arena, they are none the less among the most interested of the spectators, and the Plaza de Toros on a Sunday is the place to see their wonderfully brilliant costumes. With regard to Spanish dancing, as a popular amusement it is almost universal, and rarely are two or three gathered together but that the sound of the tambourine, guitar, and castanets is heard and the dance is in full swing. Much has been written about some of these national dances, and often the idea is left in the mind of the reader that they are all very shocking and indecent, but this is hardly the fact. Certain dances are to be seen in Spain to-day, among the gypsies, which have come down practically unchanged from the Roman days, when Martial and Horace were enchanted by the graceful motions of the dancing girls of their time; and these are undoubtedly suggestive in a high degree, and are not less objectionable than the more widely known Oriental dances which have recently made their advent into the United States; but these dances are in no way national or common. They are rarely seen, except in the gypsy quarter of Seville, and there they are generally arranged for money-making purposes. In short, they are no more typical of Spanish dances than the questionable evolutions of the old Quadrille at the Moulin Rouge were representative of the dances of the French people, and it is time that the libel should be stopped. The country people and the working classes dance with the enjoyment of children, and generally they sing at the same time some love song which is unending, and sometimes improvised as the dance proceeds.
In athletic matters it cannot be said that Spanish women are very active, and in this they are somewhat behind their brothers, who have numerous games which test their skill and endurance. Though the bicycle is well known now in Spain, the Spanish women have not adopted it with the zest which was shown by the women of France, and it is doubtful if it will ever be popular among them. Horseback riding is a fashionable amusement among the wealthy city women, but their attainments in this branch of sport seem insignificant when compared to the riding of English and American women. The Spanish riding horse is a pacer rather than a trotter, and this cradle-like motion is certainly better suited to the Spanish women. Few, if any, of them aspire to follow the hounds, a ditch or a gate would present difficulties which would be truly insurmountable, and they never acquire the ease and grace in this exercise which are the mark of an expert horsewoman.
The dark beauty of the Spanish women has long been a favorite theme, and there is little to say on that subject which has not been said a thousand times before, but no account of them would be complete without some word in recognition of their many personal charms. In the cities, the women, so far as their dress is concerned, have lost their individuality, as the women of other nations have done, in their efforts to follow the Parisian styles; but there is still a certain charming simplicity of manner which characterizes the whole bearing of a Spanish lady, and is quite free from that affectation and studied deportment which are too often considered as the acme of good breeding. This almost absolute lack of self-consciousness often leads to acts so naïve that foreigners are often led to question their sense of propriety. But with this naïveté and simplicity is joined a great love for dress and display. Madame Higgin says on this subject: "Spanish women are great dressers, and the costumes seen at the race meetings at the Hippodrome and in the Parque are elaborately French, and sometimes startling. The upper middle class go to Santander, Biarritz, or one of the other fashionable watering places, and it is said of the ladies that they only stop as many days as they can sport new costumes. If they go for a fortnight, they must have fifteen absolutely new dresses, as they would never think of putting one on a second time. They take with them immense trunks, such as we generally associate with American travellers; these are calledmundos(worlds)—a name which one feels certain was given by the suffering man who is expected to look after them. In the provinces, however, among the women of the peasant class, Parisian bonnets are neither worn nor appreciated; the good and time-honored customs in regard to peasant dress have been retained, and there rather than in the cities is to be seen the pure type as it has existed for centuries, unaffected and unalloyed by contact with the manners and customs of other nations."
It is difficult to say what the condition of Spanish women will be as the years go by, but it is at least certain that they will be better educated than they are to-day, and better able to understand the real meaning of life. Now they are often veritable children, who know nothing of affairs at home or of the world abroad, somewhat proud of their manifest charms and ever ready for a conquest; but with a better mental training and some enlarged conception of the real and essential duties in modern life, the unimportant things will be gradually relegated to their proper position, and the whole nation will gain new strength from an ennobled womanhood.