243. Even thus early she began to introduce Austrian etiquette in her receptions; such, for instance, as causing the ladies presented to her to pass before her, in by one door and out by an opposite door (Avisos de Barrionuevo).
244. Avisos de Barrionuevo, vol. ii. p. 303 (February 1656).
245. Ibid. vol. i.
246. Barrionuevo, vol. ii.
247. The comedy of San Gaetano had been represented at the special desire of the Queen shortly before, not without some difficulty from the Inquisition, and the crush to see it was so great that several people were killed.
248. Barrionuevo, vol. ii. 308.
249. Cartas de la Venerable Sor Maria de Agreda.
250. Barrionuevo, vol. iii. 63.
251. One day (8th November 1657) she suddenly asked for some Buñuelos (hot fritters), and men were sent out hurrying to the Plaza where they were sold. A great cauldron of 8 lbs. of them were brought smoking hot covered with honey, and Mariana ate greedily of them, to her great contentment.
252. Barrionuevo.
253. Cartas de la Venerable Sor Maria de Agreda. The King’s prayer came true, for the child died at the age of four.
254. The extravagance of these rejoicings produced a remonstrance from the nun to the King. ‘It is good and politic for your Majesty to receive the congratulations of your subjects ... but I do beseech you earnestly not to allow excessive sums to be spent on these festivities when there is a lack of money needful even for the defence of your crown. Let there be in them no offence to God.... It is good to rejoice for the birth of the prince, but let us do it with a clear conscience.’—Cartas.
255. Barrionuevo. A curious circumstance is related by the same journalist as having taken place at the christening. The lady-in-waiting, as usual, handed the child to the little Infanta Margaret, aged six, who was the godmother; and the only clothing the babe wore was an extremely short tunic, the lower limbs being entirely bare. The little Infanta, shocked at what she considered disrespectful neglect, asked angrily why the prince was not properly dressed; and had to be told that it was done purposely in order that all might see that he was really a male.
256. Barrionuevo relates (vol. iv. p. 166), that a saintly Franciscan friar, upon being appealed to by Philip to pray for the health of his child, replied that he would do so, but a better prayer still would be for the King to give up his constant comedies and rejoicings and pray to God himself. This was in June 1658; and the nun was for ever giving to Philip the same advice.
257. ‘Recueil des Instructions données aux ambassadeurs de France en Espagne,’ vol. i. (Morel Fatio.)
258. ‘Journal du Voyage d’Espagne.’ Paris, 1669.
259. Luis de Haro alone took a household of 200 persons, whilst the King’s medical staff alone consisted of ten doctors and four barbers.
260. ‘Viage del Rey N. S. a la Frontera de Francia.’ Castillo. Madrid, 1667.
261. The golilla, so characteristic of Philip’s reign, was a stiff cardboard projecting collar, the under surface of which was covered with cloth to match the doublet, and the upper surface lined with light silk.
262. Palamino. Life of Velazquez. All the sumptuary decrees were suspended. From this date the Spanish fashion in dress changed.
263. Cartas de Sor Maria.
264. Original Letters of Sir R. Fanshawe. January 1664.
265. An interesting account of this ceremony is given by Lady Fanshawe in her Memoirs.
266. This was Mariana’s daughter, the Infanta Margaret, so well recollected by Velazquez’s portraits of her. She was at this time thirteen years old, and had just been betrothed to the Emperor Leopold, her cousin. She was married two years later, and died in 1673, at the age of twenty-two.
267. Memoirs of Lady Fanshawe.
268. It is related that when Philip was asked if the bodies of the saints should be brought into his room he said, ‘No, they can intercede in my favour just as well in the chapel as here.’
269. As soon as Philip breathed his last the Marquis of Malpica, who was on duty as principal gentleman-in-waiting and captain of the guard, went to the outer guardroom, and said to the assembled officers: ‘Companions, there is no more for us to do here. Go up and guard our King, Charles II.’ Philip had died in one of the lower ground-floor rooms of the palace. The above account is condensed from a contemporary unpublished MS. journal of a courtier in the ‘Biblioteca National,’ c. xxiv. 4. Lady Fanshawe also gives a very precise account of the lying-in-state, varying in some few details from the MS. narrative above referred to.
270. My diarist gives another instance of the heartless conduct of the nobles after the King’s death. When the body was to be transferred to the Escorial each of the chamberlains and officials insisted that it was not his duty to make the formal surrender, or to help to carry the corpse. The squabble was only ended by the Duke of Medina ordering his cousin Montealegre, to do it.
271. Fanshawe died in Spain soon after his recall, Lord Sandwich replacing him to conclude the treaty. See ‘Letters of Earl of Sandwich’ and ‘Fanshawe’s Letters.’ London.
272. An extremely detailed account of the events that accompanied the feud between Mariana and Don Juan will be found in a rare book called ‘Relation of the Differences that happened in the Court of Spain.’ London, 1678.
273. Montero de los Rios, ‘Historia de Madrid.’
274. ‘Diario de los Sucesos de la Corte.’ MS. in the Royal Academy of History, Madrid.
275. A full description of the condition of Spain at the period, drawn from many contemporary sources, is given in ‘Spain, Its Greatness and Decay,’ by Martin Hume (Cambridge University Press).
276. The nobles and leaders were all excommunicated, and not even the King’s intercession could mollify the Pope until full reparation was made at tremendous cost, and penance done in most humiliating fashion.
277. The contemptible instability of the King is seen in a conversation he had with the prior of the Escorial the day after Valenzuela’s capture. The prior had been formerly urged most earnestly by Charles to shelter and defend the favourite, and a written warrant to that effect was given. As no written order for his capture was exhibited the Prior presented himself before the King to explain what had been done. Before he could speak Charles giggled and said, ‘So they caught him!’ ‘Yes, sire, they caught him,’ replied the prior. ‘And his wife too?’ asked the King. ‘His wife is now in Madrid, sire, and I come now to crave mercy and protection for both of them.’ ‘For his wife but not for him,’ said Charles. ‘But surely your Majesty will not abandon your unhappy minister in this sad strait.’ ‘You may take it from me,’ replied Charles, ‘that a holy woman has had a revelation from God that Valenzuela was to be captured at the Escorial.’ ‘A revelation of the devil more likely,’ blurted out the disgusted prior. ‘And pray do not think, sire, that I am interceding for Valenzuela for interests of my own: I never got anything from him in the world but this benzoin lozenge.’ With this Charles jumped back in a fright. ‘Put it away! put it away!’ he cried. ‘Perhaps it is witchcraft or poison.’
(The narrative is from an MS. relation written by one of the monks at the time, and now in the Escorial Library. Portions of it have been quoted by Don Modesto Lafuente, ‘Historia de Espana,’ vol. xii.)
278. ‘Memoires touchans le mariage de Charles II. avec Marie Louise,’ from which many of details related in the text concerning the marriage in France and the journey to the frontier are taken.
279. On the return of the Duke of Pastrana to Spain after the marriage at Fontainebleau, Marie Louise sent by him her first letter to her husband. I have had the good fortune to come across this hitherto unpublished letter in the Biblioteca Nacional, Madrid. It is badly written, in a great smeared school hand, evidently copied from a draft. I transcribe it here in full: ‘Monseigneur. Je ne puis laisser partir le duc de Pastrana sans tesmoigner à votre Majesté l’impatience que j’ai d’avoir l’honneur de la voir. Je suplie en mesme temps votre Majesté d’estre bien persuadée du respect que j’ai pour elle et de l’attachement inviolable avec lequel je serai toute ma vie, Monseigneur, de votre Majesté la tres humble et tres observante, Marie Louise.’
280. They are described with the minuteness of a milliner’s bill in ‘Descripcion de las circunstancias esenciales ... en la funcion de los desposorios del Rey N. S. Don Carlos II.’ Madrid, 1679.
281. Mme. D’Aulnoy’s celebrated ‘Voyage D’Espagne’ is usually quoted largely for local colour in the histories and romances of this period. I am, however, of opinion that very little credit can be given to it, so far as the authoress’s own adventures are concerned. I have grave doubts indeed, whether Mme. D’Aulnoy went to Spain at all. Much of her information is easily traceable to other books, and the rest, apart from the love romances that occupy so many of her pages, may well have been gathered from her cousin, who was married to a Spanish nobleman. The cousin is represented as a friend of Don Juan, and the conversation very likely did take place with her, as Mme. D’Aulnoy represents, though perhaps the latter was not present.
282. ‘Voyage d’Espagne.’ La Haye, 1692.
283. When he consented to the return of some of Mariana’s friends to Court he was told that Don Juan would object. ‘What does that matter?’ he replied. ‘I wish it, and that is enough.’
284. ‘Recueil des Instructions aux Ambassadeurs de France (Espagne).’ Paris, 1894.
285. The leather or damask curtains of the coaches were usually kept closed except by confessedly immodest women; but on such occasions as these, they were sometimes opened to satisfy the crowd, who wished to welcome royal persons.
286. ‘Descripcion de las circunstancias,’ etc. Madrid, 1679.
287. Ibid.
288. ‘Semanario Erudito,’ vol. ii., where a pamphlet of the period is reproduced accusing her of complicity in the murder of her cousin, Don Diego de Aragon.
289. The lively Mme. D’Aulnoy gives a description of a scene previous to the departure of the young Queen’s household from Madrid. The ladies had been privately mustered in the Retiro Gardens for the King to see how they would look mounted when they entered the capital in state with the Queen. ‘The young ladies of the palace were quite pretty, but, good God! what figures the Duchess of Terranova and Doña Maria de Aragon cut. They were both mounted on mules, all bristling and clanking with silver, and with a great saddle cloth of black velvet, like those used by physicians on their horses in Paris. They were both dressed in widows’ weeds, which I have already described to you, both very ugly and very old, with an air of severity and imperiousness, and they wore great hats tied on by strings under their chins. There were twenty gentlemen around them holding them up, for fear they should fall, though they would never have allowed one to touch them thus unless they had been in fear of breaking their necks.—‘Voyage d’Espagne.’ The same authority says that the Duchess of Terranova alone took with her on the journey, ‘six litters of different coloured embroidered velvet, and forty mules caparisoned as richly as ever I have seen.’
290. ‘Letters de Mme. de Villars.’ Paris, 1823.
291. Biblioteca Nacional, Madrid, MSS. C., 1–5, transcribed by the present writer.
292. ‘Mémoires de la Cour d’Espagne,’ par M. de Villars.
293. ‘Mémoires.’ Villars.
294. Lettres de Mme. Villars.
295. Mme. D’Aulnoy thus describes the King’s appearance at this first interview with his bride: ‘I have heard that the Queen was extremely surprised at his appearance. He had a very short, wide jacket (just au corps) of grey barracan; his breeches were of velvet, and his stockings of very loose spun silk. He wore a very beautiful cravat which the Queen had sent him, but it was fastened rather too loosely. His hair was put behind his ears, and he wore a light grey hat.’—‘Voyage d’Espagne.’ La Haye, 1692.
296. A note on a previous page explains the reason why these small villages were chosen for the marriage ceremonies of the Kings of Spain.
297. ‘Mémoires.’ Villars.
298. It will be seen that the sprightly letter-writer indulges here in an untranslatable pun. The carriage was without glass = glace, and she hoped the occupants would be without ice = glace.
299. Writing of this period, Mme. D’Aulnoy, who professes to have been in Madrid at the time, says that the Marchioness de la Fuente told her that: ‘the Queen had been much upset at the roughness of the Mistress of the Robes, who, seeing that her Majesty’s hair did not lie flat on the forehead, spat into her hand and approached for the purpose of sticking the straying lock down with saliva. The Queen resented this warmly, and rubbed hard with her pocket handkerchief upon the spot where this old woman had so dirtily wetted her forehead.... It is really quite pitiable the way this old Mistress of the Robes treats the Queen. I know for a fact that she will not allow her to have a single hair curled, and forbids her to go near a window or speak to a soul.’—‘Voyage d’Espagne.’
300. It was a hooped skirt of peculiar shape, fashionable in Spain, called a guardainfante, of which a specimen may be seen in the portrait of Mariana in the present volume.
301. ‘Lettre de Mme. Villars à Mme. Coulange,’ 15th December 1679.
302. Nouvelle relation de la magnifique et royale entrée ... à Madrid par Marie Louise,’ etc. Paris, 1680.
303. ‘Mémoires de la Cour d’Espagne.’ Villars.
304. Lettres de Mme. Villars à Mme. Coulange.
305. ‘Voyage d’Espagne,’ Mme. D’Aulnoy. For the amount of credit to be given to Mme. D’Aulnoy, see note on a previous page.
306. Gabacho is an opprobrious term applied to Frenchmen in Spain.
307. ‘Mémoires de la Cour d’Espagne.’ Villars.
308. Mme. D’Aulnoy in her own Mémoires tells a curious though doubtful story of these perroquets of which Marie Louise was so fond. They had been brought from Paris, and the few sentences they had been taught were in French, so that the Duchess of Terranova thought herself justified in having them killed. When the Queen asked for them and learnt their fate she said nothing: but when next the Mistress of the Robes came to kiss her hand Marie Louise gave her two good sound slaps on the face instead. When the indignant Duchess with all her followers went in a rage to demand redress of the King, Marie Louise excused herself by saying that she gave the slaps overcome by the irresistible influence of a pregnant woman. This flattered the King and she was absolved.
309. ‘Mémoires de la Cour d’Espagne.’ Villars.
310. ‘Mémoires de la Cour d’Espagne.’ Villars. Even so, she was not allowed to mount her horses from the ground, but had to be driven in her coach to the place and mount the horse from the step of the carriage. One of her horses being very high spirited resented on one occasion this strange performance, and the Queen was thrown to the ground, much to her husband’s alarm. No one, it appears, dared to touch the Queen, even to raise her from the ground, until Charles had sufficiently recovered from the shock to do so himself. (Mme. D’Aulnoy.)
311. ‘Mémoires.’ Villars.
312. ‘Mémoires de la Cour d’Espagne.’ Villars.
313. ‘Recueil des Instructions aux ambassadeurs de France.’ Paris, 1894.
314. In January 1685 the Duke of Montalto in Madrid wrote to Pedro Ronquillo, the ambassador in London. ‘The King attends to nothing but his hunting pastimes, and the Queen in tiring horses, as if she were a skilled horse-breaker. That is a pretty way to become pregnant! In short, my dear sir, it is quite clear that God determines to punish us on every side.’ Writing again, a month later (28th February), the same correspondent, after vilifying the Medina Celi government, says: ‘Neither the things in the palace or anywhere else here improve. It looks, on the contrary, as if the devil himself had taken them in hand. Medina Celi is very placid over it, and cares only for himself; the King has been wolf-hunting for a week thirty miles off, and there would be no harm in that if he would only despatch business. As for the Queen, Medina Celi positively encourages her in her pranks so as to be able to hold on to office by her. He does not care so long as others have to pay.’ Both the correspondents, it is needless to say, belonged to Mariana’s party. ‘Doc. Ined.,’ lxxix.
315. There was a document found in Marie Louise’s cabinet after her death, which purported to be a political guide, written to her at this period by Louis XIV. In this cynical document the Queen is advised how to gain advantage from the King’s weakness and ineptitude, and how to obtain control of him. She is to maintain an attitude between complaint and friendship with the Queen-Mother, but to be very wary with regard to her: she is advised to maintain Oropesa in the ministry, but not to trust him, or to allow him more power than he had. She is to continue to introduce French fashions, manners, etc., in the palace; and advice is given her as to how she should treat all the principal nobles. The manuscript concludes: ‘Withdraw this paper into your most secret keeping. Live for yourself and for your beloved France. In Spain they do not love you, as you know, and they do not fear you either, for faint hearts easily conceive suspicions, and strength is not needed to commit a cruelty.’ The original document is in the Bibliotéca Nacional, Madrid (H. II), and there is a Spanish translation of it in MSS. Add. 15,193, British Museum. The document has usually been assumed to be authentic, but I am rather inclined to regard it as one of the many means employed to blacken the French cause after Marie Louise’s death.
316. To the French ambassador who was in Spain in 1688, the Count de Rebenac, she gave the most intimate detailed reasons for her lack of issue connected with the constitution of the King. Rebenac repeated these confidences in his letters to Louis.
317. Mme. Quantin was a widow. It has been explained that all the ladies in the palace had to be maids or widows.
318. ‘Doc. Ined.,’ lxxix.
319. ‘Doc. Ined.,’ lxxix.
320. Ibid.
321. MSS. of Father Léonard in the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris. Quoted by Morel Fatio in ‘Mémoires de la Cour d’Espagne.’
322. This was Susanne Duperroy, to whom Marie Louise left 3,000 doubloons in her will. Mme. Quantin herself received a legacy of 4,000 from the Queen.
323. ‘Doc. Ined.,’ lxxix.
324. The letter is in the Archives of the Ministère des Affaires Étrangères, Paris, vol. 71. It has been transcribed by M. Morel Fatio.
325. ‘Recueil des Instructions aux Ambassadeurs Français,’ Paris, 1894, and ‘Correspondance de Rebenac, Archives du Ministère des Affaires Etrangères.’
326. The tragic end of the Queen so distressed the French ambassador Rebenac that for a time he lost his reason after attending the funeral ceremony. In his subsequent correspondence with the King of France he made no secret of his belief that she had been murdered. The Duchess of Orleans, the Queen’s stepmother, thus refers to Rebenac’s statements in her correspondence: ‘Rebenac’s feelings have done no wrong to our young Queen of Spain. It is the sharp-nosed Count of Mansfeldt who poisoned her.’ De Torcy, in his ‘Mémoires,’ says: ‘The Count of Mansfeldt and Count Oropesa are both suspected of having been the authors of Marie Louise’s death, and take little care to exonerate themselves. The Marquis de Louville, in his ‘Mémoires,’ also distinctly states that the Queen was poisoned, and several other contemporary French authorities are no less certain.
327. The jewels taken by Count Benavente from Charles was valued at 180,000 crowns, and Mariana’s gift to her daughter-in-law 30,000.
328. Stanhope Correspondence in Lord Mahon’s ‘Spain under Charles II.‘
329. ‘Reinas Catolicas,’ Father Florez.
330. Stanhope Correspondence.
331. ‘Modesto Lafuente Historia de España.’
332. Stanhope Correspondence.
333. Stanhope says: ‘Our new junta, which raised so great expectations, at first, is now grown almost a jest; especially since, at the time they took away all pensions from poor widows and orphans, the Duke of Osuna, one of the richest men in Spain, procured himself a pension of 6000 crowns a year for life, by intercession of the confessor.’
334. ‘Recueil des Instructions,’ etc.
335. Stanhope Correspondence, 3rd May 1696.
336. Stanhope reports, ‘There is now great noise of a miracle done by a piece of a waistcoat she died in, on an old lame nun, who, in great faith, earnestly desired it, and no sooner applied it to her lips, but she was perfectly well and threw away her crutches. This, with some other stories that will not be wanting, may in time grow up to a canonisation.’ Correspondence in ‘Spain under Charles II.‘
337. His recovery from this attack was attributed to the body of St. Diego, which was brought to his bed; and when the King got better, amidst the great rejoicings and bullfights to celebrate the miracle, Charles and his wife spent some days at Alcalá worshipping the grim relic.—Stanhope.
338. Stanhope Correspondence.—Mahon.
339. The Admiral of Castile, who was the Queen’s most ostentatious champion, though she often quarrelled with him, was really betraying her all the time (‘Recueil des Instructions’).
340. The account here given is taken mainly from a contemporary MS., written by an officer of the Inquisition and an adherent of Portocarrero, in the British Museum, Add. 10,241: and from another account printed in Madrid, 1787.
341. ‘Stanhope Correspondence,’ Mahon, 11th June 1698.
342. Every detail of the correspondence will be found in the MSS. already referred to, and, in English, in ‘The Exorcism of Charles the Bewitched,’ in ‘The Year after the Armada,’ etc., by the present writer.
343. MSS. account already referred to. British Museum MSS., Add. 10,241.
344. This struggle, which cannot be described here, is fully narrated in ‘The Exorcism of Charles the Bewitched’ (‘Year After the Armada’), by Martin Hume.
345. Stanhope Correspondence.—Mahon.
346. Stanhope Correspondence.—Mahon.
347. There is no doubt whatever that the French claim through Maria Theresa and Anna of Austria, Queens of France, was the legitimate one, and that the Emperor had no valid right by Spanish law.