Chapter XI: Revival of Spain Under the First Bourbons (2)

The person employed in this mission was one of the most extraordinary characters in political life--the baron de Ripperdá, a Catholic gentleman of Spanish descent, but a native of the Netherlands, of good education but of no principle. Perceiving that his religion was a barrier to his ambition in his native country, he embraced the Protestant, and was returned a deputy to the states-general. His general talents and his knowledge of commerce were such that he was chosen envoy to Madrid, to settle the commercial differences of the two nations. Perceiving that both fortune and honours were to be more easily obtained in the service of Spain than in any other, he resigned his ministry, procured letters of naturalisation, and reverted to his original religion.

The fall of Alberoni, which was partly owing to his intrigues, and the bold plans he proposed for invigorating the industry and improving the revenues of the kingdom, rendered him a favourite with Philip; with the queen, his bold suggestion to negotiate immediately with the emperor established his credit. Being selected for the difficult mission, in November, 1725, he repaired secretly to Vienna. Early in the following year treaties were signed. For his services on this occasion, and still more for the magnificent, though impracticable proposals which he had made for the renovation of the Spanish monarchy, the ambassador was created duke de Ripperdá, a grandee of Spain, and on his return, prime minister.

[Sidenote: [1726-1729 A.D.]]

But his elevation turned his head; his inability to realise any of the magnificent promises which he had made showed him in his true colours--as an unprincipled adventurer. Not six months had elapsed since his accession when, by a royal decree, he was dismissed from his employments and transferred to the fortress of Segovia. There he would, doubtless, have ended his days without trial, had he not contrived to effect his escape by the aid of a maid-servant whom he had seduced, and who afterwards accompanied him in all his extraordinary adventures. He arrived safely in Portugal, embarked at Oporto, remained a short time in England, and proceeded into his native country; but the imminency of his danger increasing, he fled to Morocco, where a renegade had secured him a favourable reception. Whether, as is asserted, during his short stay in Holland he again embraced the Protestant faith, is perhaps doubtful, but that at the court of Mulei Abdallah he submitted to circumcision is probable, even though the relation rests on no other authority than that of his enemies. It is certain that for some years he directed the councils and commanded the armies of the Moorish emperor, after whose dethronement he retired to Istria, where he ended his days in 1737, professing, in his last moments, that he died in the Roman Catholic faith.

[Sidenote: [1729-1738 A.D.]]

The chief remaining transactions of this eventful reign must be related with greater brevity. For some time after the disgrace of Ripperdá, Spain adhered to the German alliance; and was alternately friendly or adverse to England, according as the policy of the two courts harmonised or varied. Gibraltar was more than once besieged, but without effect. British armaments frequently appeared off the Spanish coast, but without inflicting much injury. As the emperor was naturally averse again to admit the Spaniards into Italy, and sought for delays, even for evasions, in fulfilling his compact, in 1729 the Treaty of Seville, between Spain, England, and France, broke the connection between the courts of Vienna and Madrid. Philip, by threatening to revoke the commercial advantages secured by the Treaty of Seville, forced the English king to interfere in behalf of Don Charles. In virtue of his efforts, and the assistance of France, the infante was soon invested with the actual possession of Parma and Piacenza, and declared successor to Tuscany.[100] As England evinced a disposition to remain on good terms with the emperor, the Bourbons adhered the more closely to each other; the kings of Spain, France, and Sardinia entered into an alliance against Austria.

It was now that doubtful measures and useless treaties were succeeded by active and extended hostilities. While one French army crossed the Rhine, and another passed the Alps, a Spanish army under Charles invaded Naples, and conquered it almost without an effort. Sicily was next reduced; and the infante, by order of Philip, was solemnly crowned king of the Two Sicilies. By the Treaty of Vienna, in 1735, the emperor, whose arms had been almost uniformly unfortunate, consented to acknowledge Charles, and in return he received Parma and Tuscany.

Omitting the petty intrigues in the cabinet of Madrid--the rise of one worthless favourite, or the ruin of another--the foreign transactions of the country continued to be sufficiently important. England was soon brought into hostile collision with this monarchy. One reason was the jealousy entertained of the Bourbon family by the recent acquisition; another was the opposition thrown in the way of English commerce by the ministers of Philip; a still greater was the contraband traffic which England resolved to maintain with the American colonies--a traffic not very honourable to England and deeply injurious to Spain. On the other hand, the royal officers in the West Indies, under the pretext of the right of search, made many illegal seizures; and, on all occasions, exhibited indirect hostility to the British trade. Her right of search arose from her sovereignty, and had been confirmed by successive treaties; but it was suddenly assailed by the English opposition.[l]

There is no doubt that though the English were most frequently to blame in these transactions, several cases of injustice and violence might be imputed to the Spaniards. These cases were carefully culled out, and highly coloured by the British merchants: these were held out to the British public as fair samples of the rest, while a veil was thrown over the general practice of illicit traffic in America. The usual slowness of forms at Madrid and the difficulty of obtaining redress, even in the clearest cases, added to the national indignation in England: it was also inflamed by a denial of the right to cut logwood in the bay of Campeche, and disputes on the limits of the new settlement which the English had lately formed in North America, and which, in honour to the king, had received the name of Georgia.

These grievances of the British merchants, embodied in angry yet artful petitions, were urged by the opposition in repeated attacks and with combined exertions. First came a motion for papers, next the examination of witnesses, next a string of resolutions, then a bill for securing and encouraging trade to America. The tried ability of Pulteney led the van on these occasions, and under him were marshalled the practical knowledge of Barnard, the stately eloquence of Wyndham, and the rising genius of Pitt. William Murray, the future earl of Mansfield, also appeared at the bar as counsel for the petitioners, and thus commenced his brilliant public career. Every resource of oratory was applied to exaggerate the insults and cruelties of the Spaniards, and to brand as cowardice the minister’s wise and honourable love of peace. It was asserted that the prisoners taken from English merchant vessels had been not merely plundered of their property, but tortured in their persons, immured in dungeons, or compelled to work in the Spanish dockyards, with scanty and loathsome food, their legs cramped with irons, and their bodies overrun with vermin. Some captives and seamen who were brought to the bar gave testimony to these outrages, and were then implicitly believed. Yet calmer judgment may remember that they were not examined upon oath, and had every temptation to exaggerate which interest, party zeal, or resentment can afford; that to inveigh against the Spaniards was then considered a sure test of public spirit; and that they were told to expect, upon the fall of Walpole, a large and lucrative indemnity for their pretended wrongs.

[Sidenote: [1738-1739 A.D.]]

But the tale that produced the most effect upon the house, and found the loudest echo in the country, was what Burke has since ventured to call “the fable of Jenkins’ ears.” This Jenkins had been master of a trading sloop from Jamaica, which was boarded and searched by a Spanish _guarda costa_, and though no proofs of smuggling were discovered, yet, according to his own statement, he underwent the most barbarous usage. The Spanish captain, he said, had torn off one of his ears, bidding him carry it to his king, and tell his majesty that were he present he should be treated in the same manner.

This story, which had lain dormant for seven years, was now seasonably revived at the bar of the house of commons. It is certain that Jenkins had lost an ear, or part of an ear, which he always carried about with him wrapped in cotton, to display to his audience; but I find it alleged by no mean authority that he had lost it on another occasion, and perhaps, as seems to be insinuated, in the pillory. His tale, however, as always happens in moments of great excitement, was readily admitted without proof; and a spirited answer which he gave enhanced the popular effect. Being asked by a member what were his feelings when he found himself in the hands of such barbarians, “I recommended,” said he, “my soul to God, and my cause to my country.” These words rapidly flew from mouth to mouth, adding fuel to the general flame, and it is almost incredible how strong an impulse was imparted both to parliament and to the public. “We have no need of allies to enable us to command justice,” cried Pulteney; “the story of Jenkins will raise volunteers.”

On his part, Walpole did not deny that great outrages and injuries had been wrought by the Spaniards, but he expressed his hope that they might still admit of full and friendly compensation; he promised his strenuous exertions with the court of Madrid, and he besought the house not to close the avenue to peace by any intemperate proceedings, and especially by denouncing altogether the right of search,[101] which the Spaniards had so long exercised, and would hardly be persuaded to relinquish.[j]

SPANISH ACCOUNT OF THE WAR WITH ENGLAND (1739-1741 A.D.)

[Sidenote: [1739-1741 A.D.]]

At length Walpole could no longer resist public outcry; King George gave orders for a numerous squadron to be fitted out and appointed Vernon admiral of the fleet destined against the Spanish Antilles. A formal declaration of war was published on October 23rd, 1739. London received it with enthusiasm, the bells of the churches were pealed, a huge multitude accompanied the heralds, and everywhere it was heard with frenzied acclamation. It would seem that Great Britain’s salvation depended on this war, and speculators rejoiced at the prospect of the treasures to be brought from the mines of Peru and Potosí. It was also many years since the Spaniards had entered on a war with such unanimous good will. Monarch, ministers, and people looked upon it as a national struggle, in which justice and the interests and honour of king and state were at stake.

Fortunately also, the fleet arrived opportunely from America, with great profits, having evaded the vigilance of the English who attempted to give chase. By this means, while England was compelled to keep a considerable fleet to watch the movements of the French who threatened her coasts, numerous Spanish privateers set sail from all the ports of Spain, and cruising about with daring courage captured a number of English merchant ships in a very short time. We are assured that within three months of the issue of the letters of reprisal, eighteen English prizes had been brought into San Sebastian, and that before the year was over a list remitted from Madrid was published in Holland, which put the value of the prizes made at more than 23,000,000 reales [£234,000 or $1,170,000]. This only increased the anger and desire for vengeance of the English. Their efforts were principally directed against the Spanish possessions in the New World. Vernon’s squadron attacked and took Porto Bello, November 22nd, 1739. The news was received in England with universal jubilation, though it hardly called for such general rejoicing, the prize certainly not corresponding to the expenses of so large a fleet, all that Vernon seized at this place being three small ships and $3,000 in Spanish money.

The English now despatched a formidable fleet of twenty-one ships of the line and as many frigates with nine thousand men, to invade the West Indies, the chief object of their ambition.

This squadron was to join Vernon’s; and almost at the same time Commodore Anson set sail with another small squadron to cruise about the coast of Peru and Chile. Much time had passed since so large and well-equipped a fleet had set sail from Great Britain; the kingdom held the brightest hopes of it, the English thinking to cut off communication between Spain and the New World, and by depriving the former of the treasures of America to bring it to more humble and peaceable terms. But this nation, so apt to criticise the Spanish slowness, delayed their preparations for so long that the season passed, and the Spaniards had time to fortify their towns and prepare for defence. But the English attacked Cartagena, and succeeded in taking possession of several advanced forts at some distance from the town.

These trifling successes made Admiral Vernon so confident of victory, that he despatched letters to England announcing that he would shortly be master of the town. The news was received in London with extraordinary rejoicing; the English believed that they were near to overthrowing the Spanish empire in America, and in their enthusiasm they caused a medal to be struck, representing on one side Cartagena, and on the other a bust of Vernon, with an allegorical inscription to the illustrious avenger of national honour. These bright hopes speedily vanished; Vernon attempted an assault on the fort of San Lazaro, for which twelve hundred men were appointed, but nearly all fell victims to their ill-advised courage; the few who remained were cut down by a party of Spaniards who sallied out of the castle. This reverse increased the discord between Vernon and Wentworth, commander of the troops; the continual rains had caused an outbreak of a fatal disease which soon reduced the troops to half their number. They were compelled to abandon the enterprise, and withdrew to Jamaica, having destroyed all the forts they had taken.

Commodore Anson visited the coast of Chile, took possession of Payta, and spent three days in sacking and firing the town. He then directed his course to Panama in search of the rich vessels which carried the treasures of the Indies to Spain. He finally succeeded in giving chase to the Spanish galleon, _Nuestra Señora de Covadonga_, which he attacked and captured with all her treasures, valued at £313,000 [$1,565,000], the richest prize, says an English writer, ever brought into British ports, but also the only loss of any importance suffered by Spain in this war.

The English made other attempts on the coasts of the New World, but without success, either because of the intemperance of the climate and the discord among the generals, or because of the precautions and wise measures taken by the Spanish government. Admiral Vernon decided to attempt the conquest of Cuba; but after several fruitless attempts he soon saw that his forces were inadequate for the purpose. He was forced to withdraw, having lost eighteen hundred men. Thus we may count as destroyed the army and fleet which had left England, and raised the confident hopes of the English people of depriving Spain of her dominion in America. A few ships and a few weakened troops were all that remained on Vernon’s return to England. Such was the result of the naval war between England and Spain. An English contemporary writer calculates that at least twenty thousand men were sacrificed in this unfortunate expedition, and a foreign writer estimates the prizes taken by the Spaniards during the war at 407 English ships.[k]

With this temperate Spanish account English historians generally agree, Wm. Connor Sydney[m] calling the war “one of the greatest blots in the chronicles of the realm.” Spain’s new naval power had been largely due to the zeal of the minister José Patiño, who had, however, died in 1736, too soon to see the glory of the victory over England.[a]

THE WAR OF THE AUSTRIAN SUCCESSION (1740-1746 A.D.)

[Sidenote: [1740-1746 A.D.]]

The death of the emperor Charles VI, the famous competitor of Philip, without male issue, stimulated this monarch, as it did other sovereigns, to acts of spoliation. While Bavaria, Saxony, Prussia, and France each pursued its advantage, without regard to the succession which each had guaranteed with the deceased emperor, he looked toward Italy in search of an establishment for the infante Philip [or Felipe], his second son by the present queen. Hence all Europe was engaged in war. In 1741 an army was sent to Italy, a junction effected with the Neapolitans, and the combined forces marched into Lombardy. But several circumstances impeded the success of the Spanish arms. The king of Sardinia joined England and Austria; a superior force expelled Montemar, the Spanish general, from his position; a British squadron compelled the king of Naples to observe neutrality; and the troops of that power were consequently recalled. During the following years the war sometimes raged, but often languished, with various success. Don Philip headed the army in person; but was more than once compelled to retreat into the French territory; while at sea the superiority generally lay with the British over the combined fleets of France and Spain. At length the Neapolitan king broke his neutrality, and rejoined the Spaniards: this junction enabled Don Philip to resume the offensive. But after some desperate struggles,[102] the Spanish and French troops were expelled. In the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, in 1748, Spain was disposed to lay down her arms, by the cession of Parma, Guastalla, and Piacenza, to Don Philip.

Before the conclusion of this peace, in July, 1746, an attack of apoplexy hurried Philip V to the grave. His character is apparent enough from his actions: indeed, it requires no other illustration. Whatever might be his general weakness, his unconquerable indolence, his subjection to his queens, he had a sincere desire for the good of Spain; and in part that desire was fulfilled. Under his rule the country enjoyed more prosperity than it had experienced since the days of Philip II. Nor was he deficient in a taste for literature. He founded the royal library of Madrid, the royal Spanish academy, the academy of history, and the academy of San Fernando, for the encouragement of the fine arts. In private life he was a model for princes: he was almost spotless. His only fault, let us rather say his only misfortune, was his want of capacity for the station he occupied: he would have been an admirable private gentleman, or an exemplary ecclesiastic.

THE GOOD KING FERDINAND VI (1746-1759 A.D.)

Ferdinand VI, second son of the deceased monarch, by Maria Louisa of Savoy (the fate of the eldest, Luis, has been already related), was, on his succession, in his thirty-fourth year. Though he did not want natural affection for his step-brothers, he was not to be controlled by the queen-dowager, whose influence was forever at an end; nor would he sacrifice the best interests of his kingdom to provide Italian sovereignties for the infantes [his half-brothers]. Hence, he consented to procure peace for his dominions by the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, as related. His disposition was averse to war, which, as he clearly saw, had obstructed the career of the national improvement; nor was he so blind as to be ignorant that the blood and treasures of his people had been wasted for French or Austrian rather than Spanish objects. He respected the king of France as the head of his house, but he asserted his resolution not to become the viceroy of that monarch. If to this we add that he was a prince of honour, of integrity, of strict veracity, we shall have said all that truth will permit in his praise.

He had the melancholy temperament, the incapacity, the indolence of his father; nor was he less uxorious. His queen, Maria Theresa Magdalena Barbara, daughter of João V, king of Portugal, to whom he had been united in 1729, was a woman of engaging manners and of mild disposition, but avaricious. The same blemish attached to one of the most influential ministers, the marquis of Ensenada,[103] a man of low origin, but of ready parts and of profuse expenditure.

But the strangest influence over the destiny of the kingdom was that exercised by a singer, the famous Farinelli, who by his profession had made a fortune in England, and had been attracted to the court of Madrid in the hope that his music would have some effect over the hypochondriac Philip.[l]

_The Singer Farinelli_

Carlo Broschi, surnamed Farinelli, was a Neapolitan, whose voice and skill had obtained him great musical renown, and enabled him to amass a handsome fortune upon the boards of the London opera-house. During one of Philip’s worst fits of hypochondria, Elizabeth Farnese invited Farinelli to Madrid, in order to try the effect of exquisite music upon her husband’s obstinate melancholy. The result answered to her utmost hopes. She arranged a concert in a room adjoining that where Philip had for months lain in bed, pertinaciously resisting every entreaty to attend either to the business of his kingdom or the cleanliness of his person. Farinelli’s vocal powers aroused him. He sent for the performer, and amidst a profusion of encomiums, promised to grant him whatever reward he should ask. Whereupon Farinelli, by the queen’s instructions, requested the king to rise from his bed, undergo the usual operations of shaving and dressing, and attend the council of state. Faithful to his word, Philip complied, and returned for a while to his ordinary habits of life. From that moment Farinelli was retained, with a handsome pension, at Philip’s court, and daily soothed the half insane monarch with his melodious warblings.

[Sidenote: [1737-1759 A.D.]]

Upon Ferdinand’s accession this favour rose to unexampled height. Farinelli, besides being appointed director of the opera, and, in fact, superintendent of all the royal pleasures, was honoured with the cross of Calatrava.

Farinelli seems never to have forgotten himself in this singular exaltation. He rejected all bribes, laughed at the adulation of his superiors, and long answered to those who besought his interference, “I am a musician, not a politician.” In spite of his modesty, however, he at length became a political agent, having discovered that his intervention was, upon many occasions, agreeable and convenient to Barbara. The influence he was thence forward led to exert acted in two opposite directions from the honest feelings of his heart, as did Barbara’s from the dictates of her policy: his warm attachment to the empress-queen, whose subject he was born, and to England, where he had acquired his wealth, rendering him a zealous advocate of their interests, whilst friendship for Ensenada induced him, if not to assist in forwarding all that minister’s plans, yet to make the utmost exertions to support him in his place.[n] By what strange instruments are mankind governed![104]

The reign of Ferdinand exhibits little more than a contest between the British and French agents, in support of the respective policy of their nations: Carvajal took part with the former, Ensenada with the latter. In 1754, Carvajal’s death dejected the English as much as it elated the hopes of the French. Soon afterwards, Ensenada himself was disgraced. Ferdinand continued to observe a wise and dignified neutrality in the European war, occasioned by the rivalry of France and England. Not even the offer of Minorca, which the French conquered from the English, nor that of assisting in the reduction of Gibraltar, could incline the court in favour of the Gallic policy. Equally fruitless was the offer of Gibraltar by the English themselves, as the condition of joining the confederacy against France. But so mild, and just, and virtuous a prince was not long spared to Spain and to Europe. After the death of his queen, in 1758, he would never attend to either affairs of state or the ordinary enjoyments of life: in twelve months he followed her to the tomb. As he died without issue, he left the crown to his next brother, Don Charles, king of the Two Sicilies.

Indolent as were the habits of Ferdinand, he was a blessing to Spain, not merely from his pacific reign, but from his encouragement of agriculture, commerce, and the arts.[105] But the greatest benefit he procured for his country was the abolition of the grievous abuse of papal patronage. By it the chair of St. Peter had nominated to all benefices which fell vacant during eight months out of the twelve--thence called apostolical--and in any month, provided the possessor died in Rome. This monstrous usurpation was independent of expectations, indults, annats, fifteenths, and the other endless sources of papal rapacity. In 1753, the king procured from the pope a concordat, by which the right of nomination, during every month, was reserved to the crown; and the tributes contracted to be paid by the holder of the benefice to the see of Rome, in return for his nomination to it, were suppressed.

CHARLES III (1759-1788 A.D.)

[Sidenote: [1759-1762 A.D.]]

By the Treaty of Vienna the two crowns of Naples and Spain were never to be placed on the same head: hence Charles III, on his accession to the latter, was compelled to resign the other in favour of a son. As the eldest, Philip, was a constant prey to mental imbecility, the second, Charles, succeeded to the rights of primogeniture, and was declared heir to the Spanish monarchy; while the third, Ferdinand, was hailed as king of the Two Sicilies. Having appointed a council of regency during the minority of Ferdinand, Charles bade adieu to his former subjects, whom his administration had strongly attached to his person, and proceeded to Madrid. In the ministry he made few changes. He retained General Wall, but suffered Ensenada to return to court; he dismissed the minister of finance, whom he replaced by the marquis Squillaci [called Esquilache by the Spaniards], an Italian nobleman of considerable experience in that department; and he advised Farinelli to quit the kingdom.

When Charles ascended the throne, he found France and Great Britain involved in a war which, under the vigorous administration of Pitt, was highly disastrous to the arms of Louis. The success of the English displeased him; he feared lest the victors should turn their arms against his richest settlements in the New World. France was eager to make common cause with him. The result was an intimate alliance, known by the name of the Family Compact, by which the enemy of either was to be considered the enemy of both, and neither was to make peace without the consent of the other. However secret the articles, they were suspected by Pitt, who would have anticipated Spain by an immediate declaration of war, and by breaking off the hollow negotiations which, to gain time, France had commenced, had he not been replaced at this juncture by a court favourite, the earl of Bute. The new ministry were made the dupes of the Bourbon courts; the negotiations were artfully prolonged until the arrival of the Spanish treasures from the Indies, and until preparations were made by both countries to carry on the war with vigour.

[Sidenote: [1762-1781 A.D.]]

The mask was then dropped, and hostilities were invited. However unstable the English ministry, under a sovereign more feeble even than his predecessors, a vigour had been given by Pitt to every branch of the public service, which in the present war secured the triumph of English arms. In the West Indies, the Havana, in the east, Manila, were taken (1762); nor were the allied French and Spanish arms successful in Portugal, which, in punishment of its connection with England, was invaded by twenty-two thousand men, under the marquis of Soria. They could only take Almeida before they were compelled to retire within the Spanish territory. Worse than all other disasters was the state of the finances, which were, in fact, exhausted; while the interruption to trade, occasioned by the present hostilities, rendered it impossible for any minister to rely on new contributions. In this emergency, the two courts turned their eyes towards peace, which was concluded at Paris, February 10th, 1763. Omitting the concessions made by France, Spain purchased the restoration of the conquests which had been made, by the cession of Florida, by the permission to cut logwood in the bay of Honduras, and by a renunciation of all claim to the Newfoundland fisheries.

These unfavourable conditions were not likely to remove, however it might be prudent to smother, the irritation of the Spaniards. But such, at length, were the improvements effected in the collection of the revenues, and in the national forces by sea and land; such the results of a wise economy and a better discipline, under the superintendence of the count of Aranda, a man of enterprising genius, that these forces were considerably augmented, and taught to confide in their own strength. The British ambassadors at Madrid were no longer treated with even outward respect. That Spain was inclined to war is evident from the whole conduct of its ministers; but the desire was counteracted by the internal embarrassments of France. Thus affairs continued, until the count of Aranda being succeeded by the marquis of Grimaldi, and the latter, in his turn, by the count of Florida-Blanca, England received another blow through her ally Portugal. Portugal, the queen-dowager of which was the sister of Charles, joined the Family Compact.

The progress of the misunderstanding between England and her American colonies (1776-1783) afforded an opening for humbling her power. By entering into an alliance with the rebels, and by an open war with Britain, France at once indulged her hereditary enmity, and secured a friend in the rising states. With a policy as blind as it was vindictive, Florida-Blanca persuaded Charles to concur with France in behalf of the revolted colonies. Charles declared war, procured the co-operation of a French fleet, and caused Gibraltar to be closely invested. The situation of England, at this time, was exceedingly critical. By all Europe her ruin was considered at hand. Without an ally; opposed not only to her colonies, but to France and Spain, which were favoured by the secret wishes of Portugal, Morocco, Holland, Russia, and Austria; a prey to intestine commotions; cursed by an imbecile and extravagant court, and by a ministry no less despicable, her prospects were indeed hopeless. But the native vigour of her defenders, though it could not avert disasters unexampled in her history, and was in most instances lamentably misdirected, at least averted impending ruin. Gibraltar, though garrisoned with no more than a handful of men, exhibited a defence which astonished all Europe; and, though the coasts of England were frequently insulted by the appearance of a hostile flag, no descent followed. These fleets were not long suffered to exhibit even these ineffectual bravadoes. Having retired to the peninsular ports, one of them was defeated by Admiral Rodney, who about the same time had the good fortune to capture a convoy of fifteen sail. But the capture of a British merchant fleet by the enemy; the loss of some settlements in the West Indies and on the banks of the Mississippi, and the conquest of West Florida by Galvez, an enterprising Spanish officer, more than counterbalanced this advantage.

These disasters would have been much greater, had not the English cabinet contrived to spread division between the two allied powers. The offer of Gibraltar--an offer made with anything but sincerity--more than once arrested the hostile march of Spain, and led to secret negotiations. Florida-Blanca had, however, the good fortune to propose the famous armed neutrality, by which the maritime power of Europe endeavoured to annihilate the naval superiority of Britain; and he had the still greater glory of recovering Minorca [February, 1782, after seventy-four years of English possession]. Elated by this success the Bourbon ministers despatched a formidable fleet to expel the English from the West Indies, whilst their allies the Dutch, in concert with Hyder (Haidar) Ali, strove to drive the same enemy from the Carnatic. But the French admiral De Grasse sustained so signal a defeat that the enterprise, as far as regarded the West Indies, was abandoned. To England, however, the war was fatal: the American colonies obtained their independence. Humbled and discouraged, the ministry now made propositions for peace; and negotiations for the purpose were opened at Paris. It was at length concluded (1783) on terms sufficiently humiliating to the British nation. She surrendered the two Floridas, Minorca, Tobago, and Gorée on the African coast, consented to be excluded from the greater part of the Gulf of Mexico, and to admit the French to a participation of the Newfoundland fisheries: while, in return for such concessions, she could not obtain the slightest advantage for regulating her trade either with the peninsula or the American colonies.

Advantageous as were the conditions of peace, Charles, when his resentment towards England was cooled, could not fail to perceive the impolicy of the recent war. He had assisted to establish a republic on the confines of his Mexican empire, and he knew that his own colonies had caught the same fire of independence. In fact, he had soon the mortification to see extensive districts in South America in open insurrection.

The remaining foreign transactions of Charles may be shortly dismissed. His treaty with the sultan of Constantinople and with the Barbary states freed his subjects from piratical depredations, and procured them commercial advantages in the Mediterranean superior to those enjoyed by any other European power. In Portugal, where his influence was confirmed by the marriage of his daughter Carlotta with the infante João, afterwards João IV, he procured from the French a share in the commercial advantages which had been hitherto exclusively enjoyed by the English. In an equal degree was the English influence impaired in Holland by the ascendency of the Bourbon courts. He wrested from the ministry most of the commercial privileges which during two centuries had been possessed by the British in the West Indies. But as he grew in years he became less favourably disposed towards France, and more willing to cultivate a good understanding with England.

[Sidenote: [1759-1783 A.D.]]

The internal administration of Charles was not less signal than his foreign policy. It exhibits many novelties; of which some were highly beneficial, while others were odious to the people. So long as the efforts of his ministers were confined to the improvement of commerce and agriculture, to cleansing and lighting the streets, to the construction and repairs of the roads, to the reorganisation of the police, and to the amplification of the public revenues, they were cheered by the popular approbation; but when flapped hats and long cloaks--those screeners of assassination--were prohibited, a loud outcry was raised against the introduction of foreign customs. A monopoly for the supply of oil and bread to the people of Madrid bore on the lower orders much more sensibly than a change of costume, and called forth loud imprecations against the marquis Squillaci, the author of this impolitic innovation. On the evening of Palm Sunday (1766) the mob arose. They spread throughout the city, breaking the lamps, assassinating the soldiers, and forcing every man they saw to lower the brim of his hat. The following morning the king communicated with them; promised that the obnoxious minister should be replaced by a Spaniard; that the decree against flapped hats and cloaks should be repealed; that the price of oil, bread, soap, and bacon should be reduced, the monopoly destroyed, and the insurgents pardoned.

The following morning, however, hearing that the royal family and the ministers had fled to Aranjuez, they assembled in greater numbers than before. During forty-eight hours the city was a prey to this lawless mob. Charles wrote to the Council of Castile that the obnoxious minister was already exiled, and that, if the people would quietly disperse, his other promises should be executed with equal fidelity. The message, being proclaimed throughout the city, was received with shouts of applause; the rioters instantly surrendered their arms and drums, shook hands with the soldiers, and departed to their homes.

That this commotion was a political intrigue was no less the conviction of the king than of his ministers; and his suspicions fell on the Jesuits.[l]

EXPULSION OF THE JESUITS

[Sidenote: [1759-1767 A.D.]]

It is unnecessary to trace here the rise and progress of this celebrated order whose position in history has been such a peculiar one. It will be sufficient to observe that their spirit of intrigue, dangerous maxims, bond of union, and persevering ambition had long rendered them an object of fear and jealousy to many of the European governments; and there was scarcely a political intrigue, or public commotion, in which they were not actually implicated, or supposed to be engaged. Such, however, was their extensive influence, from the number and talents of their members, and the authority which they exercised over the public mind, by monopolising, in a great degree, the duties of education; such also was their influence in the cabinets of Catholic princes, as directors of their consciences, and such the wealth and power they had appropriated, that till the middle of the eighteenth century no statesman had been found bold enough to smite this spiritual colossus. The first blow was struck in the petty kingdom of Portugal, by the marquis of Pombal, the minister of a weak and superstitious monarch, whose court and household were filled by their members and adherents.

From a suspicion, well or ill founded, that they were implicated in the memorable attempt to assassinate the king, they were in a single day involved in one common disgrace, their property confiscated, their members transported as prisoners to the coast of Italy and set ashore in the states of the church. Their expulsion from Portugal (1759) dissipated the terror inspired by their name and power, and prepared the way for their expulsion from France, which took place in 1764, with circumstances of more humanity and moderation than in Portugal.

It now became the leading principle of the French minister to complete their downfall in other countries, and particularly to obtain their expulsion from Spain. For this purpose, Choiseul employed all the resources of intrigue to excite alarm at their character and principles, and implicate them in every offence which was likely to throw disgrace on their body. He did not scruple even to circulate forged letters, in the name of their general and chiefs, and to propagate reports of the most odious and criminal nature against the members themselves individually. These artifices and this anxiety will not appear superfluous, when it is considered that Spain was the country which gave rise to the institution, and fostered it with peculiar affection; that the king, a devout prince, had shown himself its friend and protector. The final cause which led to their expulsion was the success of the means employed to persuade the king that their intrigues had caused the recent tumult at Madrid, and that they were still forming new machinations against his own person and the royal family. Influenced by this opinion, Charles, from their zealous protector, became at once their implacable enemy, and hastened to follow the example of the French government (1767).

[Sidenote: [1767-1783 A.D.]]

He confided the execution to Count de Aranda, who had so ably suppressed the commotions at Madrid. The king himself wrote, and directed with his own hand, circular letters to the governors of each province, which they were to open at a particular hour and in a particular place. When the period arrived, the six colleges of the Jesuits at Madrid were surrounded at midnight with troops, headed by officers of the police, and admission being obtained, the bells were secured, and a sentinel placed at the door of each cell. The rector was commanded to assemble the community; and the different members being collected in the refectory, the royal decree of expulsion was formally read. Each member was then permitted to take his breviary, linen, chocolate, snuff, a few other conveniences, and his money, on specifying the amount in writing. They were distributed in different vehicles, each carriage under the escort of two dragoons, to prevent any communication, and were thus conveyed to the coast. So complete were the precautions, and so prompt and regular was the execution, that the inhabitants of the capital were ignorant of the event till the following morning, when the cavalcade was already on its journey.

In the same manner each college, in the different parts of Spain, was invested. The transports, under the convoy of several frigates, steered for the ecclesiastical state, and appeared off Cività Vecchia, where the different officers had orders to land their unfortunate charge. But the pope forbade their admission, under the pretext that, if the Catholic sovereigns of Europe should abolish the religious societies, the papal dominions would be too small, and the treasure too poor to maintain them. During these delays, the Jesuits were crowded like convicts on board the transports, in the most sultry season of a sultry climate; and of the old and infirm, or those who had suffered from their sedentary life, numbers perished within sight of land. At length, after beating about the Mediterranean, exposed to storms and tempests for three months, they were received on the isle of Corsica; those who had the misfortune to survive preceding hardships were deposited in warehouses like bales of goods, without beds, and almost without the common necessaries of life. They remained in this deplorable situation, till their destiny was fixed by a compromise with the pope, when they were permitted to repair to Italy, and receive the scanty pittance allotted for their maintenance by the king of Spain. In the distant and extensive colonies of South America, similar precautions were adopted.

On considering this transaction with impartiality, it is impossible to deny that, however necessary the expulsion of the Jesuits might be deemed, yet the execution itself was one of the most arbitrary and cruel measures ever held out to the indignation of mankind. No other reason was alleged for these rigorous measures than the absolute good pleasure of the king. In this state of proscription they were not only prohibited from justifying their conduct, but it was ordained that if one single Jesuit should send forth the slightest apology in their favour, the pensions of all should instantly cease, and that all subjects of Spain who should presume to publish any writing, either for or against them, should be punished as if guilty of high treason: circumstances which can scarcely be credited in a free nation, if the truth were not still attested by the edict for their expulsion. The only apology which can be advanced in favour of such a cruel measure is that, the whole body being closely linked together in absolute obedience to their general, no one member could presume to publish anything without the approbation of his superior; and such was their mighty influence over the consciences of persons of all ranks and descriptions that, if any had been permitted to continue in Spain, or to return thither while the ferment subsisted, they might have excited dangerous tumults among the people.

Charles notified this important measure to the head of the church in firm but respectful terms. It was not to be expected that the pope would acquiesce in so sudden and unqualified an expulsion of the most zealous partisans of the holy see, and still less so bold and irritable a pontiff as Clement XIII. The reply of the king announced respect and affection for the head of the church, but unshaken firmness in his resolution. The example of Spain was speedily followed by the king of Naples. The Jesuits were expelled with the same precautions as in Spain, and conveyed without ceremony across the frontier into the ecclesiastical state. When a petty sovereign like the duke of Parma ventured to expel the Jesuits from his states, and establish various regulations to restrain the papal authority, Clement deemed it a proper opportunity to exercise his spiritual power, without the danger of a repulse. He therefore issued a brief against the duke, threatening his territories with interdict, and his person with excommunication, unless he revoked his ordinances against the privileges and rights of the church.

The princes of the house of Bourbon, watchful for an opportunity to abridge the pretensions of the Roman see, accordingly opposed this exertion of papal authority with the most vigorous measures. France occupied Avignon and the Venaissin, and Naples seized Benevento; and all the Catholic powers united in a common censure of the papal brief as illegal and vindictive. But while the dispute was yet in suspense, the decease of the aged pontiff opened a field for the struggle of the civil against the ecclesiastical power. No intrigue was spared by the Catholic powers to baffle the influence of the Jesuits, and obtain the election of a person who would enter into their views; and they at length procured the choice of Ganganelli, a monk of the order of Minor Conventuals. He ultimately yielded to the incessant and pressing solicitations of all the Catholic powers; and on the 21st of July, 1773, abolished the order of Jesus by a bull, in which he ascribes his consent to respect for the representations of the king of Spain, who insisted on this measure as necessary for the tranquillity of Christendom and the peace of his own dominions.

Charles, satisfied with having annihilated the power of the Jesuits, secured the tranquillity of his dominions, and eradicated their influence as a body, reverted to his natural mildness, and by a royal rescript permitted the members who yet survived to return to Spain, and obtain possession of lands which had fallen to them by inheritance (1783).[c]

[Sidenote: [1783-1788 A.D.]]

It is almost needless to add that, in the present, as in the case of the Templars, and at a later period in that of the suppressed monasteries in England, a very small portion of the possessions so unjustly confiscated was applied to any useful purpose; in Spain, as in England, it found its way into the pockets of a needy sovereign, of courtly minions, or of unprincipled adventurers.

In most respects, the internal administration of Charles was one of unmixed good. The increase of the standing army, a force absolutely necessary, not merely for the national defence, but for the preservation of domestic tranquillity; its improved discipline; a judicious organisation of the police; the restriction of ecclesiastical immunities in such cases as were incompatible with the well-being of the people; the circumscription of the powers of the Inquisition; an attempt to colonise the Sierra Morena; the establishment of schools to supply the void left by the expulsion of the Jesuits, signalised the administration of the count of Aranda. The same reforms were extended or improved by the count of Florida-Blanca, who added others of even superior importance. The encouragement of agriculture, commerce, and the useful arts of life; a radical change in the intercourse of Spain with her colonies; a considerable augmentation in the returns of the mines, in the customs, in every branch of the revenue; the introduction of new manufactures, and the encouragement of such as were already established; the facilitation of intercourse, by means of new roads and canals, between the great marts of Spain; and numerous reforms in the forms of judicial process, and in the responsibility of the judges, were a few of the many benefits conferred by this great minister on his country.

Charles III died, December 14th, 1788, at the age of seventy-three. From the vigour of his constitution he would, doubtless, have lived longer, had not his heart been affected by the precarious state of his relations in France, by the loss of his son Don Gabriel, of his daughter-in-law Doña Maria of Portugal, and of their infant. He was a prince of considerable talents, of excellent intentions, and of blameless morals. In his public character, his best praise is to be found in the fact that, through his ministers, he introduced a degree of prosperity to which his people had been strangers since the days of Philip II. In private life he was unlike most kings. During a long widowhood, his example afforded no encouragement to licentiousness: as he was severe towards himself, he was naturally so toward others. His chief defects were obstinacy, too great reserve, even with his ministers, and an immoderate addiction to the exercise of hunting. By his queen Amelia, a princess of Saxony, he left issue (1) Philip Pascal, excluded through natural imbecility; (2) Charles his successor, imprisoned and forced to abdicate by Bonaparte; (3) Ferdinand, king of the Two Sicilies. Four other sons preceded him to the tomb.[l]

Hume[h] calls Charles III “the only good, great, and patriotic king that providence had vouchsafed to Spain in modern times.” Coxe[c] tells of his placid temper, and his lovableness; “those who attended on his infancy grew gray, or died in his service.” The anecdote is told of him that on his death-bed his confessor asked if he could pardon his enemies, and he answered; “Why should I have waited till this extremity? They were all forgiven the moment after the offence”--a spirit rare indeed in Spanish history.[a]

FOOTNOTES

[97] [“Henceforward for years, during the most troublous crisis of Spain’s fall, she did more for the country and for the young king and queen than all the ministers together. Manners and morals were reformed, light and brightness penetrated where gloom and ignorance alone had existed before. A Frenchwoman sent specially to serve French interests, she stood firm in defence of Philip and his wife, and of Spanish traditions, when everything depended on her prudence.”--HUME.[d]]

[98] [“Here they committed the most enormous sacrileges, adding the rage of enemies to that of heretics,” says San Felipe.[b]]

[99] [“After thirteen years of struggle, the most obstinate and deadly in the modern history of Europe, Catalonia was brought back to the fold, shorn of all her privileges and assimilated to the contemned Castile.”--HUME.[h]]

[100] [“And so at last, after years of constant plotting and secret treaties innumerable, Elizabeth Farnese had triumphed in the great object of her life: all Europe accepted the sovereignty of her son over the Italian dominions of her forefathers. She had kept Europe in effervescence for years, but she had her way; and the persistence of one woman had re-established Spanish influence in Italy and raised Spain once more to a leading place in the councils of the world.”--HUME.[h]]

[101] [The importance of this “right of search” will recur in connection with the War of 1812 between England and the United States. The war hereafter described is sometimes called “The War of Jenkins’ Ear.”]

[102] [“At Piacenza the Franco-Spanish army was literally cut to bits by Lichtenstein (July 16th, 1746), and the ambitious dreams of Elizabeth Farnese seemed to melt into thin air.”--HUME.[h] Fuller details of this war will be found in the French, Austrian, and English histories.]

[103] [_En se nada_, that is, “in himself nothing,” referring to his humble origin.]

[104] [Was it not time, after the disastrous influences of cardinals, monks, warriors, merchants, and noblemen had been tormenting Spain for centuries, that a musician should be tried? Are not the eminently beneficial results of the singer’s influence over the benevolent king his justification?]

[105] [Martin Hume[d] calls Ferdinand VI “the most truly beneficent sovereign that Spain had known for centuries. The encouragement extended to learning and intellectual progress was even more marked than that given by his father. Academies and learned societies sprang up everywhere;” and again,[h] “Ferdinand had found Spain struggling painfully to the light, still ruined, bankrupt, and miserable. He left it enjoying comparative prosperity, with a fleet of fifty ships of war and £3,000,000 ($15,000,000) in the treasury.”]