Vendetta in Spain Read online

‘At the date of Ferdinand’s death she was still only twenty-six, and an exceptionally lovely woman. She had not long been a widow when she secretly married a Captain in her Guards named Munoz. Incredible as it may sound, still in secret she had nine children by him. The strain of keeping up appearances while leading this double life hardly bears thinking about, and naturally the affairs of the country suffered in consequence; she became a puppet in the hands of factions and military adventurers.

  ‘In the 1846 the young Queen, Isabella II, although only thirteen, was declared of age and married to her cousin, the Duke of Cadiz. He was a spineless creature, so the power emanating from the throne continued to be the plaything of unscrupulous intriguers. To worsen matters it soon became evident that she had inherited even more than the normal share of the Bourbon appetites.’

  The King paused to smile, took another drink from his glass, which de Quesnoy had refilled, then added, ‘Perhaps I should say “appetite” for in this case I have not so much in mind the gastronomic feats of Louis XIV or of Louis XVI, who frequently ate a whole chicken as a single course in a meal, but the amorous endurance which caused Henry of Navarre to be nicknamed Le Vert Galant, and led to Louis XV keeping a harem busy in his “Parc au Cerfs”. Every handsome guardsman Queen Isabella set eyes on became grist to her mill, and her immoralities were so flagrant that after years of misrule by her favourites the people rebelled and threw her out.

  ‘With her to exile in France she took her young son, my father, and in 1870 she abdicated in his favour, but he became King Alfonso XII only in name. Meanwhile, under the Provisional Government of Serrano and General Prim, there ensued two years of semi-anarchy here while the Spanish people demanded a King, and half the Royal Houses in Europe wrangled over who should supply one. Feeling was so intense that it started the Franco-Prussian war, but Prim eventually decided upon Amadeo of Savoy, the second son of King Victor Emanuel II.

  ‘Poor fellow, he was no match for such an imbroglio. Generals, Carlists, Liberals and Cardinals all combined to make his life hell. In a little under three years he threw in his hand and returned to Italy.

  ‘The distracted Cortes then proclaimed a Republic, but the great bulk of the people was bitterly opposed to it and the Government lost all control of them. On any excuse armed mobs surged through the cities looting and murdering, bands of peasants turned themselves into bandits robing travellers and holding them to ransom. To save Spain, Don Carlos, son of the first Don Carlos, raised his standard in the north and launched the second Carlist war. That only made matters worse, as thousands more Spaniards set about cutting one another’s throats.

  ‘In desperation a General named Martinex Campos made a pronunciamiento calling on my father to return and ascend the throne. He had just completed his first term as an officer-cadet at Sandhurst. Immediately, he set out for Spain. He was received with tremendous acclamation, but the first task thrust upon him was to defeat the Carlist army. He did so, but at a price. History repeated itself. Once again the Church and the traditionalists—those elements which in any country are the natural supporters of monarchy—had rallied round Don Carlos. To bring peace and keep his throne my father was compelled to become dependent on the Liberals.

  ‘He was a good man and would have made a fine King; but he was unlucky. When he was about my present age he married for love the beautiful Mercedes, daughter of the Duke de Montpensier. They adored one another, but after being Queen for only six months she died. With her death the spirit went out of him. He succeeded in keeping the peace, but only by persuading the Conservatives to make great concessions, and an era of two-party government set in. The Conservative leader, Cánovas, made a dubious pact with the Liberal leader, Sagasta. They rigged the elections and played box and cox, so that when the people became dissatisfied with one party the other went in. That system, which makes a mockery of the people’s rights, has now continued here for many years.

  ‘Shortly after Queen Mercedes’ death, from a sense of duty my father married again—my beloved mother, who was born the Archduchess Maria Cristina of Hapsburg. She bore him two daughters. He died still grieving for Mercedes, at the early age of twenty-eight, and I, as you know, was born a King posthumously.

  ‘My mother is the most wise and saintly woman I have ever known; but once again Spain faced the uncertainties of a long Regency under a Queen. During my minority no course was open to her but to allow her Ministers to make use of the monarchy as a front to cover their own policies and ambitions. It was owing largely to her tact that the throne survived our war with the United States in ’98. It is true that for long Cuba had been shockingly misgoverned and the Americans had some justification in taking it from us to protect their commercial interests there, but there was no justification whatever for those rapacious dollar grubbers to rob us afterwards of the Philippines, and the surrender of this last really valuable fragment of the old Spanish Empire caused our people intense indignation. That, and the loss of our entire fleet, was enough to overturn any throne, but my mother succeeded in riding out the storm, and seeing me crowned.

  ‘Yet in the four years since I attained my majority there have been no less than fourteen political crises and I have had eight Prime Ministers. Such is my inheritance—an ever-increasing pressure from the people to give them a real say in the government of the country, but a Constitution which compels me to accept the policies recommended by politicians who have made a compromise solely to keep themselves in power, and whose views hardly differ whether they label themselves Conservative or Liberal.’

  Having swallowed the rest of his wine, the King resumed briskly. ‘Now, let us sum up, and assess the results of this hundred years of civil war and dissension through which Spain has passed. Again and again, to preserve the monarchy in its legitimate line Queen Regents and youthful Sovereigns have been compelled to turn for support to the Liberals. And in more recent times so-called Conservative ministers have risen to power only by making big concessions to the Left. In consequence, as nepotism is still rife here, more than half the high posts in my Civil Service are held by Liberals.

  ‘Mark you, I do not suggest for one moment that these men are lacking patriotism, and I am confident that ninety-nine per cent of the Spanish people are entirely loyal to my person. But the great majority of Liberals of all nationalities have their heads among the clouds. Many of them are fine people with high ideals, their only desire being to better the lot of the masses. Unfortunately they fail to realise that in many countries, of which Spain is one, the bulk of the people is not sufficiently advanced to govern themselves. The result of their measures, as has been proved only too often, is to open the way for revolution. Evil men with extremist views make use of them, then climb to power over their dead bodies. That is the danger here.

  ‘I believe my police to be reasonably efficient. I have no doubt at all that they would not hesitate to arrest anyone whom they had proof was an anarchist, or involved in treasonable activities. But many of the senior officers in the police are Liberals. Those who are hold that every man has a right to express his opinions. They deliberately delude themselves about the degree of danger arising from orators who, under the guise of agitating for reforms, stimulate revolution, and this is particularly so in Barcelona where the police, being Catalans, naturally have a certain sympathy with revolutionaries who cloak their aims under a demand for Catalonian independence. It is these people who spread the doctrines of Karl Marx and Bakúnin, and they are the real root of the trouble. It is they who inspire fanatics and men with a grievance to become active anarchists; yet their activities are condoned by the police on the grounds of permitting free speech. If you could secure evidence that the most prominent of these mob orators, and writers of inflammatory articles, were secretly connected with the bomb plots we would be able to send them to prison, and so make some headway in stamping out the breeding-ground of anarchy. You see now what I have in mind. Do you agree?’

  ‘I do, Sir,’ de Quesnoy replied at once.
>
  The King came to a sudden halt in front of the Count, looked at him fixedly, and said, ‘Good! And after this long dissertation of mine, may I take it that you understand my reasons for not trusting my police to co-operate fully with you?’

  ‘Indeed yes. Your Majesty could not have explained matters more lucidly.’

  ‘Tell me, then; are you game to carry out an independent investigation?’

  ‘I am. It is just something of this kind that I need at the moment. But you spoke, sir, of giving me some aid yourself. Since your police are ruled out, what form will it take?’

  ‘I have to go into Madrid this afternoon. I will order the police dossier on Morral and his associates to be sent to the Palace. One of my gentlemen whom I can trust will deliver it to de Cordoba, and François can go into Madrid to collect it from him tomorrow. No official will then know that you have seen it or that it has been out of my possession.’

  ‘That would be excellent. For how long may I keep it?’

  ‘A few days should be sufficient for you to make such notes as you require from it. Should the police ask to have it back I can always put them off by saying that I have not yet had time to study it fully.’

  For some ten minutes more they discussed the matter; then Don Alfonso rang the bell, the others came back into the room, and shortly afterwards they all escorted him down to the courtyard.

  The arrangement about the dossier worked without a hitch and de Vendôme brought it to the Count on the following afternoon; but it proved far larger than he had expected, and consisted of so many papers that they filled two large suitcases. Delighted to have so much material to examine, de Quesnoy set to work on it that evening.

  It was a quiet household. De Vendôme was a deeply religious young man and, with Father Tomaso’s help, was endeavouring to catch up in his work as President of numerous Church charities; he was also an exceptionally fine horseman and he had won prizes for jumping at International Horse Shows; so he spent much of his time out riding or playing polo with the King. The Infanta, aided by her lady-in-waiting Doña Isabella, also busied herself with many charities and at other times pottered in her garden. Conde Ruiz was much in Madrid on business and spent most nights there at the family Palacio, as the two brothers were devoted to one another, and, although the Palacio was owned by the elder, it was so spacious that the younger also had a private suite there and he, his wife and his step-son made it their home when living in the capital.

  In consequence, de Quesnoy had few interruptions and he spent many hours up in a room at the top of the house, of which he had been given the key, reading and making extracts from the great pile of police reports on Mateo Morral and subversive pamphlets, etc., that had been seized during raids on Nakens’ publishing office and the premises of other anarchists suspected of being associated therewith.

  Morral, it transpired, was the son of a wealthy cotton spinner who had given him an excellent education, which included sending him for some years to study in Germany. But he was of a morose and brooding disposition and had soon adopted revolutionary views. For a long time past Barcelona had been the centre of an increasingly strong demand for Home Rule for Catalonia, and on Morral’s return to his native province he had fervently embraced this movement to break away from the central government. The movement contained many anarchists and Morral became one of them.

  At that time the most prominent anarchist in Barcelona was a man named Francisco Ferrer. He had been born at Alélla, a little place some twelve miles outside the city, and was now in his middle forties. As a young man Ferrer had attached himself to Ruiz Zorrilla, the Republican leader of the days of Isabella II and the Revolutionary period that followed her downfall. After Zorrilla had been sent into exile he settled at Geneva and Ferrer joined him there, later acting as his intermediary with revolutionaries in Spain who had gone into hiding.

  In 1885 Ferrer’s treasonable activities were discovered, but he had been warned in time and escaped to Paris, where his wife and children joined him. There for a number of years he earned a precarious living as a teacher of languages. Being a very highly-sexed man and an enthusiastic advocate of the anarchist doctrine of Free Love, his home life was not a happy one, and on one occasion his wife had tried to shoot him. However, there was evidently something about him that made a special appeal to women, as he never lacked for mistresses, and a lady named Mlle. Meunier, who possessed considerable wealth, had become a disciple of his.

  Mlle. Meunier was particularly enthusiastic about a scheme he had evolved to bring about revolution by educating promising young students to become atheists and anarchists, and to enable him to proceed with it she left him a valuable block of house property in Paris. A Liberal government in Spain having quashed prosecutions pending against Ferrer and a number of other agitators in exile he had, in 1901, returned to Barcelona and, with Mlle. Meunier’s money, opened an establishment which he named the Escuela Moderna.

  Ferrer staffed his school with fellow anarchists, both male and female, then added to it a considerable library and an ‘educational’ publishing business. The library consisted of Rationalist, Positivist, Revolutionary and Communist books and pamphlets of all kinds, and most of the many accounts of anarchist activities which, for the past twenty years, had met with a ready sale in most European countries. The publishing side produced translations of works by French, German and British sociologists of advanced or revolutionary views, and distributed them to booksellers throughout Spain.

  The Church, and numerous other respectable bodies in Barcelona, had protested in the strongest possible terms at young people in their midst being openly led to deny God and become enemies of the State. But such was the strength of the Liberal insistence on maintaining freedom of speech that their protests had been rejected by the authorities, and for the past five years Ferrer had continued without interference to canalise youthful enthusiasm into revolutionary channels and to disseminate literature calculated to inflame the discontented.

  Morral had naturally become an intimate of Ferrer and after a time Ferrer had made him the librarian at the Escuela Moderna where one of the women teachers was a Señorita Soledad Villafranca, who was said to be very attractive. She had become one of Ferrer’s mistresses and at the same time the mistress of Morral. One theory was that the two men had quarrelled over her and that this had led Morral to plan his attack on the King and Queen to show his mistress what a fine fellow he was. Another theory was that Ferrer had used the Señorita Villafranca to influence Morral into making his attempt, although there was no evidence of this.

  In addition to these particulars about Morral and Ferrer the dossier contained brief biographies of Ferrer’s teaching staff which showed that, although no criminal act could be imputed to any of them, they all openly proclaimed their allegiance to anarchist principles, and that, at one time or another, most of them had been mixed up with Communists, Collectivists, and other types of advanced Socialists whose object was to bring about a dictatorship of the proletariat.

  From the seized pamphlets de Quesnoy gathered that the object of the anarchists was not only to overthrow the existing governments in every country, but also to abolish rule by law. That explained to him a point about their activities which had at times puzzled him. Although since the early ‘eighties there had been many attempts to assassinate Monarchs and Presidents, there had been many more against Public Prosecutors and Judges; and it now emerged that whenever an anarchist was caught after an outrage and condemned to death or a long prison sentence, his confederates invariably did their utmost to avenge themselves upon the lawyers who had helped to convict or sentence him.

  Ever since de Quesnoy had been a boy, there had also been an increasing number of outrages in connection with labour disturbances, particularly in the mining districts of France and Belgium. Pits had been flooded and hoisting gear and the houses of pit-owners blown up; on many occasions troops had had to be called in and ordered to fire on the mobs before such riots could be quelled. T
he anarchists took the credit for these dynamitings, but the strikes were clearly Communist-inspired; so the Count naturally assumed, as did most other people of his class, that Marxists, Anarchists, Communists, Syndicalists and Nihilists were more or less interchangeable terms for the same type of people, and that although they might differ slightly in their doctrines their common object was to bring about a Socialist world.

  Of one thing there seemed no doubt whatever. As far as Spain was concerned Francisco Ferrer was the root of the trouble. He might never have thrown a bomb himself, or even have assisted in planning any act of violence; but it was inescapable that by corrupting the minds of others he was morally responsible for the deaths of scores of innocent people and, most probably, among them Angela’s.

  De Quesnoy therefore decided that his only real hope of succeeding in his mission lay in putting Ferrer out of the way; and he made up his mind that he would leave nothing untried which might get him the evidence to send the anarchist to the hangman’s rope.

  By the end of the week he had finished with the dossier and arranged with de Vendôme to return it to the King.

  On the Saturday, de Cordoba and the Condesa Gulia arrived to spend the weekend, and both were delighted to find him much more like his old self. That evening there was a dinner-party—the first he had attended since his wife’s death—at which he talked with an animation and cheerfulness which showed that he was at last free from his gloomy preoccupation with her loss. On the Saturday, after attending Mass, they all went for a ride through the woods and in the afternoon had a jolly picnic beside the river. It was soon after their return, and before going up to change for dinner, that, while strolling in the garden, he came upon Gulia sitting on a stone seat alone.

  In the warm light of the summer evening her burnished Titian hair, worn Madonna fashion, caught the light in its side curls, her darker, arched eyebrows and slumbrous black eyes made a striking contrast to her magnolia petal skin. Her full, rich red lips parted, showing small, even, flashing white teeth as she smiled a welcome to him. Yet after one swift glance at his eyes here feminine instinct told her that he was regarding her only with the detached interest that he would have bestowed on a fine marble statue.