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Chapter II, Part III: French Meddlings... ¿or not?

The Prussians were not the only ones that were spying what was going on in Spain. Among the most interested ones were the French, especially Emperor Napoleon III, who had looked at Isabel II's overthrow with a mix of interest, distrust and worry, so he had sent more agents than ever in order to be the first to know (and, thus, to be able to manipulate) what was happening in Spain.


This was not the first time France had done this. In fact, this would be but the last in the interventions France had carried out in Spain in the last decades. The most notorious, recent examples were the invasion of the Hundred Thousand Sons of Saint Louis, who had invaded Spain in 1823 to end the constitutional experience started three years before by Liutenant Colonel Rafael de Riego and reestablish Fernando VII's absolutism, and their meddling in Isabel II's marriage in 1846, preventing the young queen from marrying Leopoldo de Coburgo, Fernando de Coburgo's younger brother, who was the British preferred candidate.

However, this time there was a great difference with previous French interventions. For starters, this time France was diplomatically isolated due to the many mistakes of Imperial France's foreign policy: French support for the Polish rebellion in 1863 had broken the alliance with Russia; lack of French support to Austria during the Seven Weeks War against Prussia offended the Habsburg; French defense of the Pope so that he could keep the Latium had greatly angered the previously friendly Italians, who had given them their Savoy and Nice possessions, after two popular referendums, in 1860; France was also seen from Istanbul as a vulture that encouraged the Ottoman Empire's disintegration through their help to the Egyptians (who showed their gratefulness by giving permission for the construction of the Suez Canal, which was inaugurated in 1869 by Eugenia de Montijo, the Spanish-born Empress) and the Greek, to keep all of their colonies; and, in the New World, the United States of America didn't forget neither the Imperial venture in Mexico nor the tentative support Napoleon III had given the Confederates during the American Civil War. By the year 1868, there were only two European nations that could be said to be amicable towards France: Isabel II's Spain, and Victoria I's United Kingdom.


Unfortunately, the United Kingdom maintained a policy of neutrality in most continental affairs, and they did not trust Napoleon III, after French pretensions to annex Belgium and Luxembourg were made public by Bismarck, and Spain was a great unknown factor due to the unexpected revolution of September 1868.

From his personal point of view, Napoleon was opposed to the possibility of Montpensier accessing the Spanish throne, whether it was directly or through his wife. Such accession could destabilize Napoleon III's internal power in France, as the Duke was one potential candidate to the French crown since he was the tenth son of Louis-Philippe I, whom Napoleon had overthrown in 1848, and his crowning as King of Spain could provoke the reemergence of the Orléanist movement.

Napoleon III's agents were the first, after the Portuguese, to hear about Fernando de Coburgo's possible candidacy. This was one Napoleon III supported, because he thought that, if he did it from its infancy, the resulting Iberian nation would become a French ally. However, Fernando's rejection was a setback for his plans and prospects.

The rumors of the Prussian candidacy were also heard in Paris, but these rumors only reached the City of Lights through the newspapers, as the Spanish and Prussian governments were denying even that any contacts existed. Both groups knew that France would be completely opposed to it, and that a French threat of war might set back all of Bismarck's efforts to convince Leopold and the Prussian King of the worthiness of the idea. On the Spanish side, it helped that France had treated Spain like dirt for many years, as well as Napoleon III's support of the Bourbon monarchy, either for Isabel II or for her son Alfonso, to whom the Queen was willing to transfer her dynastic rights due to the advice of the Isabeline monarchists. These circumstances meant that it was absolutely forbidden for anything about the secret negotiations to reach Paris. It was this, and the great disinformation effort done by the Prussian agents in Madrid, that undermined all French efforts to know the results of the search for the new King of Spain.


In a triumph of French diplomacy, the French ambassador in Madrid, Mercier de L'Ostende, managed to arrange a private dinner with President of the Courts Manuel Ruiz Zorrilla on June 4th. Dinner took place normally, with both politicians talking about trivial affairs, and when the ambassador thought the way was prepared, L'Ostende pounced on the matter as if he was a tiger pouncing on its prey. There are many accounts of what could have happened during that dinner, but the best one that could be determined was, perhaps, Manuel Ruiz Zorrilla's own account of the encounter in his autobiography, “From El Burgo de Osma to San Jerónimo”:

We had just reached the desserts when L'Ostende asked, as if he was speaking about the weather:

“How is President Prim? It is my supposition that the search for your new King must have been very bad for him. Am I right?”

“You are correct,” I answered, my wariness increasing. “I met him this morning, and he was still working on a great number of matters that had his complete attention.”

“Tell me, did he find an answer to this problem of yours?”

I resisted my nearly unconscious response of raising an eyebrow. I had known, from the moment L'Ostende had sent the petition for this encounter, that the meeting would be neither of pleasure nor of diplomacy, but an attempt to gain information. However, the Ambassador's audacity surprised me. Whomever had taught him the art of interrogation was clearly not versed in the art.

“There are... several candidates, and we hope that one of them will be of the liking of both the members of Congress and the Spanish population.” I slightly stressed the word Spanish, because I wanted to let L'Ostende know in a subtle way that we did not care about the French people's opinion.

“Such as...Montpensier, perhaps?” L'Ostende asked, in an apparent jovial tone.

I snorted. It was unavoidable.

“Monsieur Ambassador, believe me when I tell you that we did not expel Queen Isabel only to put her sister and brother-in-law in the throne. He is a buffoon, an idiot, and the most he will receive from Congress will be a few votes from his staunchest supporters in the Liberal Union. Of which there are very few, let me tell you.”

“Surely, there must be a candidate Presidente Prim prefers over the others. After all, you are a member of his Government, as well as a man of his greatest confidence.”

L'Ostende's audacity was slowly becoming an annoyance. In retrospect, I suppose that this was what he had been taught to do: if you want to get answers out of someone that does not want to give them, annoy them until they speak, even if it is to make you shut up.

I nearly told him about the Prussian candidate, Leopold. However, I stopped myself from doing so, thankfully remembering on time that any word of that candidacy would result in its end, death and burial: its success would mean France would be surrounded by their enemies, as history proved soon enough. Then, I remembered that Prim had sent Madoz to Italy, in order to restart negotiations with the Italians. This was being done as a fallback precisely in case the French heard about Leopold, who was the favorite candidate of, not only Prim, but most of the government. So I chose that as a way to misdirect L'Ostende.

“Yes, there... might be someone,” I said, slowly. It was a conscious attempt on my part: any apparent reluctance in stating who was Prim's favored candidate meant that L'Ostende would be more pliable to believe me.

“Who it is?”

“Well, it is someone who said no before, but we are restarting the negotiations with him, and we are hopeful that he might say yes. It's... Prince Amadeo de Savoya, the Italian prince. The President certainly likes him.”

It was not a lie: Prim had liked Amadeo, and that was the reason why Madoz had traveled to Italy. But it was not the whole truth, either: while we hoped that he may affirm his will to become King, we expected that negotiations would end very soon, when the first voting went on.

Fortunately, L'Ostende was satisfied. Conversation turned to more pleasing matters, and soon after we finished desserts he left for his home.

Little did we know that, soon, this gentle relationship would turn as bitter as hemlock.

Click to expand...

The morning after their encounter, Ambassador L'Ostende went to the nearest telegraph station and communicated to the French Government and Emperor what he had found: Montpensier had no chance. None whatsoever. No mention of the Prussians who were apparently not even being considered. The favored, and most probable candidate, was Amedeo di Savoia, the Italian Prince.