The last century had wrought great changes in European conditions.
“The Holy Roman Empire,” after a thirty-years' war with Protestantism,
was shattered, and the Emperor of Germany was no longer the head of
Europe. Protestant England had sternly executed Charles I., and then in
the person of James II. had swept the last of the Catholic House of
Stuart out of her kingdom. France, on the foundation laid by Richelieu,
had developed into a powerful despotism, which her King, Louis XIV.,
was making magnificent at home and feared abroad.
For Spain it had been a century of steady decline, with loss of
territory, power, and prestige. No longer great in herself, she was
regarded by her ambitious neighbor, Louis XIV., as only a make-weight
in the supremacy in Europe upon which he was determined. He had been
ravaging the enfeebled German Empire, and now a friendly fate opened a
peaceful door through which he might make Spain contribute to his
greatness.
Carlos II. died (1700) without an heir. There was a vacant throne in
Spain to which—on account of Louis' marriage, years before, with the
Spanish Princess Maria Theresa—his grandson Philip had now the most
valid claim. The other claimant, Archduke Karl, son of Leopold, Emperor
of Germany, in addition to having a less direct hereditary descent, was
unacceptable to the Spanish people, who had no desire to be ruled again
by an occupant of the Imperial throne of Germany.
So, as Louis wished it, and the Spanish people also wished it, there
was only one obstacle to his design; that was a promise made at the
time of his marriage that he would never claim that throne for himself
or his heirs. But when the Pope, after “prayerful deliberation,”
absolved him from that promise the way was clear. This grandson, just
seventeen years old, was proclaimed Philip V., King of Spain, and Louis
in the fullness of his heart exclaimed, “The Pyrenees have ceased to
exist!”
Perhaps it would have been better for the King if he had not made
that dramatic exclamation. A man who could remove mountains to make a
path for his ambitions might also drain seas! England took warning. She
had been quietly bearing his insults for a long time, and not till he
had impertinently threatened to place upon her throne the Pretender,
the exiled son of James II., had she joined the coalition against the
French King. But now she sent more armies, and a great captain to
re-enforce Prince Eugene, who was fighting this battle for the Archduke
Karl and for Europe.
But Louis had reached the summit. He was to go no higher than he had
climbed when he uttered that vain boast. Philip V. was acknowledged
King in 1702, and in 1704 Blenheim had been fought and won by
Marlborough, and the decline of the Grand Monarque had
commenced.
The war against him by a combined Europe now became the war of the
“Spanish Succession.” England and Holland united with Emperor Leopold
to curb his limitless ambition. The purpose of the war of the “Spanish
Succession” was, ostensibly, to place the Austrian Archduke upon the
throne of Spain; its real purpose was to check the alarming ascendancy
of Louis XIV. in Europe.
It lasted for years, the poor young King and Queen being driven from
one city to another, while the Austrian Archduke was at Madrid striving
to reign over a people who would not recognize him.
Spain was being made the sport of three nations in pursuance of
their own ambitious ends. Her land was being ravaged by foreign armies,
recruited from three of her own disaffected provinces; while a young
King with whom she was well satisfied was peremptorily ordered to make
way for one Austria, England, and Holland preferred. It was a
humiliating proof of the decline in national spirit, and the old
Castilian pride must have sorely degenerated for such things to be
possible.
Finally, after Louis XIV. had once more given solemn oath that the
crowns of France and Spain should never be united, the “Peace of
Utrecht” was signed (1713). But the provisions of the treaty were
momentous for Spain. She was at one stroke of the pen stripped of half
her possessions in Europe. Philip V. was acknowledged King of Spain and
the Indies. But Sicily, with its regal title, was ceded to the Duke of
Savoy; Milan, Naples, Sardinia, and the Netherlands went to Karl, now
Emperor Charles VI. of Germany; while Minorca and Gibraltar passed to
the keeping of England.
No one felt unmixed satisfaction, except perhaps England. The
Archduke had failed to get his throne, and to wear the double crown
like Charles V. Louis had carried his point. He had succeeded in
keeping the kingdom for his grandson. But that kingdom was dismembered,
and had shrunk to insignificant proportions in Europe, while England,
most fortunate of all, had carried off the key to the Mediterranean.
That little rocky promontory of Gibraltar was potentially of more value
than all the rest!
Such was the beginning of the dynasty of the Bourbon in Spain.
Philip was succeeded, upon his death in 1746, by his son Ferdinand VI.,
who also died, in 1759, and was succeeded by his brother, Philip's
second son, who was known as Carlos III. When we try to praise these
princes of the wretched Bourbon line, it is by mention of the evil they
have refrained from doing rather than the good they have done. So
Carlos III. is said to have done less harm to Spain than his
predecessors. He established libraries and academies of science and of
arts, and ruled like a kind-hearted gentleman, without the vices of his
recent predecessors. His severity toward the Jesuits and their forcible
expulsion from Spain, in 1767, are said to have been caused by personal
resentment on account of some slanderous rumors regarding his birth,
which were traced to them.