In Guards We Trust
***
On a fine morning in May 1793 the king was alone in the Chamber of Knights. He was reading, and re-reading a graphic account of Louie’s demise. So engrossed was he in the manuscript that he failed to notice a Spanish warship which had entered Monte Vista harbour at dawn. The palace boasted superb views of the harbour from most of its chambers and seldom did a vessel arrive or leave without it being spotted by the king as he went about his daily routines. It was some time after the warship had docked that it first caught the king’s attention. But the sheer horror and the humiliation of the ordeal inflicted upon a fellow monarch was such that it caused the king to think of little else for several hours. He continually imagined himself undergoing the same torment, in vivid detail. He pictured himself being dragged in chains before jeering peasants on a short journey to the guillotine where a masked executioner awaited him. It made him feel ill. Worse still, he realised that the countless nightmares he had endured since Louis’ execution were likely to become increasingly vivid in the nights to follow. He decided that his earlier decision to remain on the throne in Monte Vista, come what may, might require reconsideration.
He ordered the royal usher to summon duke Le Riche. The usher returned later, announcing that the Spanish ambassador had arrived at court and that the latter sought an urgent audience. He added that the duke was also in the waiting room.
‘Send them both in!’ The duke also served as the king’s foreign minister and his inclusion in meetings with ambassadors was a common.
‘Announcing his Excellency, the ambassador of Spain: Count Aurelio Da Gama.’ The announcement by the usher was followed by another: ‘Announcing his grace, Duke Le Riche of Monte Vista.’
‘Gentlemen, please join me in the lounge’.
Once everyone was seated the king opened the discussion in the customary fashion.
‘Your Excellency, to what do I owe the immense pleasure of your presence?’ The Spanish ambassador had held his post for twenty-two years and the king had come to consider him a good friend.
‘As usual, your majesty is too gracious.’ Count Da Gama’s reply was standard. The prolonged hesitation which followed the reply was not.
The king was unused to seeing such a glum expression on the face of his normally jovial friend.
‘Unfortunately, majesty, this is a sad time for all of us in Europe.’ Although his introduction went without saying, the Count was not known for leaving anything unsaid. ‘The consequences of King Louis’ death will rebound across Europe for a long time to come.’
The king and the duke nodded in polite agreement while they waited for the ambassador to make his point. They did not have long to wait.
‘It is my sad duty to inform your majesty that following the declaration of the French Republic, my government has seen it fit to order my immediate return to Spain. It is not intended to replace me.’
‘I don’t understand,’ king exclaimed. He took a moment to compose himself, before continuing. ‘Your excellency this is a blow which is as far-reaching as it is unwelcome.’
‘Forgive me, your majesty, but with France now a republic, it is unlikely to be long before it proclaims that no monarchy can be accepted on French territory. My government is certain that France is likely to demand both your abdication and the return of Montuga to French rule.’
‘I cannot deny the existence of such a possibility,’ the king lamented. ‘But it is for this reason that I cherished the hope that Spain would retain its diplomatic links with Montuga. Spain has previously threatened to go to war against France at times when France failed to honour the letter or the spirit of the treaty of Montuga. Your recall sends the opposite indication to France – which is that nothing stands in the way of a French invasion.’
‘I am proud that my country has in the past used its influence to protect your majesty’s kingdom against French intervention. Unfortunately, the latest events in Europe have changed matters considerably. The Spanish monarchy fears that the French revolution will spill over into Spain. The curse of republicanism has most unfortunately not bypassed Spain. If France were to invade Spain, we fear that Spanish republicans in the north of our country may rise to join such an invasion. It is for this reason that Spain wishes not to do anything which might antagonise France. We are aware that France is not impressed by Spain’s diplomatic links with Montuga whilst it has none with France. We can only have diplomatic links with Montuga once we have normalised relations with France and then only if France elects to recognise the validity of its treaty with Montuga.’ The ambassador’s face donned a forlorn expression. ‘Your majesty, I feel compelled to point out that I speak wearing my ambassador’s hat. My own feelings about Montuga, your majesty and your wonderful family are of course well-known to one as perceptive as yourself. If it were up to me….’ The ambassador threw up his hands in exasperation. The gravity with which the ambassador regarded the matter was emphasised all the more by his failure to end his sentence. Worse still, for the first time in all the many years since the king had first met the ambassador, Count Da Gama appeared to be at a loss for words.
‘Whilst I am deeply saddened by this news, your Excellency, I of course also accept that Spain must adopt a foreign policy which accords with its own perceived interests. This is true of all kingdoms. Nonetheless, we remain indebted for the support we have received from Spain in the past. I am also extremely grateful for the personal friendship you and I have shared over the past twenty-two years. I shall miss our meetings. I will treasure your memory and I trust that circumstances will permit your swift return to your rightful place as your country’s ambassador to my kingdom.’
‘Nothing would please me more, your majesty.’ With that, the ambassador politely requested to be excused. He mentioned that the Spanish warship which had come to collect him had orders to depart as soon as possible.
‘I wonder if any other countries which have diplomatic ties with us will withdraw their ambassadors?’ the King enquired dejectedly as he considered the sullen expression on the duke’s face.
‘Your majesty, I doubt that any other countries will follow suit. Prussia and Austria are still at war with France. Their ambassadors will surely remain. Russia is too far away to be significantly affected. And Britain, as always, remains indifferent to any concerns raised by France.’
‘I hope you are correct,’ the king said. ‘By the way, what have you to report about the contingency plans to evacuate the prince and princess?’
‘I have someone in mind who I would like you to meet your majesty. I believe he is perfect for the assignment.’ The duke hesitated momentarily before adopting a cautious tone. ‘It remains important for me to know whether your majesty has reconsidered your decision to remain in Montuga. Especially in the light of what happened to King Louis?’
‘After hearing about how they treated Louis I realise that I do not wish to suffer similar humiliation for the entertainment of the masses. And yet, I have no choice but to stay and fight to the end. I will simply have to ensure that I save the last two musket balls for myself.’
The duke’s disappointment at the king’s decision was conveyed by his silence. The king changed the subject.
‘What is the situation with the pro-democracy demonstrations in Montuga? I thought that the declaration of the French republic would have spurred them on. Instead they have been disconcertingly quiet,’ he observed.
‘Your majesty, the brutality of the republicans in France continues to divide opinions amongst local republicans. Many constitutionalists are also wary of pressing ahead with reforms in case their efforts are also hijacked by republicans as was the case in France. Like us, they also all await a decision about Montuga by the republican government in Paris.’
As they spoke, they noticed the ambassador’s carriage leaving the palace grounds at high speed. Down in the harbour below, the crew of the Spanish warship had already lowered some of her sails in preparation for their departure.
‘Has your grace noticed the Spanish warship’s almost undignified rush to cast off? It seems most unusual? It gives one pause to wonder whether the Spanish could have received word that French warships are expected to arrive in Monte Vista shortly?’
‘I agree it is a little strange. The Spanish seldom rush anything. On the other hand, your majesty, I am certain that if Count Da Gama was privy to any information about a threat to Montuga, he would have disclosed it to us even in the face of orders not to do so.’
‘I believe you are right. On another matter - it occurs to me, your grace that now that we can no longer look to Spain for assistance, it may be that the next obvious choice would be the English.’
‘I assume that your majesty would only contemplate such a drastic step in the event of France revoking the treaty of Montuga.’
‘Naturally.’
‘No harm could come from discussion, majesty. However, I fear that the British are in a league of their own when it comes to self-interest. They are an island nation with little understanding of mainland Europe.’
‘Montuga is effectively also an island nation. I do not think our mountain pass qualifies as a proper link to the outside world. It may transpire that the English could discover that they have more in common with us than they initially imagined.’
‘Perhaps so, majesty. At the same time it must be borne in mind that at least half of your subjects are of French origin.’
‘What of it?’
‘Your majesty, and not to put too fine a point on it, if the English were offer military assistance to Montuga in any conflict with France, many French speaking Montugans would on principle side with France rather than with England.’
‘I do not pretend that I will be able to persuade my French speaking subjects to abandon their irrational disdain for the English, your grace. But if I should choose to accept help from the English to prevent a French invasion, I would expect all my subjects to accept my decision and I would expect them to continue to pledge their loyalty to me. Anything else would be treason.’
‘Quite so, majesty. I was merely suggesting that we might first consider an alliance which might be less divisive internally.’
‘I doubt, your grace, that we will have much choice in the matter of an alliance. Most kingdoms already fear that France will export its revolution to them. An alliance with Montuga might be seen as an invitation to do so.’
‘Your majesty is indeed correct. We may find ourselves completely isolated.’