[12] “Memorias de un Setenton, Mesoneros Romanos.” It is said that Ferdinand showed more grief at this bereavement than ever he had before, and, robbed of the one person whose advice was always good and disinterested, he was soon utterly ruled by his favourites of the _camarilla_, who wove intrigues to the ruin of the country. Obedient to the wishes of the State, that there should be a direct heir to the crown, the King soon wedded Maria Josefa Amalia, Princess of Saxony, a young girl of sixteen, just out of the convent where she was educated; and it was soon seen that she had little or no influence on the character and actions of her husband, for, although the verses from her pen show that she was very intelligent, she was never known, during the eight years of her married life, to express any opinion on public affairs, and she occupied herself entirely in making garments for the poor. With the extreme piety of her disposition, which had been fostered in the convent, Maria Amalia never frequented balls or theatres, and her drive in the Pardo was the only pleasure she allowed herself. Studious by nature, the Queen soon mastered the language of her new country, but study was not the accomplishment by which she could gain ascendancy over a man like Ferdinand. [Illustration: MARIA JOSEFA AMALIA, THIRD WIFE OF FERDINAND VII.] The change from the society of the eager, intelligent Isabel to that of the cold, formal Maria Amalia was great, and, as the phlegmatic Queen never sought her husband’s confidence, it was now entirely monopolized by his self-interested _camarilla_, who flattered and fawned upon the King, and encouraged him in courses which gradually robbed him of all the respect of his subjects. The King’s promises to support the Constitution were recklessly broken, and despair at the decay of all hopes of a good monarchical government led, in 1820, to such a systematic proclamation of the Constitution in Corunna, Vigo, and many garrisons of Spain, that the country became in a state of revolt. Then the courtiers became alarmed, and the King himself could not hide his anxiety at seeing the affection of his subjects slipping from him. The day came when the palace was surrounded by a discontented mob. The Queen sat silently in a corner of her room engaged in prayer, whilst Chamorro tried to drown his master’s fears in ribald laughter. Ferdinand paced the apartment deep in thought, and the silence which met his companion’s ill-placed mirth showed it was unwelcome to the monarch. At last the King’s good genius conquered, and, putting aside the courtiers who sought to stifle every good impulse, he sent for better councillors, and by their advice he strove to avert the threatened blow by signing a document in which he promised to act in conformity with his brother Don Carlos and the Junta, of which he was President.