The son of a modest painter of the same name, Mariano Salvador Maella was born in Valencia in 1739, although he moved to Madrid with his family while still a child. There, his father placed him In the workshop of sculptor Felipe de Castro. At Castro’s suggestion, he entered the Real Academia de San Fernando in 1752, receiving painting prizes that bear witness to both his quality and his style’s compatibility with the ideals defended by that institution under the direction of Antonio González Velázquez. By 1759, Maella was 20 years old and living in Cádiz (almost certainly with his family, and possibly with the idea of travelling to America to make his fortune). That year, he moved to Rome, alone and at his own expense, as the institution had not seen fit to assign him a study grant. From there, however, he requested an extraordinary grant from the Academia de San Fernando to complete his education in Rome where, by the mid-eighteenth century, the influence of Corrado Giaquinto and the late Rococo were gradually giving way to emerging neoclassical ideals. His Academy stipend of 4 reales a month was sufficient, as he also enjoyed the patronage of José Torrubia, an author and scientist of the Franciscan Order. Following Torrubia’s death, Maella received a decisive grant of 400 ducats from the Academia de San Fernando, which was, in fact, equivalent to official study grants.

An interesting sketchbook from Maella’s time in Rome, now at the Museo del Prado, contains a notable group of copies that reveal the young artist’s interest in precisely registering a variety of classical sculptures and paintings, as well as details of figures from churches and palaces by Renaissance or seventeenthcentury Roman classicist artists.

After returning to Spain in 1764, he was appointed a member of the Academia de San Fernando, but the turning point in his career came with his appointment as court painter, under the direction of Anton Raphael Mengs. This led to numerous decorative projects for the Royal Palace, as well as other royal commissions, including ideas for cartoons at the Royal Tapestry Factory and a major part of the monumental group of frescoes for the cloister at Toledo Cathedral. He combined his career at court with activity at the Academia de San Fernando, where he was appointed Assistant Director of Painting in 1782, Director of Painting in 1794, and General Director of that institution in 1795, following Francisco Bayeu’s death.

Maella finally became First Painter to the King in 1799 — at the same time as Francisco de Goya, who had served him since 1785. He had also served the monarch in other ways, drawing up inventories of the royal collection and directing a team of painters employed as restorers to maintain the king’s important collection of paintings in proper condition. Moreover, from the very beginning, Maella played an important role as a painter of portraits of the king and other court personalites. There, his brilliant and colourful technique and his idea of perfection closely reflect Mengs’s models.

With the new century, Maella began to lose the support of his patrons, of influential public figures such as Godoy, who was more interested in Goya, and even of the monarchs. He had accepted decorations and prizes from King Joseph Bonaparte, and lacking the support of important political figures, as was the case with Goya, he was subjected to “purification” as a public servant when Ferdinand VII returned, although he received a lifetime pension “by way of alms.” Maella died in 1819.

Along with Francisco Bayeu, Maella was unquestionably one of the most significant and influential artists employed by the court during the second half of the eighteenth century, and he held the highest posts there. His paintings combine Neoclassicism’s rationally ordered compositions with the movement and brilliant colours associated with the late Baroque and Rococo, deeply rooted in the work of Corrado Giaquinto. His technical ease reveals his Valencian origins, with free, loose and delicate brushstrokes that distinguish him from his contemporaries, especially in his altarpiece paintings and sketches. His large-format works, particularly his large decorative frescoes at the collegiate church of La Granja (1772), the chapel in El Pardo (1778), the cloisters of Toledo Cathedral (1775-1776), and the Casita del Príncipe at El Pardo (1789), follow the guidelines set out by Mengs, including numerous figures with classical grace and delicacy, exquisite detail (for example in their hands and in the subtle movement of their heads) and the enveloping beauty of the folds of their clothing.

Manuela Mena

He was the seventh child of the future King Charles III of Spain, then Charles VII of Naples, and his wife Maria Amalia of Saxony. The first five children had all been girls. The sixth, Felipe, was born with a disability and judged unfit to reign. Don Carlos was thus recognised as the heir apparent. His parents had another two girls, who both died shortly after birth, and four more boys: Fernando, the future king of Naples; Gabriel; Antonio Pascual; and Francisco Javier.

Despite a somewhat careless education, he soon displayed three main interests: music (he was the great patron of Boccherini in Madrid), the mechanical arts and, especially, hunting. He also showed great sensitivity to the visual arts, and was to Goya as King Philip IV had been to Velázquez.

When Ferdinand VI died without issue in 1759, his brother was proclaimed King of Spain as Charles III. Leaving the crown of Naples to his son Fernando (Ferdinand) under the regency of Tanucci, the new king arrived in Madrid in December 1759, where the parliament swore loyalty to the Crown Prince as heir apparent. In 1762, the marriage was arranged between the prince and his cousin, Maria Luisa of Parma, the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Parma. The actual wedding did not take place until September 1765 at San Ildefonso. The couple were undoubtedly very close until the end. They had twelve children, those who survived being the successor Fernando, the Infantes Carlos and Francisco de Paula, and the Infantas Carlota Joaquina, María Amalia, María Luisa and Isabel.

The beginning of Charles IV’s reign coincided with the meeting in France of the Estates-General and the start of the Revolution. From that moment, his main concern was to save his cousin, Louis XVI, who designated him head of the House of Bourbon and placed himself in his hands. His policy towards the revolutionary process led him to replace first Floridablanca and then Aranda. Godoy then became the first secretary of State and of the Bureau, and set about attempting to save Louis XVI. When Louis was condemned to death and beheaded, Godoy unhesitatingly joined the European First Coalition with the king’s assent.

War was declared by the French Conventionalists, and the first phase of hostilities ended favourably for the Spanish. From 1794, however, the French reacted effectively, and there were invasions of Spanish territory at both ends of the Pyrenees, in Rosas and Guipúzcoa. Peace was therefore sought and concluded with the Treaty of Basel of 1795. The agreement was well received and earned Godoy the title of ‘Prince of Peace’, but Spain was now out of the Coalition and more directly affected than ever by the traditional hostility of England. In 1796, Godoy opted to return to the policy of Pactes de Famille, although there was no longer a family. The Treaty of San Ildefonso (1796) defined Spain’s international horizon from that moment on, and when Spain fell to Bonaparte, it became effectively subordinated to the interests of France.

The ambassadors from the French Convention brought all the anti-monarchical prejudices fed by the Revolution, while at the opposite extreme were the English diplomats, who became spreaders of vicious gossip. This gave rise to the first rumours about a supposed relationship between the queen and the favourite, idle talk that was to determine all subsequent historiography. Nevertheless, a study of the correspondence exchanged between queen and favourite shows respectful deference on the part of Godoy and affection with maternal overtones on the part of the queen, who was twice Godoy’s age and worn out by pregnancies. As the ultimate judge on matters of general policy, there are always references to a king who was less inept than has been thought. The royal couple shared an absolute faith in their favourite’s abilities.

Charles IV never forgot his identification with the interests of the Royal House of France and the possibility of a restoration through the figure of the Count of Provence, the future Louis XVIII. In 1798, when the Directory discovered this diplomatic duplicity, it demanded that Charles IV remove Godoy, who was replaced by Saavedra and Jovellanos, and later by Urquijo. The rise to power of Bonaparte, however, brought changes that allowed Charles IV to recall Godoy.

The first commitment with France was the war against Portugal, England’s political platform on the continent. Godoy neutralised Portuguese resistance in the War of the Oranges, preventing the entry of French troops while at the same time saving the Braganza monarchy in accordance with Charles IV’s criterion of dynastic loyalty. The Treaty of Badajoz of 1801 merely redrew the border, incorporating the fortified town of Olivenza to Spain. This peace was not well received by Napoleon, who felt he had been tricked.

Fernando (Ferdinand), the Prince of Asturias, who was dominated by the nefarious influence of Canon Escóiquiz, his mentor and an enemy of Godoy, was married in 1802 to Princess Maria Antonia of Naples. The princely court then became a hive of intrigue against Godoy in favour of British diplomatic interests. When the princess died, Escóiquiz changed tactics. Napoleon had been proclaimed emperor in 1804, and Fernando now contacted him to request the hand of a French princess, a manoeuvre directed against his parents and Godoy.

After the discovery of what came to be known as the “El Escorial conspiracy”, which ended with the king pardoning his son, Godoy understood what was to be expected of the future Ferdinand VII. He therefore subsumed his policy to that of the French emperor as the sole guarantee of protection in the future. Godoy fell into the trap of the Treaty of Fontainebleau, which resumed the offensive against Portugal in a bid to throw the English off the continent. The treaty included a division of Portugal, but Napoleon was really thinking of restructuring the Iberian Peninsula in France’s favour. When he realised that Napoleon was trying to turn the “armed collaboration” into what was effectively an occupation, Godoy decided to follow the example of the Portuguese royal family, which had fled to Brazil. The Spanish royal family went to Aranjuez, which was to be the first stop on their journey to Andalusia to take ship in Seville for New Spain. However, it was then that the supporters of the Prince of Asturias provoked the Aranjuez Mutiny of 1808, which toppled the favourite and forced Charles IV to abdicate in favour of his son, who immediately placed himself under the protection of the French emperor. Napoleon presented himself as arbitrator, though with the real intention of annexing the kingdom, and he summoned all the members of the royal family to Bayonne. There he obliged Ferdinand VII to return the crown to Charles IV, who was induced in turn to abdicate in his favour.

Charles and Maria Luisa, the “parent monarchs”, were imprisoned with Godoy in Fontainebleau, where they remained secluded until the fall of Bonaparte. They subsequently took up residence in Rome, and at the end of the war recognised Ferdinand VII as king of Spain. They kept Godoy under their protection, and the queen made him her heir. Maria Luisa died in Rome in 1819. Charles IV, who was in Naples visiting the king, his brother Ferdinand IV, died a few days later. Perhaps the best summary of Charles IV’s personality was given by Bonaparte: “a frank and good patriarch.”

Paloma Gómez Pastor