The first act of Ferdinand VII. evinced either his delusion with respect to the designs of Buonaparte, or his fear of offending him; it was to dispatch instructions that Solano’s troops, which were on their march to Talavera, should remain under Junot’s orders; and that the French, who were approaching Madrid, should be received as friends and allies. The new King reappointed the five Secretaries of State, whose offices terminated with the former reign. D. Pedro Cevallos, who was one, sent in his resignation; perhaps he wished to withdraw as much as possible from increasing difficulties and dangers, against which there appeared no remedy; and he was conscious that some degree of unpopularity attached to him because of his connexion with Godoy. Ferdinand, however, by a public decree, refused to accept his resignation: it had been proved to him, he said, that though Cevallos had married a cousin of the Prince of the Peace, he never participated in the projects of which that man was accused; and he was therefore a servant of whom the King would not deprive himself. It was affirmed by the Prince and his friends that Godoy had actually aspired to the throne; an accusation too absurd for any but the vulgarest credulity of an inflamed people. This wretched minion now felt that there are times when despotism itself proves even-handed as justice. He was sent prisoner to the Castle of Villa Viciosa: with that measure wherewith he had dealt to others, it was now meted to him; a judicial inquiry into his conduct was ordered, ♦Godoy’s property confiscated without a trial.♦ and before any trial, ... before any inquiry, the whole of his property was confiscated. Processes were also instituted against his brother, and many of his creatures. The decree which announced this declared Ferdinand’s intention of speedily coming to the capital to be proclaimed; expressing however his wish that the inhabitants would previously give him proofs of their tranquillity, since he had communicated to them his efficient edict against the late favourite. By the same proclamation the Duque del Infantado, a nobleman of the highest character, was appointed to the command of the Royal Spanish Guards, and to the presidency of Castille. All those persons who were confined in consequence of the affair which happened at the Escurial (thus the conspiracy was spoken of) were recalled near his royal person. D. Miguel Jose de Azanza, a man of high character, who had held the important office of viceroy of Mexico, was made minister of finance; D. Gonzalo de O’Farril, who had recently returned from a military command in Tuscany, was first appointed director general of the artillery, and presently afterwards minister of war. The Marquis Caballero was retained in the council; and, true to the maxims and spirit of the vile system which he had so long supported, he contrived to give a character of ungraciousness to the best act of the new government. Next to the punishment of Godoy, what all men most desired was the release of Jovellanos; an order was immediately issued for this, but it passed through Caballero’s hand, and he, instead of wording it in those honourable terms which were designed by the new King, expected by the people, and required by the case, expressed the royal pleasure as if it were an act of grace conferred upon a pardoned criminal, not an act of justice to an irreproachable and injured man. The new government suspended the sale of certain church property, upon which the fallen minister had ventured in the plenitude of his power; and they issued an edict for destroying wolves, foxes, and other animals, which had been preserved about the royal residences to gratify Charles’s passion for the chase. These measures were intended to court popular favour, and to cast a reproach upon the late reign. Some vexatious imposts were taken off; and a part of the police establishment of Madrid, which had been peculiarly odious, was abolished. The people regarded these acts as unequivocal proofs of the new Monarch’s excellent intentions; and the accession of Ferdinand was considered by those who were ignorant of the difficulties by which he was beset, and of the perilous circumstances of the country, as the commencement of a Saturnian age, and as the point of time from which the regeneration of Spain would be dated.

Meantime Joachim Murat, brother-in-law of Buonaparte and Grand Duke of Berg and Cleves, had arrived in Spain to take the command of all the French forces in that country. As soon as his arrival was known, Charles and Godoy dispatched an officer of artillery, by name Velarde, to congratulate him, on the part of the King, and to take care that nothing was wanting for the subsistence and accommodation of his troops. Murat reached Aranda, on the Duero, on the 17th, the day when the first disturbances broke out at Aranjuez; and there he desired Velarde would write to the court and inform them that his instructions were to march rapidly towards Cadiz; but that he should perhaps take it upon himself to stop some days at Madrid, though he had no orders to that effect: he should not, however, proceed farther than St. Augustine’s without having determined with the Spanish government the number of troops which were to enter the capital, and the time and the manner, so that they might be no charge to the inhabitants. He added, that he was in momentary expectation of dispatches from his master; that he should very soon be able to inform the Spanish nation what were the Emperor’s views; that he could now positively announce his intention of going to Madrid, and that probably in the course of eight days he would have crossed the Pyrenees. Velarde’s letter, which communicated this intelligence, was addressed to the Prince of the Peace; but it was received by the new ministers, and it increased their perplexities and alarms.

They informed the people however by a proclamation, that their King had notified the happy event of his accession to the French Emperor, and assured him, that far from changing the political system of his father toward France, he would endeavour to draw closer the bonds of friendship and strict alliance, which so fortunately subsisted between the French Emperor and Spain. This communication, it was said, was made in order that the council of Madrid might act conformably to the King’s sentiments, by taking measures for restoring tranquillity in the metropolis, as well as for receiving the French troops who were about to enter that city, and for administering to them every requisite assistance. They were to endeavour also to convince the people that these troops were coming as friends, and for purposes advantageous to the King and to the nation. The very fact that it was thought necessary to tell the people this, shows that they were not so besotted as to believe it. These were strange times, when a Spanish King informed the people of his measures, and, as it were, appealed to popular opinion; ... but stranger events were at hand.

All the foreign ministers congratulated Ferdinand upon his accession, except Beauharnois, from whom, after the part which he had taken concerning the expected marriage and throughout the affair of the Escurial, congratulation might first have been expected; he withheld this act of recognition, because he had not been furnished with the necessary instructions. ♦The French enter Madrid.♦ Murat was now advancing toward Madrid, and the general anxiety was heightened by the more unexpected intelligence that Buonaparte himself, he who made and unmade princes with a breath, was on the way to Bayonne. He supposed that the royal family were at this time on the coast and on the point of embarkation, and that the people, in their fear of anarchy, would receive the French commander with open arms as their deliverer. The occurrences at Aranjuez were altogether unexpected; and as soon as he was informed of them, Murat accelerated his march. The approach of such an army, the silence of the French Ambassador, the mysteriousness of Buonaparte, and his journey to Spain, perplexed and alarmed Ferdinand. He had communicated his accession to this Emperor in the most friendly and affectionate terms; ... fear could suggest no other. Lest this should be deemed insufficient, he appointed a deputation of three grandees to proceed to Bayonne, and compliment him in his name; and another grandee was sent, in like manner, to compliment Murat, who had already reached the vicinity of Madrid. This worthy agent was fully in his master’s confidence; he assured Ferdinand that Buonaparte might be every moment expected; and he spoke publicly of his coming. Orders were therefore given for preparing apartments in the palace suitable for such a guest; and the King, whose fears made him restless, wrote again to Buonaparte, saying how much he desired to become personally acquainted with him, and to assure him, with his own lips, of his ardent wishes to strengthen more and more the alliance which subsisted between them. ♦Mar. 23.♦ Murat, evidently for the purpose of displaying his forces, reviewed them before the walls; then made his entrance into Madrid, preceded by the imperial horse-guards, and by his staff, and followed by all the cavalry, and by the first division of foot under General Mounier; two other divisions were encamped without the city, and a detachment proceeded to take possession of Toledo. Ferdinand made his public entry on horseback the following ♦Mar. 24.♦ day, amid the ringing of bells and the discharge of artillery, but with no other parade than that which, under happier circumstances, would have been the most grateful of all spectacles; ... a concourse of all the people of the capital and its vicinity, rejoicing in his presence, and testifying, by their acclamations, that they expected from him the regeneration of their country. But never did poor prince succeed to such a crown of thorns.

The conduct of the French Ambassador had shown what was to be expected from the French General. Murat declared that until the Emperor Napoleon had acknowledged Ferdinand VII. it was impossible for him to take any step which might appear like such an acknowledgment: he therefore must be under the necessity of treating with the royal family. But Murat was better acquainted than Beauharnois with his master’s designs; as if taking the deposed King and Queen under his protection, he sent a numerous body of troops to Aranjuez to guard them; and he caused it to be understood that the French would interpose in behalf of Godoy. Both these measures might have been taken with honourable designs; but when the French General, Grouchy, ♦General Grouchy made Governor of Madrid.♦ was made governor of Madrid, a sort of military government established there, and patroles instituted to preserve the peace, under the joint superintendence of a French officer and a Spaniard, sufficient indications were given of an intention to occupy the capital as the frontier fortresses had been occupied. A legitimate government which should have had no other cause of disquietude, would have been perplexed at such a crisis; but the attention of Ferdinand and his ministers was distracted by personal considerations: instead of feeling like the sovereign of a proud and ancient people, the new King was in the situation of one who had to defend a bad title, and that not by an appeal to arms, but tremblingly before a superior and a judge.

A declaration concerning the affair of the Escurial was made public on the last day of the month, for the purpose of proving that neither Escoiquiz, nor the Duque del Infantado, nor the other persons implicated in the charge of conspiracy, had been guilty of any misconduct. It was acknowledged that the Prince had in his own hand-writing commissioned Infantado to assume the command of the troops in New Castille, in case of his father’s demise, and the alleged reason was a fear lest Godoy should continue at such a time to make an improper use of his influence and power. Such a pretext was too shallow to obtain belief in any calm or considerate mind: the King’s age and state of health rendered it probable that he might live many years, and in the event of his death, no man doubted but that Godoy, who held his power only upon favouritism, must instantly become the wretch that this revolution made him. As for his aspiring to the throne himself, it is impossible that he should even for a moment have entertained so frantic a thought, and almost as impossible that they who made the charge against him should themselves have believed it.

In the deed of abdication Charles called it his own free and voluntary act, and especial care was taken by the new administration to represent it as such. He had certainly remembered the examples of Charles V. and Philip V. and a thought of imitating them had passed across his mind in moments when difficulties pressed upon him, and he was sick of the cares of government. This is certain: it is probable also that the Prince’s party might not have formed the plan of sending him into retirement unless they had known that he himself had entertained, however transiently, a wish of retiring. To talk even among themselves of deposing the King, would have had a startling sound; and have brought into the prospect scaffolds and executioners as well as places and power. But it was easy to persuade both themselves and Ferdinand that their object was so to act as to make his father carry into effect that wish and wise intention, which, without some such external motive, he would for ever want resolution to effect for himself. They may have reasoned thus, and have meant well, and have acted with a patriotic purpose; nevertheless the act itself bore marks of deposition27, not less decided than the abdication of James in England.

These circumstances tallied well with Buonaparte’s designs, and they were dexterously improved by Murat. Even before he entered Madrid, General Mouthion was dispatched to Aranjuez with a letter to the Queen of Etruria, which contained assurances to the deposed King of Buonaparte’s support. A snare was laid for the imbecile Charles, and he rushed into it. However compulsory the act of abdication might have been, it was now as much his interest as that of his family, that he should acquiesce in it. But actuated by a sense of his wrongs, and still more perhaps by the Queen, who, trembling for her paramour, hated her son with all the virulence of an adulterous mother, he committed his last and consummating folly, by appealing to the very tyrant, whose open and undisguised aggressions had driven him, not a week before, to the resolution of abandoning his throne and seeking refuge in America. He assured Mouthion that the revolution had been preconcerted and brought about by money; that his son and Caballero were the chief agents; that he had signed the act of abdication only to save the Queen’s life and his own, knowing that if he had refused they would both have been murdered in the course of the night. The conduct of the Prince of Asturias was more shocking, he added, inasmuch as having perceived his desire to reign, and being himself near threescore years of age, he had agreed to surrender the crown to him on his marriage with a French princess, an event which he, the King, ardently desired. The Prince, he added, chose that he and the Queen should retire to Badajoz, though he had remonstrated against the climate as injurious to his health, and entreated permission to choose another place, his wish being to obtain leave of the Emperor to purchase an estate where he might end his days. The Queen said she had begged her son at least to postpone their departure for Badajoz, but even this was refused, and they were to set out on the following Monday. This fact alone would evince how little the inclinations of Charles were consulted throughout these transactions. The part of Spain where Badajoz stands is notoriously unhealthy during the summer months; and to have fixed upon that place for the residence of the deposed monarch, and persisted in the choice after he had objected to it on the score of his health, implied in the new government an equal want of feeling and of sense.

Having made these complaints, Charles delivered into Mouthion’s hands a formal protest, declaring that the decree of abdication was compulsory, and therefore invalid. He charged him also with a letter for the Emperor. “Sir, my brother,” he said, “you will not without some interest behold a King, who having been forced to resign his crown, throws himself into the arms of a great monarch his ally, placing every thing at the disposal of him who alone can make his happiness and that of all his family, and of his faithful and beloved subjects. I abdicated in favour of my son only under the pressure of circumstances, when the noise of arms and the clamours of a rebellious guard made me sufficiently understand that my choice was between life and death, and that my death would have been followed by the Queen’s. ♦1808. April.♦ I have been compelled to resign; but taking hope this day, and full of confidence in the magnanimity and genius of the great man who has already shown himself my friend, I have resolved to remit myself in every thing to him, that he may dispose as he thinks good both of us and our fate, that of the Queen and of the Prince of the Peace.” Having consigned this letter to Mouthion, who may be suspected of having dictated the latter expressions, he renewed his complaints. His situation, he said, was one of the most deplorable. They had seized the Prince of the Peace and would put him to death, for no other crime than that of having been at all times attached to his sovereign. There were no solicitations which he had not made to save the life of his unhappy friend, but he found every one deaf to his prayers and bent upon vengeance; and the death of Godoy would draw after it his own, for he should not survive him.

No King ever placed his favour more unworthily than Charles, but there was a sincerity in his friendship which almost amounts to virtue, and would have done honour to a better monarch. The Queen’s attachment also, which is more easily explained, had a character of enduring passion and self-abandonment seldom to be found in one at once so vicious and so weak. From this time she wearied Murat with letters, written in the most barbarous French and most confused manner, wherein she expressed her fears and her resentments. Ferdinand, she said, was the enemy of the French, though he declared the contrary. Infantado was very wicked; the priest Escoiquiz one of the most wicked; and San Carlos, the most crafty of all, had received all that he had from the King at the solicitation of the poor Prince of the Peace, whom he called his relation. She had no other support than the Grand Duke and the Emperor, those two sacred and incomparable persons.... But the Prince of the Peace made the burthen of every letter. “Nothing interests us,” she said, “but the safe condition of our only and innocent friend the Prince of the Peace, the friend of the Grand Duke; even in his prison when he exclaimed on the horrid treatment they were giving him, he called always upon his friend the Grand Duke. Before this conspiracy he wished for his arrival, and that he would deign to accept of his house as a residence.... He had presents to make him.... We are in constant fear of their killing or poisoning him. Let the Grand Duke cause troops to go without telling why, and without giving a moment of time to fire a pistol at him separate the guard that is set over him, which has no other glory in view, no other desire but to kill him, ... that innocent friend, so devoted to the French, to the Grand Duke and the Emperor, the poor Prince of the Peace. They heap crimes on this innocent Prince, our common and only friend, to inflame the public the more, and make them believe it is right to inflict on him all possible infamy. Afterwards they will come to me; ... they will make his head be cut off in public, and afterwards mine, for they say so.... He suffers because he is a friend of the Grand Duke, of the Emperor, and of the French; the Grand Duke and the Emperor are they alone who can save him, and if he be not saved and given to us, the King my husband and I will die.” Every letter was filled with these anxious solicitations: of the throne there seemed to be neither care nor thought; with the mob at Aranjuez before her eyes, and the recollection of Marie Antoinette in her heart, this wretched woman was sick of royalty; she asked only an allowance for the King, herself, and Godoy, upon which they might live all three together, in a situation suiting their health; ... a corner wherein they might quietly finish their days; ... some place near France, to be within reach of help against the bloody hands of his enemies. Her feelings toward Ferdinand were not less strongly expressed than her attachment to Godoy. “My son,” she says, “has a very bad heart: his character is bloody; his counsellors are bloody; they take pleasure only in making wretchedness, and his heart has no feeling for father or mother. He will make his enmity to the French appear when he thinks he can see occasion.... I fear they will make some attempt against them; ... the people are gained with money. When the Grand Duke shall have placed the poor Prince of the Peace in safety, let rather strong measures be taken, for otherwise intrigues will go on increasing, above all, against the poor friend of the Grand Duke and me; and the King my husband is not secure.”

Charles’s protest and his appeal to Buonaparte were concealed from Ferdinand, and the correspondence with Murat was carried on by means of the Queen of Etruria, who having witnessed all which had passed at Aranjuez, and being therefore a competent judge how far the abdication of her father was voluntary, took part decidedly against her brother. Murat’s intention was to frighten him into the toils; an alarm that should have made him start, would have ruined the plot. The interest which this Grand Duke affected for Godoy, his refusal to acknowledge the new government, and the respect which he paid to Charles, all tended to this end. The rumour of Buonaparte’s coming was carefully spread abroad; fresh couriers were said to have arrived: ... the Emperor had left Paris, and might speedily be expected in Madrid. Packages came marked as his, his hat and his boots were shown, Murat gave minute directions concerning the Emperor’s bath, and accepted a table of twenty covers for him, and another for his suite. Preparations were made for processions to do honour to the august visitor, and for balls at the Palace of the Buen Retiro. The soldiers were told that he would lose no time in putting himself at the head of his armies in Spain; ♦April 2.♦ they were ordered to put themselves in a state to appear before him; and in this proclamation, which appeared in a Madrid gazette extraordinary, the ominous notice was given, that they would immediately be supplied with cartridge. It was hinted that it would be a delicate compliment to the Emperor, if the Infante, Don Carlos, (Ferdinand’s next brother,) would set off to receive him on the way. His Highness, Murat said, could not fail to meet him before he had proceeded two days upon his road. This was readily agreed to, and the Infante, accompanied by the Duke del Infantado, departed upon this fatal journey. ♦Ferdinand is urged to go and meet the Emperor.♦ Having secured this victim, Murat endeavoured to entice Ferdinand himself into the snare: what had at first been hinted at, and advised as a mark of attentive consideration, was now pressed upon him as a thing of importance; a measure which would be attended with the happiest consequences to himself and the kingdom. The young King hesitated; it was more than courtesy required, more than an ally was entitled to expect, and perhaps he felt that it was more than a King of Spain ought to perform. Cevallos constantly advised him not to leave his capital till he had received certain intelligence that Buonaparte had passed the Pyrenees, and was approaching Madrid; and even then he urged him to proceed so short a way, that it should not be necessary for him to sleep out of his capital more than a single night. His advice prevailed for a time against the repeated solicitations of Murat and the ambassador Beauharnois. It became necessary, therefore, to introduce a new actor in this detestable plot.

During the interval which elapsed before another agent could appear, Murat informed Cevallos that the Emperor would be gratified if the sword of Francis I. were presented to him; and he desired that this might be intimated to the new King. It might be supposed that this was designed not merely to gratify the French nation, but also to lower Ferdinand in the opinion of the Spaniards, if Buonaparte and his agents had ever taken the nobler feelings of our nature into their calculation. But it was a mere trick for the Parisians; and neither they nor the tyrant himself felt that France was far more dishonoured by the circumstances under which the sword was recovered, than by the ♦March 31.♦ manner in which it had been lost. Accordingly this trophy of Pescara’s victory, which had lain since the year 1525 in the royal armoury at Madrid, was carried in a silver basin, under a silken cloth laced and fringed with gold, to Murat’s head-quarters, in a coach and six, preceded by six running footmen, and under the charge of the superintendent of the arsenal; the grand equerry and the Duke del Parque following in a second equipage with the same state. A detachment of the guards escorted them, and the sword was presented by the Marquis of Astorga to Murat; he, it was said, having been brought up by the side of the Emperor, and in the same school, and illustrious for his military talents, was more worthy than any other person could be to be charged with so precious a deposit, and to transmit it into the hands of his Imperial Majesty. The people of Madrid passively beheld the surrender of this trophy; it was the act, however compulsory, of their lawful king, the king of their choice; the compulsion was neither avowed on the one side, nor confessed on the other; from the imputation of beholding it with indifference, they amply redeemed themselves. Murat, upon receiving it, pronounced a flattering eulogium upon the Spanish nation, ... that nation which he was in the act of plundering, and which he came to betray and to enslave.

In spite of the patroles and rounds, and military government, the suspicions of the people began to manifest themselves more and more, and their poor Prince was compelled, while he concealed his own fears, to exert his authority for suppressing theirs. ♦April 3.♦ By a new edict, it was enacted, that no liquors should be sold after eight in the evening; master-manufacturers and tradesmen were ordered to give notice to the police if any of their workmen or apprentices absented themselves from their work; fathers of families were enjoined to keep their children and domestics from mixing with seditious assemblies, and to restrain them by good example, good advice, and the fear of punishment. The King, it was said, was grieved to perceive that the imprudence or malevolence of a few individuals attempted to disturb the good understanding between the people of Madrid and the troops of his intimate and august ally; and, as this conduct arose, perhaps, from a ridiculous and groundless misapprehension of the intention of those troops who were quartered in that city, and in other parts of the kingdom, he affirmed, that his subjects ought to set aside every fear of that nature, for the intention of the French government accorded with his own; and so far from concealing any hostile prospects, or the slightest invasion, had no other object than the great measures requisite against their common enemy. If, however, any person, after this declaration, should be rash enough, either by words or actions, to aim at disturbing the friendship between the two nations, the guilty would be most rigorously punished, without remission and without delay.

In thus attempting to quiet the just alarm of the people, Ferdinand’s ministers affected a security which they were far from feeling. Murat had fixed his head-quarters in Godoy’s house, within two hundred steps of the palace; not like a visitor or the representative of a friendly power, but as the general of an army with his staff, a numerous guard, and pieces of field artillery, evidently brought there rather for use than for parade. He had ten thousand men in the city, and forty thousand surrounding it, horse and foot, in perfect discipline, and provided with every thing, as if they were the next hour to take the field. Their communication with Bayonne was kept open by thirty thousand more, all of whom, if they were needed, might within a few days arrive to support the main body of the army: there was Junot with a force estimated at thirty thousand men in Portugal, ready to co-operate; while of the Spanish army the flower had been sent under Romana to the North, some were under the French orders in Italy; the rest under their power in Portugal; there remained three thousand troops in Madrid, and a single Swiss regiment in Toledo, of which the fidelity was suspected. The privy council, rather that it might be said they had made the inquiry than for any hope of profiting by it, demanded from the minister of war, Olaguer Feliu, an account of the number of troops in Spain, and their present situation. His answer was, that neither he, nor those in his department, had been permitted to meddle with these things; Godoy was the only person who knew; but that he believed, according to the general opinion, that except the scanty garrisons in the sea-ports and at S. Roque, the few troops which remained in the Peninsula were in Portugal under Junot.

A thought of the safest course in this exigence seems to have passed across the mind of Escoiquiz, ... that Ferdinand should escape from Madrid to Algeziras, where there were more troops than in any other part of his dominions, and from whence he could always command a sure retreat to Gibraltar. But this thought was speedily dismissed; resistance was never seriously contemplated: perplexed and helpless as Ferdinand and his counsellors were, they willingly deceived themselves as to the impending danger, and there came at this time ♦Dispatches from Izquierdo.♦ dispatches from Izquierdo, the favourite’s agent at Paris, which contributed greatly to deceive them. These letters stated the result of his conferences since he returned from Aranjuez, with Duroc, the grand marshal of the imperial palace, and with Talleyrand. An arrangement, they said, between the French and Spanish governments, might arrest the course of events, and lead to a solemn and definitive treaty upon these bases: 1st, That there should be a perfect reciprocity of free commerce for French and Spaniards in their respective colonies; each granting to the other this privilege, to the exclusion of all other nations. 2ndly, Portugal being possessed by France, France necessarily required a military road to that country; and the continual passage of troops through Spain, to garrison it and defend it against England, would be a constant occasion of expense, of disputes, and unpleasant consequences, which might all be avoided, France giving the whole of Portugal to Spain, and receiving an equivalent in the Spanish provinces adjacent to her own empire. 3rdly, The succession of the throne must be regulated once for all: and, lastly, there must be an offensive and defensive alliance. Upon these grounds, the French negotiators said, an arrangement might be concluded which would terminate happily the actual crisis between France and Spain. Izquierdo remarked, in transmitting these propositions, that when the existence and honour of the state and the government were thus matter of discussion, the decision must come from the Sovereign and his council; nevertheless, that his ardent love for his country had compelled him to make some observations to Talleyrand upon each of these points. Upon the first he had observed, that to open the commerce of the Spanish Americas to France was in reality to divide them with that power; and, moreover, that unless the pride of England were effectually beaten down, such a measure would render peace more distant than ever, while till peace was made, the communications of both countries with those colonies would be cut off. He added, that even if French commerce were permitted, French subjects could not be allowed to settle there, in derogation of the fundamental laws. With regard to Portugal, he reminded Talleyrand of the secret treaty of Fontainebleau, the sacrifice of the King of Etruria, the little that Portugal was worth, if separated from its colonies, and its utter uselessness to Spain: then for the cession of the Pyrenean provinces, he had dwelt upon the horror which the loss of their laws, liberties, privileges, and language, would excite in the people, and their abhorrence at being transferred to a foreign power; adding, that as a Navarrese himself he never could sign a treaty for ceding Navarre to France, and by such an act draw upon himself the execration of his countrymen. But Izquierdo, who was but too well assured that the French government demanded in such negotiations as these nothing which it was not determined to obtain, qualified his objections by hinting, that if there were no other remedy, a new kingdom or viceroyalty of Iberia might be erected, and given to the King of Etruria, or some other Infante of Castille. In reply to the point of succession, he stated what the King had commanded him to say, and in a manner which he supposed would counteract whatever calumnies had been invented by the malignant in one country, and infected public opinion in the other: ... these expressions probably allude to Charles’s intention of withdrawing from the government, and to the reports that Godoy was seeking to set aside Ferdinand from his inheritance. Lastly, with something of a Spaniard’s feeling, he asked Talleyrand if it was expected that Spain must be put upon a footing with the states of the Confederacy of the Rhine, and obliged to furnish her contingent, covering this tribute with the decorous name of a treaty offensive and defensive? Being at peace with France, she needed not the help of France against any other enemy, as Teneriffe, and Ferrol, and Buenos Ayres, might bear witness. Izquierdo added, in his dispatch, that the marriage was a thing determined; that there would be no difficulty as to the title of Emperor, which the King was to take; that he had been asked whether the royal family were going to Andalusia, and replied according to the truth, that he knew nothing of their intentions. He had in vain solicited that the French troops should evacuate Castille, and he requested that not a moment might be lost in replying to this communication, for the least delay in concluding an arrangement might produce fatal consequences.

If these dispatches had been written for the purpose of deceiving those into whose hands they fell, they could not have been better adapted to that intent. Under Godoy the foreign minister knew as little concerning the state of foreign negotiations, as the minister at war knew of the state of the army; and when the bearer of these papers, finding the favourite in prison, delivered them to the new ministers, they thought they had now obtained an insight into the real cause of all the alarming movements of the French. Well might France think that demands so extravagant as these could only be obtained by force; and this would explain the seizure of the fortresses, and the advance of an army to Madrid. To men who had feared the whole evil which was intended, it was a relief to imagine that Buonaparte designed to take only the provinces beyond the Ebro, or perhaps only Navarre; propositions which would have roused the nation to arms, were yet so far short of the danger they apprehended, that they contemplated the required cessions with something like complacency, and flattered themselves, that by a constant friendship toward France, and the feeling which the marriage would produce between the two courts, the terms might possibly be mitigated; ... at all events, that by yielding for the present they should obtain the restitution of Barcelona and the other fortresses; and that what with the war which ere long must be renewed in the north, and the thousand chances to which the game of politics is subject, they should find opportunity when they had recovered strength, to throw off this temporary yoke.

Such were their dreams when General Savary was announced as envoy from the Emperor, and demanded audience in that capacity. Of course it was immediately granted. At this audience he professed that he was sent merely to compliment Ferdinand, and to know whether his sentiments with respect to France were conformable to those of the King his father; if it were so, the Emperor would forego all consideration of what had passed; would in no degree interfere with the interior concerns of the kingdom; and would immediately recognize him as King of Spain and of the Indies. To this the most satisfactory answer was given. It neither was, nor could have been the intention of the Prince’s party to offend France; the only hope which they had hitherto entertained of regenerating their government, had been by allying themselves with Buonaparte, and availing themselves of his power. One of the charges which were current against Godoy among the people, was that of a secret understanding with the English, and that he intended to deliver Ceuta into their hands, and fly with all his treasures under their protection. Nothing could be desired more flattering than the language of Savary during this audience; and he concluded it by asserting that the Emperor was already near Bayonne, and on his way to Madrid. No sooner, however, had this envoy left the audience-chamber, than he began, as if in his individual capacity, to execute the real object of his mission. It would be highly grateful and flattering to his Imperial Majesty, he said, if the King would meet him on the road: and he asserted repeatedly, and in the most positive terms, that his arrival might be expected every hour.

The pressing instances of Savary upon this subject, while he repeatedly and positively asserted this falsehood, were accompanied with such intermixture of flattery and intimidating hints, as might best operate upon a man like Ferdinand placed in such circumstances. Murat failed not to enforce the same assurances, the same falsehoods, and the same menaces; and the ministers therefore determined upon consenting to what they dared not refuse. The immediate fear before their eyes was that Buonaparte might espouse the cause of the father against the son, in which case the least evils to be apprehended were the renovation of the Escurial-cause, the disheritance of the Prince, and for themselves that condign punishment which in that case they would not only suffer, but be thought to have deserved. They knew how vain it was to rely upon the popular favour, even if the people of Madrid had not been under the French bayonets; it was but for Buonaparte to prevent the Queen from taking part in public business, and to remove Godoy from the government. Charles was not personally disliked, and his restoration would then be hailed with as much apparent joy as had lately been manifested for his deposal.

This resolution was made public by Ferdinand in the form of a communication to the president of the council. “He had received,” he said, “certain intelligence, that his faithful friend and mighty ally, the Emperor of the French and King of Italy, was already arrived at Bayonne, with the joyful and salutary purpose of passing through this kingdom, to the great satisfaction of himself (the King), and to the great profit and advantage of his beloved subjects. It was becoming the close friendship between the two crowns, and the great character of the Emperor, that he should go to meet him; thus giving the most sure and sincere proofs of his sentiments, in order to preserve and renew the good harmony, confidential friendship, and salutary alliance which so happily subsisted, and ought to subsist between them. His absence could last only a few days, during which he expected, from the love and fidelity of his dear subjects, who had hitherto conducted themselves in so praiseworthy a manner, that they would continue to remain tranquil; that the good harmony between them and the French troops would still be maintained; and that those troops should be punctually supplied with every thing necessary for their maintenance.” On the same day he appointed his uncle, the Infante Don Antonio, president of the high council of government, as well, it was said, on account of the ties of blood, as because of the distinguished qualities with which he was endowed, to transact all pressing and necessary business which might occur during his absence. In this decree he stated, that he should go to Burgos, evidently implying an intention at that time of not proceeding farther.

Deceived, or fain to act as if he were deceived himself, Ferdinand thought to deceive his father. He wrote to him, saying, that a good understanding subsisted between the Emperor and himself, as General Savary had testified; and for this reason he thought it fit that his father should give him a letter for the Emperor, to congratulate him on his arrival, and assure him that Ferdinand’s sentiments toward him were the same as his own. Charles, in reply, ordered the messenger to be told, that he was gone to bed, ... being determined not to write such a letter unless he were compelled to it, as he had been to the abdication. The son, without any such testimonials, began, on the morning of the 11th of April, his ill-omened journey. Savary, affecting the most assiduous attention, solicited the honour of accompanying him; ... he had just, he said, received information of the Emperor’s approach, and it was not possible that they should proceed farther than Burgos before they met him. They reached Burgos, and Buonaparte was not there, neither were there any tidings of his drawing near. Savary, who had followed the young King in a separate carriage, urged him to proceed to Vittoria. Ferdinand hesitated; but the same protestations and urgent entreaties on the part of the French envoy, and the same anxiety and secret fear which had induced him to come thus far, made him again consent; yet so reluctantly, that the Frenchman, on their arrival at Vittoria, thinking it would be useless to renew his solicitations, left him there, and continued his journey to Bayonne, there to arrange matters with his master for securing the prey, who was now already in the toils. At Vittoria, Ferdinand received intelligence that Buonaparte had reached Bourdeaux, and was on his way to Bayonne. In consequence of this advice, the Infante Don Carlos, who had been waiting at Tolosa, proceeded to the latter place, whither the Emperor had invited him: he reached that city some days before him; and when this modern Cæsar Borgia arrived there, he found one victim in his power. It is said that Don Carlos soon discovered the views of Buonaparte; and, having communicated his fears to one on whom he relied as a Spaniard, and a man of honour, drew up, with his advice, a letter to Ferdinand, beseeching him, as he valued the independence of his country and his personal safety, not to proceed to Bayonne; but this person was in the tyrant’s interest, and intercepted the messenger.