UNDER Charles III, Spain reached the highest point she has attained since the sixteenth century. In many respects the internal situation was better at this time than in the great days of the siglo de oro, but Spain’s relative authority in Europe was less, because of the striking advances which had been made by the other powers. One of them, England, was particularly dangerous, and it will be found that Spain’s foreign policy in this reign was directed primarily toward meeting the possibility of war with that country. Other difficulties, such as those with Portugal and Morocco, particularly with the former, were cogent factors because of the relations which England bore, or was believed to bear, to them. Contrary to the impression usually to be derived from the histories of the American Revolution, Spain was intensely hostile to England throughout this reign. To oppose that country the Family Compact with France was formed, and continued to be the basis of Spain’s foreign policy, although it early became manifest that France would honor the treaty only when it suited her purposes. In the end the policies of Charles III were crowned with success,—not so great as Spain could have wished, but sufficiently so to make this reign the most pleasingly satisfactory to Spaniards of any since the days of Isabella, next to whom Charles III has some claim to rank as the greatest Spanish monarch of modern times. This becomes the more worthy of belief when one investigates the sweeping character of and the success attained in the social, political, and economic reforms of the period. These were at the basis of Spain’s victories in European councils, for they provided the sinews of war. Nevertheless there was one drawback. The reforms in the Americas, following the precedent of nearly three centuries, were undertaken more with a view to the production of revenues for Spain than for the contented development of the colonies themselves. Spain also ran counter to a new force in world history, which she herself was obliged by circumstances to assist in establishing itself. The spirit of world democracy was born with the American Revolution, and appeared in France soon afterward. This meant that the autocratic basis of Spanish greatness was presently to be destroyed. The success of the American Revolution was to be related in no small degree to the loss of Spain’s colonial empire. The failure of the French Revolution was to produce a powerful despot who was to bring Spain, under Charles IV, to the lowest point she had reached since the days of Charles II. Nevertheless, the reign of Charles III is to be considered as something more than a brilliant moment in history without ultimate effect. The internal reforms were of permanent benefit to Spain and even to the Americas, capable of utilization under the more democratic systems of the future. Finally, the part played by Spain in the successful issue of the American Revolution deserves to bulk large, even though she could not look with sympathy upon a movement which, she clearly saw, might bring about her own ruin.

Many writers have ascribed Charles III’s policy of opposition to England to his hatred of that country, growing out of certain humiliations forced upon him by an English fleet while he was king in Naples. There is no reason to believe, however, that this feeling, if indeed it did exist in unusual degree, dominated his political action, and in fact Charles was always a partisan of peace; far from plunging into war he had rather to be convinced of its necessity. There were reasons in plenty to induce him to such a course, irrespective of any personal spite he might have felt. Prior to the reign of Charles, Spain had already engaged in four wars with England (1702-1713, 1718-1720, 1727-1729, 1739-1748) in the course of half a century, and at no time in the Bourbon era had the two countries been on nearly cordial terms. The gist of the trouble lay in the British ambition to possess the greatest colonial empire and the richest commerce in the world. For the realization of these aims it seemed necessary to destroy the colonial importance of France and Spain, and any advances in wealth or military power on the part of either of those countries was regarded as detrimental to the imperialistic designs of England. With respect to Spain, British contraband trade in the Americas under the cover of the asiento treaty had tended to break down the Spanish commercial monopoly, and the annulment of the asiento had not put an end to the smuggling. While no territories in the Americas had been wrested from Spain under the Bourbons, the previous century had recorded many conquests by England in the Caribbean area, principal of which was that of Jamaica, and along the Atlantic coast strip of North America, the southern part of which had been not only claimed but also occupied by Spain in earlier days. Meanwhile, the losses of France and the aggressive character of English foreign policy under Pitt made it appear that Spain might expect to be deprived of her colonies whenever the opportunity to secure them should seem ripe to England.

From the outset of the reign of Charles III there occurred many incidents to heighten Spain’s suspicion or anger with respect to England. The exigencies of the war with France led the English to adopt many arbitrary measures against the as yet neutral power of Spain. English vessels stopped Spanish ships on the high seas, claiming a right of search, and seized many of them, often without justification in international law; the English government occupied a bit of Spanish territory, and did not abandon it with a good grace; and there were instances when Spanish merchants in England were treated badly. Meanwhile, British acts of aggression and smuggling in the Americas continued to take place; the English placed difficulties in the way of Spanish fishing off the coast of Newfoundland, though beyond the territorial waters of the British domain; they founded establishments in Honduras without authorization from Spain, and began to cut the valuable dyewoods there; and Gibraltar and Minorca still remained in English hands, a standing affront to Spanish pride and a danger to the peninsula. Nevertheless, the underlying factor which influenced Spain was the imperialism of England, backed up as it was by her vast resources and her almost invincible navy. Charles did not wish to bring Spain into the war, but it was clear that an overwhelming defeat for France would be almost equally disadvantageous to Spain, who might expect to receive the next shock from the English arms. France had gotten much the worst of it in the Seven Years’ War when Charles III ascended the Spanish throne, wherefore Charles endeavored to mediate between that power and England. The British government’s arrogant rejection of his proffer tended only to make him the more disposed to consider an alliance with France. When, therefore, the French authorities approached him with the proposal for an alliance he resolved to join with them if England should refuse to meet Spain’s demands relative to the release of captured Spanish ships, the free use of the Newfoundland fisheries, and the abandonment of the English settlements in Honduras. England not only refused to give satisfaction, but also asked for an explanation of the naval preparations Spain was making. Thereupon, Charles prepared for war. Two treaties, called jointly the Family Compact, were made with the Bourbon king of France. The first of these, signed in August, 1761, was a defensive alliance against such powers as should attack either of the two crowns. The second, dated in February, 1762, was an offensive and defensive alliance directed specifically against England. War, meanwhile, had already been declared in January.

In the ensuing campaign France and Spain were badly beaten. Manila and Havana were taken by the English, although Spain won a notable success in the capture of Sacramento, a Portuguese colony on the RÍo de la Plata,—for Portugal had entered the war on the side of England. Twenty-seven richly laden English boats were taken at Sacramento,—significant of the profits which the English merchants were making in contraband trade, using Sacramento as a base. In 1763 a peace which was in many respects humiliating to Spain was signed at Paris. England restored Manila and Havana, but required the cession of Florida and all other Spanish territories east of the Mississippi; Sacramento was returned to Portugal; Spain gave up all rights of her subjects to fish in Newfoundland waters; questions arising out of the English captures of Spanish ships prior to Spain’s entry into the war were to be decided by the British courts of admiralty; and the English right to cut dyewoods in Honduras was acknowledged, although England agreed to the demolition of all the fortifications which British subjects might have constructed there. France, who had lost practically all her other colonies to England, now gave the scantily settled, ill-defined region of French influence west of the Mississippi, all that remained of French Louisiana, to Spain. According to the terms of the grant it was to compensate Spain for her loss of Florida, but in fact it was in order to ensure the continued alliance of Spain with France.

The peace of 1763 was looked upon by France and Spain as a truce, for if England had been dangerous before, she was doubly so now. France wished revenge and the restoration of her overseas domains, while Spain’s principal motive was a desire to save her colonies from conquest by England. Both countries therefore bent their energies to preparations for another war; in Spain the next decade and a half was a period of remarkable economic reforms tending to the regeneration of the peninsula as the basis for an army and navy. Meanwhile, steps were taken to avoid the possibility of an English descent upon the Spanish West Indies, which were regarded as the principal danger-point, both because of the strength of England’s position in the Caribbean area, and because that region was the key to the Spanish mainland colonies of the two Americas. Pretexts for trouble were not lacking. The English dyewood cutters of Honduras did not observe the restrictions placed upon them by the treaty of Paris, and the British government neglected to satisfy Spain’s complaints in that regard; the French settlers of Louisiana refused to acknowledge their transfer to the Spanish crown, wherefore it was necessary to employ force against them, and it was believed that English agents had instigated them to resist; on the other hand England repeatedly demanded the payment of a ransom which the English conquerors of Manila had exacted from that city, but Spain refused to pay the claim. The principal diplomatic interest down to 1771, however, was the so-called question of the Falkland Islands (called Malouines by the French, and Maluinas by Spaniards). This group, lying some 250 miles east of the Strait of Magellan, seems to have been discovered by Spanish navigators of the sixteenth century, for a description of the islands was in the possession of the Spanish authorities at an early time. The first English voyage to this group was that of Captain Cowley, as late as 1686, but no claim could be made on this basis, for in 1748 England formally recognized the rights of Spain. Not much attention was paid to the Falklands until after the Seven Years’ War, although various navigators visited them, but in 1763 a Spanish pilot, Mathei, made the first of a series of voyages to these islands. In 1764 a French expedition under Bougainville landed at one of them, and formed a settlement, and in the next year the English captain, Biron, touched at a place called Port Egmont by him, took formal possession for England, applying the name Falkland to the group, and proceeded on his way to the Pacific Ocean and around the world. Not long afterward an English settlement was made at Port Egmont, and the governor no sooner heard of the presence of the French than he ordered their withdrawal. Meanwhile, the Spanish government had lodged a complaint at the French court against the occupation of the islands by France, and an agreement was reached, whereby the French should abandon the group and a Spanish settlement there should be formed. This was done, and the English and Spanish governors began mutually to demand each other’s withdrawal, the Englishman setting a time limit of six months. The Spanish government directed the captain-general of Buenos Aires to expel the English settlers, and accordingly, though not until June, 1770, these orders were carried out. When the news reached England the British Parliament voted funds in preparation for war, and made excessive demands for reparation for what was considered an insult to England as well as for the restitution of the colony. Spain, in reliance upon the Family Compact, was not inclined to avoid the issue, and matters even went so far as the retirement of the Spanish and English ambassadors, when an unforeseen event occurred, changing the whole aspect of affairs. This was the fall of Choiseul, the French minister who had negotiated the Family Compact and who was believed by Spain to be ready to bring France into the war. It was on this occasion that Louis XV is reported to have said “My minister wanted war, but I do not,” thus calmly disregarding the treaty with Spain. Consequently, Spain had to yield, and in 1771 the Spanish ambassador to London signed a declaration disapproving the removal of the English colonists and promising to restore Port Egmont, although without prejudice to Spain’s claim to the islands.[59]

Spain might justly have abandoned the Family Compact after the Falkland incident, and for a time that treaty did suffer a partial eclipse. Charles III felt that in future he could count only on his own forces, but he continued to increase and equip them, for the danger from England was as great as ever. Self-interest inevitably brought Spain and France together, and with the appearance of the warlike Aranda in France, late in the year 1773, as Spanish ambassador to that court, plans with a view to meeting the common enemy were again discussed. The death of Louis XV, in May, 1774, brought matters still more to a head, for it resulted in a change of ministry in France, whereby Vergennes, believed to be an enthusiastic partisan of the Family Compact, became minister of foreign affairs. Vergennes was in fact an ardent supporter of the Franco-Spanish alliance, although his enthusiasm was tempered in moments of crisis by a clear view of what most favored France, and he did not fail to see that he might employ it as the basis for trade concessions from Spain, the better to build up the resources of France. Nevertheless, the opinion was general that Vergennes intended to adhere to the Family Compact, and consequently England planned to occupy Spain with other affairs, so as to separate her from France, or at least divert her from pursuing a common policy with the last-named country against England. Two matters were at hand, of which they might avail themselves: Spain’s disputes with the sultan of Morocco; and her quarrels with Portugal over boundaries in South America.

The never-ending wars with the Moslems of northern Africa were inherited from the preceding era, and continued to occupy Spanish troops and fleets down to the reign of Charles III. In 1767 satisfactory relations between Spain and Morocco seemed to have been reached when the latter agreed to abandon piracy and recognized Spain’s title to her establishments on the North African coast. Late in 1774, however, the sultan announced that he would no longer tolerate Christian posts in his empire, and commenced a siege of Melilla. The attack was beaten off, and it was decided to strike what was hoped might be a decisive blow against the dey of Algiers, the ally of the Moroccan sultan. An expedition of some 18,000 men was prepared, and placed under the command of General O’Reilly, reformer of the Spanish army and a man of tremendous reputation, but in the ensuing operations before Algiers O’Reilly was crushingly defeated with a loss of several thousand men. Rightly or wrongly, England was believed to have instigated the Moslem rulers to attack Spain. Years later, Charles came to an understanding with the Moslem states of the Barbary Coast. Between 1782 and 1786 treaties were made, whereby the rulers of those lands agreed once again to give up piracy and also the institution of slavery, besides granting certain religious and commercial privileges to Spaniards in their lands. This was not the last of piracy and warfare in North Africa, however; the former endured for another generation, and the end of the latter, even in the restricted Spanish area, is not yet.

There was a much stronger case against England with regard to Portugal, whose exaggerated claims were supported by the British government. The boundaries between the Spanish and Portuguese colonies in South America had been an unending source of dispute, ever since the treaty of Tordesillas in 1494, and the question was complicated by that of British and Portuguese smuggling into Spain’s colonies. The principal scene of conflict was the Portuguese post of Sacramento, founded in 1679 on the eastern bank of the RÍo de la Plata. The Spanish-owned region of Paraguay was also a field for Portuguese aggressions. Domestic animals to the number of hundreds of thousands were driven off from the Spanish settlements, while thousands of Indian families were captured and sold into slavery. Ferdinand VI endeavored to solve these problems through a treaty which he made with Portugal, in 1750, according to which Spain acquired Sacramento in exchange for territories in the Paraguayan region. The treaty met with the spirited opposition of leading Spanish ministers, and with that of the Jesuit missionaries, the Indians, and the Spanish settlers in the regions affected, and after many vicissitudes, including a war in Paraguay, it was annulled in 1761, but the troubles on the border continued. One of the underlying difficulties was the ambition of Portugal. Under the direction of the Marquis of Pombal, Portuguese minister of state, she was desirous of making conquests in South America, for which purpose Pombal was willing to go to any length in bad faith to achieve his end, relying upon the support of England in case Spain should declare war. Pombal secretly directed the Portuguese officials in the Sacramento region to seize desirable Spanish territories, and when reports of these captures came to Europe pretended that they were false, or that they were nothing more than inconsequential affrays between the Spanish and Portuguese soldiery. He promised to order his troops to desist from such actions, and asked Charles III to do the same. The Spanish king complied with his wishes, while Pombal on the contrary continued to give orders for hostilities and to send reinforcements, hoping that the Portuguese might secure posts from which it would be impossible to dislodge them by the time his duplicity should be found out. Not only did he deceive Charles III for a while, but he also misled the English ministers, pretending that Portugal was a victim of Spanish ambition when the facts were quite the contrary. England supported Pombal with vigorous diplomatic action. By the close of the year 1775, however, England was so busily engaged in the disputes with her own colonies that she was far from desiring a war in Europe. The British Cabinet announced that it would take no part in the quarrel between Spain and Portugal, provided Charles III should make no attempts on the territorial integrity of Portugal and Brazil. Pombal now made peaceful overtures to Charles III, hoping to delay the sending of Spanish troops to South America, but the proofs of Pombal’s perfidy were by this time so clear that the king of Spain would not trust him. In fact, a Portuguese fleet in South America attacked the Spanish fleet, in February, 1776, and shortly afterward the Portuguese captured the Spanish post of Santa Tecla. In November a Spanish expedition left CÁdiz, and on arrival in South America put a check to the Portuguese aggressions, and captured Sacramento. Fortune played into Spain’s hands in another respect when MarÍa Victoria, sister of Charles III, became regent of Portugal on the death of the king in 1777. This occasioned the dismissal of Pombal, and in October of that year a treaty was arranged between Spain and Portugal entirely favorable to the former. The much-disputed Sacramento colony was awarded to Spain, while Paraguay was retained. This treaty, supplemented by another in 1778, put an end, after nearly three centuries, to the disputes between Spain and Portugal with regard to their American boundaries.

In the midst of Spain’s preparations for a war against England there loomed up a new factor, the troubles between England and her American colonies. Down to 1774 Spain had proceeded without reference to these disputes, ardently desirous of war whenever France should be ready, although Charles III himself was conservative with regard to a declaration. Until late in the year 1774 France and Spain, together with most Englishmen, believed that the colonial situation was merely a Whig device against the Tories. The first inkling of the seriousness of the situation seems to have come in a report of the French ambassador, in June, 1774, quoting a remark of the British minister, Lord Rochford, that the Boston rioters were descendants of Cromwell’s Puritans, implying that they would fight. Both France and Spain welcomed the news, believing that it would keep England engaged until the Bourbon powers could get ready to strike. In December, 1774, Garnier, the French chargÉ d’affaires in London, had become convinced that the American dispute was the most important event in English history since the revolution of 1688, and he suggested that France should give secret aid to the Americans. In January, 1775, he reported that an army of 9000 men was being sent to the colonies, and sounded a warning lest they make a descent upon the French West Indies, whether in the flush of victory, or in order to gain a recompense in case of defeat. The Spanish court was informed of this opinion, and in March, 1775, received a similar message from Escarano, the Spanish minister in London, who stated that England had 11,736 soldiers in America (a great force as colonial armies went) and could easily attack Spain’s possessions, both because they were near, and because the British had so many transports at hand. He was of the opinion that England could not defeat America with her “three million souls, guided by the enthusiasm of liberty, and accustomed to live in a kind of independence,” a people “who had given so many proofs of valor.” The danger of a return to power of William Pitt, the imperialist, now Lord Chatham, was also alluded to. Spain at once consulted with France whether it would not be advisable to break with England immediately, but Vergennes was not ready. So the matter was dropped, although a remark attributed to Lord Rochford that the Americans could be won back to allegiance by an English declaration of war against France did not tend to allay the Bourbon feeling of insecurity.

At about this time the Spanish authorities began to be impressed by the idea, first expressed by Aranda in July, 1775, that the American outbreak would endanger Spain’s colonial empire. According to Aranda an independent America would be a menace, as her population was increasing, and consequently she needed lands, which she would be apt to seek in a region with a temperate climate like New Spain, rather than by expansion northward. Thus the Anglo-Americans might eventually dominate North America, or help Spain’s colonies to become independent. On the other hand, if England should defeat the colonists, the latter would join with her in her wars as in the past, and the danger would be equally great. Thus Spain seemed to be between two horns of the dilemma. Up to this time she had been ready for a declaration of war whenever France should announce her willingness. Henceforth there was a more conservative note in Spain’s attitude, while France, who had everything to gain and nothing to lose, threw off her former conservatism and became increasingly enthusiastic. Up to the close of the year 1776, however, Spain still leaned toward war, and France remained undecided as to the moment to strike. During this period Spain was influenced largely by the question with Portugal. In September, 1776, Vergennes informed Aranda that in his opinion the war ought soon to be begun, before England herself should declare it and make an attack on France and Spain. Spain’s attitude was expressed by Grimaldi, the Spanish minister of state, in a letter to Aranda in October. The war was inevitable, he said, and it would be an advantage to begin it several months before England was ready to undertake it. Spain would leave it to the decision of France whether the declaration should be made at once. Incidentally, Spain hoped to conquer Portugal in course of the war. This frank statement found Vergennes less enthusiastic. Moreover, he objected to Spain’s designs on Portugal, lest other European powers should be unfavorable to them. Once again the matter was dropped. Some of the higher Spanish officials were disappointed over these continued refusals by France, but Charles III said that for his part he believed the right moment had not come. Meanwhile, since June, 1776, Spain had been aiding the Americans secretly with money, arms, and ammunition, much of which was made available through shipment to New Orleans by way of Havana, and thence to destination. Nevertheless, Vergennes’ refusal, in November, to begin the war marked the turning point in the attitude of both France and Spain. The disadvantages, henceforth, loomed larger and larger in the eyes of Spain, while the successful resistance of the Americans to England made the way more and more easy for France.

The new attitude of Spain was represented by both Charles III and Floridablanca, who succeeded Grimaldi early in 1777. According to Floridablanca the most immediate advantages which Spain might hope to gain from the war were the recovery of Florida and the expulsion of the English from Honduras. War ought not to be declared, however, until both France and Spain should have considerable forces in the West Indies. Furthermore, if the rebellious English colonies should establish their independence, Spain ought to contrive to keep them divided in interests, so that there might not grow up a formidable power near Spanish America. Clearly there was no enthusiasm in Spanish governmental circles on behalf of the Americans. This appears also from the cold reception accorded Arthur Lee, the American representative, who at about this time arrived in Spain, but was not received by the Spanish court. The breach between the respective courses of France and Spain was still further widened as a result of Burgoyne’s surrender to the Americans at Saratoga. The British government began to make offers with a view to conciliating the colonists. France acted quickly to prevent it, for it was believed that a reconciliation would mean a loss of the commercial favors France hoped to get and perhaps a war with England in which the colonies would join on the English side. In December, 1777, therefore, France declared herself ready to enter into a treaty of commerce and alliance with the American government, specifically stating that her willingness was due partially to a desire to diminish the power of England by separating her from her colonies. In February, 1778, a treaty was signed. All of this was done, in violation of the spirit of the Family Compact, without any official notification to Spain. Spain’s opinion of this procedure was voiced by Floridablanca, who recommended to Charles III that Spain should continue her preparations, as if war were inevitable, but should avoid a declaration as long as possible, for under existing circumstances, one of which was the inconstancy of Spain’s allies, the war could not result favorably for Spain. Henceforth, Spain pursued an independent policy. The English government was informed that Spain’s attitude would depend upon England; Spain neither wished war nor feared it. France, meanwhile, had entered the conflict.

Charles III now began to attempt the part of a mediator, in hopes that he might get Gibraltar and Minorca as the price for bringing about peace. In May, 1778, Escarano suggested to Lord Weymouth, a member of the British ministry, that Gibraltar would be a fair equivalent for Spain’s services, but was told that the price was too high, and that affairs had probably gone beyond the point where mediation would serve; England wanted no more from Spain than that she remain neutral. In making this reply Lord Weymouth rather brusquely thanked Charles III for the magnanimity of his offer,—a type of answer which was not calculated to be pleasing to the Spanish ear, as Floridablanca very plainly intimated to the English ambassador. To add to Spain’s displeasure England’s conduct on the sea gave cause for complaint. Nevertheless, Charles still hoped to serve as arbitrator,—all the more so, when news came of French naval victories over the English. He prevailed upon Louis XVI to submit the terms upon which he would make peace. The conditions, which included an acknowledgment of American independence and the recall of England’s land and sea forces, were presented to Lord Weymouth, who haughtily rejected them. Late in the same year, 1778, Spain’s proposal of a twenty-five or thirty year truce between England and her colonies was also rejected. Nothing could exceed the patience of Charles III, who then offered Weymouth an indefinite armistice, to be guaranteed by a general disarmament. Again the Spanish king’s proposals were arrogantly rejected. To make matters worse, England had delayed her reply from January to March, 1779, and her ships had continued to attack those of Spain. On April 3, Charles renewed his offer of a suspension of hostilities, this time in the form of an ultimatum. England did not answer for nearly two months, and in the meantime, seeing that war was inevitable, planned attacks on the Spanish colonies. On May 28 the ultimatum was rejected, and on June 23 war was declared.

Spain was well prepared for the war, besides which the favorable state of her relations with Portugal, and indeed with other countries, was a source of strength. France and Spain planned an invasion of England which did not materialize, but it did cause the retention of the English fleet in British waters and a diminution in the military forces sent to America,—a factor in the American war not to be overlooked. The attempts to retake Gibraltar were unsuccessful, but in 1782 Minorca fell into Spanish hands. In America, Florida was reconquered from the British, the establishments in Honduras were taken, and the English were expelled from the Bahama Islands of the West Indies. Meanwhile, England displayed great eagerness to remove Spain from the list of her enemies. Late in 1779 she offered to restore Gibraltar for the price of Spanish neutrality, and to add Florida and the right to fish in Newfoundland waters if Spain would aid her against the United States. Not only this time but also on two other occasions when England endeavored to treat separately with Spain her offers were rejected, even though they embodied favorable terms for withdrawal from the war. In an age when international faith was not very sacred, Spain preferred to remain true to France, with whom she had renewed her alliance, although to be sure England’s promises never equalled Spain’s hopes. It is also interesting to note, not only that the Americans had a representative in Spain (John Jay), but also that there were agents of Spain in the United States (Miralles and RendÓn), besides which Bernardo de GÁlvez, the conqueror of Florida, had dealings with American agents at New Orleans. The general relations of the two governments cannot be said to have been cordial, however, and at no time was there anything approaching a veritable alliance; Bourbon Spain could not possibly approve of the democratic United States. By the treaty of 1783, which ended the war, Spain got Florida and Minorca, and limited the dyewood privileges of the English in Honduras to a term of years. On the other hand Spain restored the Bahamas to England. An interesting period of relations between Spain and the United States, having to do primarily with the regions of the lower Mississippi valley, began in the closing years of the reign of Charles III, but the story belongs rather to the colonial side of the history of Spain.

In December, 1788, Charles III died. As will be made more clear in the chapters dealing with institutions, he had brought Spain forward to the position of a first rank power again,—even though her enjoyment of that high station was to be of brief duration.