IF the reign of Charles III, despite the close union of the Bourbon crowns, had been characterized mainly in its external manifestations by the hostility of Spain to England, that of Charles IV (1788-1808) was dominated by relations with France. Unaffected for a while by the principles underlying the French Revolution, Spain was toppled from her position as a first-rate power by the Emperor Napoleon, whose designs for world power and whose methods in seeking it were not unlike those followed over a century later by William II of Germany. Meanwhile, the ideas of the American and the French revolutions were permeating the Spanish colonies, and as the wars with England continued during much of this reign, shutting off effective communication between the colonies and Spain, a chance was offered for putting them into effect in the new world. The way was well prepared in the reign of Charles IV, though the outbreak was postponed until after his fall. The blow struck by Napoleon was not without its compensations, which in the long run may be considered to have outweighed the loss of prestige. Napoleon, quite without intention, gave Spain an impulse to national feeling, in the uprising against French domination, which was greater than any she had formerly experienced, and of sufficient force to endure to the present day. In the same roundabout way Napoleon gave the Spain of the Dos de Mayo, or Second of May (the date of the revolt against Napoleon, and the national holiday of Spain), her first opportunity to imbibe democratic ideas.

To cope with the great forces of the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Empire, Spain had to rely on the leadership of the weak, timid, vacillating Charles IV. His predecessor had left him a legacy of able ministers, but these were not long sustained by the king. At the outset Floridablanca still ruled as first minister of state. He was liberal-minded as concerned social and economic institutions, but was profoundly royalist in his political ideas and an enemy of anything which represented a diminution in the prerogatives of the crown. He was alarmed by the ideas which were being spread broadcast in France, and took steps to prevent their introduction into Spain, becoming recognized as an opponent of the French Revolution. In the midst of this situation, there occurred the Nootka affair, which obliged him for a time to change his policy. A Spanish voyage of 1789 to the northwest coast of North America had resulted in the discovery and capture of two English ships at Nootka, on the western shore of Vancouver Island. Floridablanca informed the English government of this event, in January, 1790, complaining of the frequent usurpations of Spanish colonial territories by British subjects, and asking for the recognition of Spain’s ownership of Nootka, which had been discovered by a Spanish voyage of 1774. What followed was very nearly a duplicate of the Falkland incident, twenty years before. England claimed that the British flag had been insulted, and demanded satisfaction, which Floridablanca refused to give, as it involved the acknowledgment of a doubt concerning Spain’s ownership of Nootka. War seemed imminent, and the French government was invoked to stand by the Family Compact. The National Assembly, then in actual control in France, acknowledged the obligation, but attached conditions (having to do with the revolution) to their willingness to declare war,—with the result that Charles IV and Floridablanca decided that it was better to avoid a rupture with England. A series of three treaties, from 1790 to 1794, arranged for the payment of an indemnity by Spain, and among other matters agreed that the ships of both nations should have a right to sail the waters and make landings freely in regions not already settled by either power. In effect, therefore, the lands north of the Spanish settlements were thrown open to the entry of England. These treaties had a significance which was wider than that of the matters directly involved. They marked a new spirit in the direction of colonial affairs. In the early years of the conquest Spain had played an aggressive part, followed soon by the adoption of what might be termed an aggressive defensive, or a willingness to fight for the retention of what she had, leading also to further conquests in order to ward off foreign attack. The Nootka affair was the beginning of a spiritless, waiting kind of defensive, the inevitable outcome of which was disintegration.

The Nootka treaties left Spain free, however, to stand in opposition to the French Revolution. Louis XVI of France had written secretly to Charles IV, in 1789, that he had been compelled to agree to measures of which he did not approve. Other European monarchs were also acquainted with the perils of Louis XVI’s position, and in the general interests of kingship, all desired to save him, although in the case of Spain there was the strong bond of family ties as well. In 1790 Floridablanca directed a note to the French Assembly requesting greater freedom of action for Louis XVI, making thinly veiled threats in case of a refusal to comply. This action only served to enrage the French government. In 1791 Floridablanca ordered the taking of a census of all foreigners in Spain, about half of whom were Frenchmen, compelling them to swear allegiance to the king, the laws, and the religion of the peninsula. A subsequent order prohibited the entry of any literature of a revolutionary bearing, even going so far as to forbid foreigners to receive letters. When Louis XVI accepted the constitution of 1791 Floridablanca announced that Charles IV refused to recognize that the French king had signed the document of his own free will, and asked that Louis XVI and his family be allowed to go to a neutral land, threatening war if the French government should fail to accede to Charles’ wishes. Here was a direct challenge to the revolution, but instead of accepting the gauntlet France sent an agent to Spain who was able to persuade Charles IV that Floridablanca’s policy was in fact contributing to the dangerous position of Louis XVI. Floridablanca was therefore relieved from power early in 1792, and Aranda became first minister in Spain.

Aranda, who sympathized to some extent with the revolutionary ideas, placed the relations with France on a more cordial basis, although without relinquishing the efforts which were being made in company with other European sovereigns to save Louis XVI. When the news came of the revolutionary excesses of the summer of 1792 Aranda, who had not expected such a turn of affairs, became more stern, and began to consider the advisability of joint military action with Austria, Prussia, and Sardinia. Meanwhile, the French government demanded the alliance of Spain or offered the alternative of war. Induced in part by a doubt with regard to the best policy to pursue for the sake of Louis XVI, Spain hesitated, and suggested a treaty of neutrality. France imposed conditions which it was impossible for Spain to accept, among them the recognition of the French Republic, which had just been proclaimed. Before Aranda could meet the problem in a decisive manner he was dispossessed of his post as the result of a palace plot in favor of Manuel Godoy.

At the time of his accession to the headship of the Spanish ministry in 1792 Godoy was a mere youth, twenty-five years of age. Formerly a soldier of the royal guard, he had been selected by Charles IV with the specific idea of training him to be his leading minister, for the king believed that the plebeian Godoy would, out of necessity, be devotedly attached to the royal interests. The queen, MarÍa Luisa, was influential in the choice of Godoy, for there is little doubt that she was already the mistress of this upstart youth. Godoy’s abilities have perhaps been condemned too harshly. He was a man of ambition and some talent, and had studied assiduously to fit himself for his eventual post. Nevertheless, his sudden rise to high rank in the nobility (for he had been made Duke of Alcudia) and in political office, together with the notoriety of his relations with the queen, caused an indignation in Spain which was to result in the forming of a party opposed to him,—a group which the enemies of Spain were able to manipulate to advantage.

Godoy continued the efforts of his predecessors to save Louis XVI, without more success than they, and when he declined to accede to the conditions imposed by the French Convention, then ruling in France, that body early in 1793 declared war on Spain. The war against France was joined by most of the countries of western Europe. One by one, however, the continental princes fell away, and urged Spain to do the same. The war itself, so far as Spain was concerned, was not decisive either way, although France had a little the better of it. In 1795 negotiations were undertaken which resulted in the treaty of Basle. The Pyrenean boundary was maintained, but Spain ceded that portion of the island of Hayti, or Santo Domingo, which still belonged to her, thus acknowledging the French title to the whole island.[60] The government of England, with which Spain had allied for the war with France, was exceedingly annoyed by Spain’s acceptance of peace, and very soon began to act in a threatening manner. Even as an ally in the recent war England had not been altogether cordial toward Spain. On one occasion a Spanish treasure ship which had been captured by the French was retaken by the English, and retained as a prize; Englishmen had continued to engage in contraband trade, not only in Spanish America, but also in the peninsula itself; they had been responsible for encouraging separatist feelings in Spanish America, well knowing that the independence of Spain’s colonies would result in advantages to British commerce; and England had refused to grant Spain a subsidy for the 1795 campaign,—a factor with a bearing on Spain’s action, whatever the merits of the case. The resentment of the Spanish court was now provoked by insults which were offered to the Spanish ambassador to London and by attacks on Spanish ships, just as formerly in the reign of Charles III. The natural effect was to drive Spain into the arms of France. An alliance was formed in 1796 which was followed by a declaration of war against England. It is highly probable that Charles IV was induced to form this union by a belief, fostered perhaps by French intrigue, that the French Republic was about to collapse, in which event it seemed likely that a Spanish Bourbon might be called to the throne of France.

Spain’s experience as an ally of France was not more happy than her previous union with England. France excluded her from representation at several conferences looking to treaties of peace between France and her enemies, and made slight efforts to secure the interests of Spain, going so far as to refuse her sanction to many of the pretensions of her Bourbon ally. Most annoying of all was the dispossession of the Duke of Parma, a relative of Charles IV by descent from Isabel Farnesio. The French government endeavored to calm Spanish feelings on this point by offering to make Godoy the Grand Master of the Knights of Malta,—an honor he was disposed to accept, subject to certain conditions, one of which was that he be absolved from the vow of chastity. In fact, however, the French authorities were suspicious of Godoy, believing that he was secretly plotting with England, because he did not insist on Portugal’s refusing to allow the English fleets to remain in Portuguese ports. A French representative was sent to Spain in 1797, and the dismissal of Godoy was procured from Charles IV. Nevertheless, Godoy continued to be the principal force at the Spanish court, backed as he was by the powerful influence of the queen. The policy of truculence to France went on, however, due in part perhaps to Charles’ continued hopes of acquiring the Bourbon crown, but even more, very likely, to his pusillanimity in the face of the threats of the French Directory. In 1799 his hopes were dashed when Napoleon Bonaparte overthrew the Directory and became first consul of France, a title which a few years later he converted into that of emperor.

The change of government in France was welcomed at the Spanish court, for it was believed that Spain would receive more consideration at the hands of Napoleon than she had obtained from the Directory. Events proved that Spain was to be even more an instrument in French hands than formerly, and that Napoleon was to be more powerful and despotic and less courteous and faithful in international affairs than the French rulers who had preceded him. One of his earliest acts was an attempt to employ the Spanish fleet to conserve French ends. When the Spanish admiral refused to carry out the wishes of Napoleon, a matter in which he was sustained by his government, the French ruler brought about the dismissal of Urquijo, at that time first minister of state in Spain, and shortly afterward the offending admiral was relieved from his command. Meanwhile, a treaty had been arranged in 1800 whereby Napoleon agreed to enlarge the dominions of the Duke of Parma (who had regained his duchy) in exchange for the recession of Louisiana to France and the gift of six ships of war. By a treaty of 1801 Tuscany was granted to the family of the Duke of Parma, whose whole domains were now called the kingdom of Etruria. It was provided that in case of a lack of succession of the reigning house a Spanish prince of the royal family should inherit the Etrurian throne, and this was to be the rule forever. Another treaty of 1801 required Spain to issue an ultimatum to Portugal demanding an abandonment of the English alliance. The name of Godoy was signed to the later treaties in the series of which the above have been mentioned. He had not ceased to be influential during his absence from power, but henceforth until 1808 he was definitely in the saddle. Though his military experience was slight he was appointed general of the Spanish army which was to invade Portugal, and when war was presently declared he entered that country. The campaign, although comparatively insignificant, resulted in victory. Portugal agreed to close her ports in return for the Spanish king’s guarantee of the territorial integrity of Portugal. A celebration was held at Badajoz, at which the soldiers presented the queen with branches of orange trees taken from Portuguese groves, resulting in the application of the name “war of the oranges,”—which fittingly described its inconsequential character. Napoleon was furious over such a termination of the war, and went so far as to threaten the end of the Spanish monarchy unless the campaign were pursued. At length he decided to accept the result, after Portugal had consented to increase the indemnity which she had originally agreed to pay to France. This marked a beginning, however, of the French ruler’s distrust of Godoy. Shortly afterward it suited Napoleon’s purposes to make peace. In 1802 a treaty was signed with England, and, naturally, Spain too made peace. Minorca, which had been occupied by the English, was restored to Spain, but the island of Trinidad was surrendered to England,—another bit chipped off Spain’s colonial empire.

Godoy had emerged from the Portuguese campaign as general-in-chief of the armies of the land and sea, and was again the dominating power at court. By this time a strong opposition had grown up around Ferdinand, the eldest son of the king, directed by an ambitious canon, named Escoiquiz. Napoleon now had a political force at hand, to employ whenever he should desire it, against Godoy. Early in 1803 Napoleon was again at war with England, and proceeded to woo Spain’s support by charges that she was favoring England and by threats of war. In the same year, too, he sold Louisiana to the United States, although he had promised Spain at the time of the recession that France would never transfer that region to any country other than Spain. Spain protested, but soon accepted the situation. Later in 1803 Napoleon compelled Spain to consent to a so-called treaty of neutrality, which in fact amounted to the paying of a monthly tribute to France. England objected, and followed up her complaints by capturing three Spanish frigates and stopping merchantmen, without a declaration of war. England announced that she was holding the frigates as a guarantee of Spanish neutrality. Thus courted with equal roughness by France and England, Spain was again under the necessity of choosing which of her enemies to fight. England was selected, and in 1804 war against that country was declared.

In 1805 there occurred the great battle of Trafalgar, in which the French and Spanish navies were virtually destroyed by the English under Nelson. The immediate results of this defeat as affecting Spanish action was the decision of Godoy, who had never enjoyed cordial relations with Napoleon, to seek an alliance with England. Through this agency he hoped to bolster up his own power as against the rapidly growing body of his enemies in Spain. In the midst of his plans came Napoleon’s great victory over Prussia at Jena in 1806, which, following that of Austerlitz over Austria in 1805, once again made the French emperor dangerously predominant on the continent of western Europe. Godoy, who had already compromised himself, made haste to explain. Napoleon pretended to be satisfied, but decided then that he would make an end of the Bourbon monarchy. The unpopularity of Godoy and the strength of the party of Ferdinand, who was now a popular favorite, were among the means of which he availed himself; Ferdinand even wrote him letters in which he alluded freely to his mother’s adulterous relations with Godoy. Meanwhile, Napoleon profited by Godoy’s willingness to do anything to win the favor of the emperor by arranging for the conquest of Portugal. A partition of that territory was projected whereby the Bourbon monarch of Etruria was to have northern Portugal, Godoy (as Prince of Algarve) was to have the south, and the centre was to be exchanged for Gibraltar, Trinidad, and other colonies which England had taken from Spain. The usual ultimatum having been sent and rejected, the war began for what seemed a brilliant objective for Spain,—if Napoleon had had any intention of his keeping his word.

The campaign of 1807 resulted in a rapid, almost bloodless conquest of Portugal by the French general Junot, placing Napoleon in a position to fulfil his treaty obligations. Nothing was further from his plans, however, and, indeed, Godoy and the king had recently had cause to suspect his sincerity; action had been taken against Ferdinand and his party, resulting in the exposure of the prince’s correspondence with Napoleon. Napoleon occupied Etruria,—and gave the queen of that country to understand that she need not look for compensation in Portugal. Godoy, meanwhile, remained without Algarve, although hoping against hope that he might yet get it. All this time, French troops were pouring into Spain, and through deceit were possessing themselves of the Spanish strongholds in the north. To the credit of Godoy it must be said that he divined the emperor’s intentions, and favored a demand for the withdrawal of the French troops, with the alternative of war. Charles IV and his other leading advisers were opposed to this idea; the king was frightened at the very thought of fighting Napoleon. The emperor now began to unmask himself. The Spanish ambassador to France returned to Madrid as the bearer of a message from Napoleon, asking for the cession of certain Spanish provinces in the north as far as the Ebro, or else for the recognition of the emperor’s title to Portugal, together with a military road thereto across Spanish territory; the ambassador added that he believed Napoleon intended to possess himself of the northern provinces and perhaps of all Spain, though possibly not until the death of Charles IV. It was now perfectly clear to Godoy and the king what Napoleon meant to do, but the party of Ferdinand, unaware of all the facts, was wedded blindly to the emperor, believing that his sole desire was to get rid of Godoy and assure the succession of Ferdinand. Charles, Godoy, and the queen thought of escaping to the Americas, and as a preliminary step moved the court from Madrid to Aranjuez. A riot followed at Aranjuez in which Godoy was captured by the followers of Ferdinand, and was with difficulty saved from death. Realizing that the army and the people were almost wholly on the side of Ferdinand, and unable to see any way out of his difficulties, Charles IV decided to abdicate, and accordingly on March 19, 1808, did so. All Spain rejoiced, for Godoy had fallen, and the idolized prince had now ascended the throne as Ferdinand VII.

Napoleon was much displeased at the course of events in Spain. The flight of Charles would have fitted in with his plans, whereas the accession of Ferdinand placed him under the necessity of exposing his hand. Temporarily he saved the situation by one of the most remarkable exhibitions of successful duplicity in history. On March 23 General Murat entered Madrid with a French army, and the next day Ferdinand made his royal entry, and was received by the people with delirious joy. The foreign diplomats at once recognized him as king,—except the French ambassador. Uncertain yet what to do, Napoleon was on the one hand giving indications of an intention to restore Charles IV, and on the other planning to set up one of his own brothers as king of Spain. Charles IV gave the emperor the opening he desired. In order to obtain some material advantages from his abdication and to save Godoy, who was still in prison, he entered into communication with Murat, and as a result secretly retracted his abdication, placing himself entirely in the hands of Napoleon. Meanwhile, Murat told Ferdinand that the emperor was coming to see him, and suggested that Ferdinand should go to Burgos to meet him. When Ferdinand decided against the journey, lest it produce a bad effect in the minds of the people, Napoleon sent General Savary with orders to bring Ferdinand whether he wanted to come or not. Savary succeeded in persuading the young prince to go to Burgos, and when Napoleon was not found there to Vitoria. Beyond this point Ferdinand was at first not disposed to go, but, urged on both by Savary and Escoiquiz, who still believed in the French emperor, the party proceeded across the boundary line to Bayonne. There indeed they found Napoleon,—and Ferdinand was informed that he must abdicate the throne. A few days later, on April 30, Charles IV, MarÍa Luisa, and Godoy arrived; they had been easily persuaded to go there by Murat. The reunion of the royal family at Bayonne was accompanied by disgraceful quarrels of the parents and the son and by the humiliating weakness of all in the presence of Napoleon. Charles IV was again induced to abdicate, and was given a rich pension and estates in France to which he and his family, Godoy, and the royal servants might repair. Ferdinand was also granted rents and lands. To Napoleon was given the right to name a king of Spain.

Meanwhile, the French troops in Madrid and elsewhere had been conducting themselves like conquerors, and had aroused considerable hostility in the people, who were not so easily deceived and dominated as their rulers had been. After the departure of Ferdinand from Madrid the French officers did not hesitate to say that Napoleon would not recognize him,—which only increased the popular discontent. The climax came when an order was received from Napoleon for the young Bourbon prince, Francisco de Paula, and for the queen of Etruria with her children to be sent to France. The departure from Madrid was set for the morning of the second of May. A crowd gathered to see the royal party off, and heard rumors which excited it to a feeling of frenzy,—for example, that the young Francisco (then only thirteen) had protested in tears against going. Insults were offered the French soldiery, and the harness of the coaches was cut. These scenes were interrupted by the appearance of a French battalion, which fired without warning into the crowd. The crowd scattered, and spread the news over the city. This was the signal for a general uprising against the French. The Spanish troops were under strict orders from the government to stay in barracks, but a number of them declined to obey. Prominent among those joining the people against the French were Captains Pedro Velarde and Luis Daoiz, the heroes of the day. When the people were driven out of the central square of the city, the Plaza del Sol, by the French artillery, Velarde hastened to the battery commanded by Daoiz. Convincing the latter that the interests of the country were superior to discipline he joined with him and a certain Lieutenant Ruiz in directing the fire against the French troops. Superior in numbers and armament, the French were successful after a battle lasting three hours in which Velarde and Daoiz were killed. The dramatic events of the Dos de Mayo, or the second of May, were the prelude to a national uprising against the French. Without a king or a government Spain began the war which was to usher in a new era in Spanish history,—for, just as Americans look back to the Fourth of July in 1776, so the Spaniards consider the Dos de Mayo of 1808 as the beginning of modern Spain.