AFFAIR OF THE ESCURIAL. SEIZURE OF THE SPANISH FORTRESSES. TUMULTS AT ARANJUEZ. FERDINAND MADE KING IN HIS FATHER’S STEAD.
?1807.
Affair of the Escurial.? The six months which had now elapsed since the treaty of Fontainebleau had been the most eventful in Spanish history. On the 30th of October, a few days after the signature of that treaty, and a few weeks after Prince Ferdinand had written to Buonaparte, a proclamation was issued from the Escurial, in which the King of Spain accused his eldest son of conspiring to dethrone him. ?Ferdinand accused of plotting to dethrone his father, and attempting his mother’s life.? “God,” said he, in this extraordinary paper, “who watches over his creatures, does not permit the consummation of atrocious deeds when the intended victims are innocent; thus his omnipotence has saved me from the most unheard-of catastrophe. An unknown hand has discovered a conspiracy carried on in my own palace against my person. My life was too long in the eyes of my successor, who, infatuated by prejudice, and alienated from every principle of Christianity that my parental care had taught him, had entered into a project for dethroning me. Being informed of this, I surprised him in my room, and found in his possession the cipher of his correspondence and of the instructions he ?1807. November.? had received from the vile conspirators. The result has been the detection of several malefactors, whose imprisonment I have ordered, as also the arrest of my son.” In a letter to Buonaparte, written the day before this proclamation was published, the King made a more horrible charge against the Prince, whom he accused of having attempted the life of his mother. “An attempt so frightful,” said he, “ought to be punished with the most exemplary rigour of the laws. The law which calls him to the succession must be revoked: one of his brothers will be more worthy to replace him on my throne and in my heart ... I thought that all the plots of the Queen of Naples would have been buried with her daughter!” This alluded to an opinion that the Prince’s late wife had first instigated him to cabal against his father. She doubtless detested Godoy and her infamous mother-in-law, and they therefore would not fail to indispose the King toward her.
?Persons implicated in the charge.?
The persons chiefly implicated in this accusation were the Duke del Infantado and D. Juan Escoiquiz, formerly tutor to the Prince, and author of an heroic poem upon the conquest of Mexico: the latter had acted as Ferdinand’s agent with the French Ambassador; and the former had received from him an appointment with a blank date and a black seal, authorizing him to take the command of the troops in New Castille upon the event of the King’s death. Six days after the first proclamation another was issued, in which two letters from the Prince were contained. The first was in these terms, addressed to the King: ?Ferdinand confesses himself faulty, and entreats forgiveness.? “Sire and father, I am guilty of failing in my duty to your majesty; I have failed in obedience to my father and king. I ought to do nothing without your majesty’s consent, but I have been surprised. I have denounced the guilty, and beg your majesty to suffer your repentant son to kiss your feet.” The other was to the Queen, asking pardon for the great fault which he had committed, as well as for his obstinacy in denying the truth; and he requested her mediation in his favour. In consequence of these letters, the King said, and of the Queen’s entreaty, he forgave him, “for the voice of nature unnerved the hand of vengeance.” The Prince, he added, had declared who were the authors of this horrible plot, and had laid open every thing in legal form, consistent with the proofs which the law demanded in such cases. The Judges therefore were required to continue the process, and submit their sentence to the King, which was to be proportioned to the magnitude of the offence, and the quality of the offenders. Meantime, at the request of his Council, he ordered a public thanksgiving for the interposition of Divine Providence in his behalf.
?Disgraceful to all parties.?
This mysterious affair has never been clearly elucidated: it has been believed to be partly the work of Godoy, partly the intrigue of French agents: but there seems to be no ground for the latter supposition; and whatever part Godoy may have taken in it, he was clearly acting on the defensive. It is one of those transactions in which some disgrace attaches to all the parties concerned. The King cannot be acquitted of extreme rashness in so precipitately accusing his son, and bringing so perilous a subject before the public; nor of extreme credulity in advancing the shocking and most improbable charge of having attempted his mother’s life. On the other hand, the fact that Ferdinand so soon afterwards actually did dethrone his father, renders it very difficult to exculpate him from having attempted it at this time: if he did not, it was only because the opportunity did not invite him, not from any sense of duty. In the lame justification which he afterwards published of himself and his partizans, it is said that the letter by which he requested pardon of his father was brought to him by Godoy for signature; and that he signed it because he would not refuse that new proof of filial respect to his august parents. But the letter was more than a mark of filial respect; it professed repentance, it implored forgiveness, and it impeached his friends.
?Not instigated by Buonaparte.?
Buonaparte stood in no need of an intrigue of this kind, with its plot and counter-plot; his plan had already been formed and his means prepared: and Godoy was at that time held in such close dependence upon Buonaparte by his hopes and fears, that he would not have ventured upon so bold a measure without his concurrence, likely too as it was to draw down his displeasure. The secret denunciation may probably have come from the Queen, who realized in her feelings toward her son all that has ever been feigned in tragedy of unnatural mothers. There is a point at which any evil passion becomes madness, and it was afterwards evinced that her passion had reached that height. Fearing and hating her son, it may well be supposed that she would narrowly watch his conduct; enough might be discovered to excite a well-founded suspicion of his intentions; and the more atrocious part of the accusation might be prompted by her wickedness or her fears. If Buonaparte had instigated the proceedings against Ferdinand, they would have been carried to greater lengths; he was not a man to have drawn back in deference to popular opinion, even if at that time there had been any channel by which the popular feeling of the Spaniards could have been expressed. ?His conduct.? But on this occasion he acted as a friendly sovereign would have done. Without any appearance of interfering publicly, he instructed the Ambassador, Beauharnois, to mediate in favour of the Prince, and put a stop to proceedings which could only bring disgrace upon the royal family: thus keeping aloof from all parties, he made them all look to him with trembling dependence, while he steadily pursued his plans for the destruction of all. He did not however neglect to take advantage of the circumstance for furthering those nefarious plans; but on the receival of the dispatches, affecting the most violent anger that a suspicion of his ambassador should have been entertained, ordered 40,000 men to Spain, to be prepared, as he afterwards said, for every event, and to support the army of Portugal, and to counteract the policy of England, by which he pretended to believe these intrigues were put in motion.
?Anxiety of Godoy.?
Meantime Junot took possession of Lisbon. One part of the secret treaty having been thus fulfilled, Godoy was anxiously expecting to be installed in his new kingdom of the Algarves, where he flattered himself with the thought of being secure from Ferdinand’s resentment, to which in his present situation he would otherwise be exposed upon the King’s death. He relied upon the good offices of Joachim Murat, Grand Duke of Berg, who had married one of Buonaparte’s sisters, the widow of General Le Clerc. With him he communicated through D. Eugenio Izquierdo, his agent at Paris; and if money to any amount should be necessary to expedite his wishes, the treasure which he had amassed during his administration enabled him to disburse it at command. Murat however informed him that the business was now become very delicate, owing to the extraordinary attachment which the Spaniards manifested toward the Prince of Asturias, the consideration due to a princess of the royal family, and the part taken by her relation, the Ambassador Beauharnois. Godoy now fully believed that the projected marriage was agreeable to Buonaparte, and ?1807. December.? yielding to every new circumstance with the facility of weakness, persuaded Charles to write and solicit an alliance which he had so lately dreaded. But Buonaparte assumed an air of displeasure towards Izquierdo, and kept him at a distance, in order to cut off the direct mode of communication; and he set off for Italy, giving to his journey an affected importance, which excited the expectation of all Europe. There carrying into execution those parts of the secret treaty which were to his own advantage, ?The Q. of Etruria expelled from Tuscany.? he expelled from Tuscany the widow Queen of Etruria and her children; and seized the public funds of a court who were ignorant of the very existence of the compact by virtue of which they were called upon to surrender not only what he had given them, but those dominions which they had possessed before he and his family were banished from Corsica. It was in vain for this poor Queen to demand time for dispatching a courier to her father’s court, or to plead that no communication had been made to her upon a subject in which the rights and interests of her son were vitally concerned; she was desired in reply to hasten her departure from a country which was no longer hers, and to find consolation in the bosom of her family. On the journey they informed her that she was to receive a part of Portugal as a compensation. This only increased her affliction, for she neither wished for, she says, nor would accept of dominion over a state belonging to any other sovereign, ?Memoir of the Q. of Etruria, p. 20.? still less over one which belonged to a sister and a near relation of her own. ?1807 December.? To this trial the Queen of Etruria was not exposed: upon reaching her parents and inquiring respecting the treaty, she was told that they also had been deceived, and that no such treaty was in existence!
?Buonaparte writes to the King of Spain.?
From Italy Buonaparte answered the King of Spain’s letters; assured him that he had never received any communication from the Prince of Asturias, nor had had the slightest information of the circumstances respecting him which those letters imparted; nevertheless, he said, he consented to the proposed intermarriage. In a letter afterwards written to Ferdinand himself, he acknowledged the receipt of that letter which he now denied. Holding out these hopes to the Prince, and yet, at the same time, by his long silence and his reserve towards Izquierdo, keeping him, his father, and the favourite, equally in suspense and alarm, he was, meantime, marching ?Troops marched into Spain.? his armies into Spain. That they should enter it had been stipulated by the secret treaty of Fontainebleau; and the court was not in a state to insist upon the condition that the two contracting powers were to come to a previous agreement upon that point. It was essential to his views that he should make himself master of the principal fortresses; and his generals were instructed to obtain possession of them in whatever manner they could. The wretched court, fearing they knew not what, were now punished by their own offences; the treaty into which they had entered for the destruction of Portugal was turned against themselves; ?1808.? and they had neither sense nor courage to take those measures for their own security which the people would so eagerly have seconded; on the contrary they gave the most positive orders that the French should be received every where, and treated even more favourably than the Spanish troops. Thus were the gates of Pamplona, St. Sebastian, Figuieras, and Barcelona thrown open to them.
?Seizure of Pamplona.
Feb. 9.? The next object of these treacherous guests was to get possession of the citadels. Pamplona was the first place where the attempt was made. General D’Armagnac having taken up his quarters in the city, received orders from Marshal Moncey, whose head-quarters were at Burgos, to make himself master of the citadel in any manner, and at whatever cost. Moncey had commanded the French army in Biscay in the year 1794, and at that time when the republican soldiers were accustomed to boast of acts of sacrilegious rapacity, left even among the people whom he had invaded the reputation of a just and generous and honourable man. It was his ill fortune now to be in the service of Buonaparte, and to be employed in acts like this! D’Armagnac first tried a stratagem; he requested permission from the Marquis de Vallesantoro, captain-general of Navarre, to secure two Swiss battalions in the citadel, under pretence that he was not satisfied with their conduct: the Marquis however perceived that such ?1808 February.? a permission would put one of the strongest bulwarks of Spain in the power of the French, and made answer that he could not consent without an express order from the court. Where there was prudence enough to prompt this answer, a certain degree of precaution might have been looked for, which nevertheless was wanting. The French soldiers were permitted every day to enter the citadel and receive their rations there, and this with such perfect confidence on the part of the garrison, that even the forms of discipline were not observed at such times. One night, during the darkness, D’Armagnac secretly introduced three hundred grenadiers into the house he occupied, which was opposite the principal gate of the citadel. Some of the ablest and most resolute men were selected to go as usual for the rations, but with arms under their cloaks. The ground happened to be covered with snow, and some of the French, the better to divert the attention of the Spaniards, pelted each other with snow-balls; and some running, and others pursuing, as if in sport, a sufficient number got upon the drawbridge to hinder it from being raised; the signal was then given, some of the party who had entered seized the arms of the Spaniards, which were not, as they ought to have been, in the hands of the guard; others produced their own concealed weapons to support their comrades; the grenadiers from the general’s house hastened and took possession of the gate, the rest of the division was ready to follow them, and the first news which the inhabitants of Pamplona heard that morning was, that the French, whom they had received and entertained as friends and allies, had seized the citadel. When all was done, D’Armagnac addressed a letter to the magistrates, informing them, that, as he understood he was to remain some time in Pamplona, he felt himself obliged to insure its safety in a military manner; and he had therefore ordered a battalion to the citadel, in order to garrison it, and do duty with the Spanish troops: “I beseech you,” he added, “to consider this as only a trifling change, incapable of disturbing the harmony which ought to subsist between two faithful allies.”
The Spanish court had by its own folly and its treachery towards Portugal, reduced itself to so pitiable a state of helpless embarrassment, that it dared not resent this act of unequivocal insult and aggression. Not to perceive that some hostile purpose was intended, was impossible; but Charles and his minister were afraid to remonstrate, or to express any feeling of displeasure, or to prepare for resistance, or even to take any measures for guarding against a like act of treason on the part of their formidable ally in the other strong holds, upon the security of which so much depended. This wretched court contented itself with repeating instructions to the commanders and captains-general, on no account to offend the French, but to act in perfect accord with them, and by all means preserve that good understanding which so happily subsisted between the two governments! And when representations were repeatedly made of the suspicions which were entertained, and the danger which all the measures of the French gave so much reason for apprehending, the answers of the court were written in vague and empty official language, from which nothing could be understood, except that the government was determined to let the whole responsibility fall upon its officers, and to be answerable itself for nothing! While D’Armagnac secured Pamplona, General Duhesme had been instructed in like manner to get possession of ?Seizure of Barcelona.? Barcelona, where he was quartered. Immediately on his arrival he requested that his troops might do duty in the city jointly with the Spaniards, and occupy with them the principal posts, assigning candidly as a reason for this suspicious request, his own personal security in the disturbed state of public feeling which was then apparent; and as a farther reason, the probability that such a proof of perfect amity and confidence would more than any other measure tend to satisfy and tranquillize the people. The Conde de Espeleta, captain-general of Catalonia, was so strictly charged in his instructions to offer no displeasure to the French, that he could not refuse his assent to this insidious proposal. If there had been any doubt of the intention which it covered, that doubt was speedily removed; the usual guard at the principal gate of the citadel was twenty men, but Duhesme stationed a whole company of chasseurs there.
A people so intelligent, so active, and so high-minded, as the Catalans, were neither to be deceived nor intimidated; and if the inhabitants had not been restrained by obedience to their own government, Barcelona might certainly have been preserved. Duhesme felt himself in danger, and the Spanish troops, as well as the inhabitants, sometimes expressed an impatience, which at any moment might have produced a perilous conflict. The French reported that their passports from Madrid were arrived, and that they were to march for Cadiz as speedily as possible; on the morrow they were to be reviewed preparatory to their march. This welcome news completely deceived the inhabitants, and no surprise was excited by the beat of drum and the movement of battalions at the time appointed. Some regiments were drawn up upon the esplanade which separates the citadel from the town, and a battalion of Italian light troops were stationed upon the road leading from the custom-house to the principal gate of the citadel. At two in the afternoon, an hour when the people, satisfied with the spectacle, had mostly left the streets and returned to their dinner and their siesta, General Lechi came to review this body of Italians, and passed on, followed by his aides-de-camp and his staff, into the citadel. The French who were on duty received him under arms, according to military etiquette, and the Spaniards did the same. Under pretence of giving some orders to the officer of the guard, Lechi and his suite halted on the drawbridge, and occupying it by that manoeuvre, covered the approach of the infantry. The Italians defiled under cover of the ravelin which defended the gate, and knocked down the first Spanish centinel, whose voice when he would have given the alarm was drowned by the beating of the French drums under the archway. Lechi then advanced; the Spanish part of the guard could make no resistance, their French comrades being ready to act against them in the first moment when the treason was discovered; and immediately afterwards overpowering numbers were upon them. Four battalions followed the first, and the invaders were completely masters of the place. The Spanish governor, Brigadier Santilly, indignant at a treachery against which he should have taken some precautions, presented himself to Lechi as a prisoner of war: he was received however with perfect courtesy, and all protestations of friendship and alliance, which General Lechi, with an effrontery worthy of his master and his cause, made no scruple of repeating in the very act of breaking them. Upon the alarm of this aggression the Spanish and Walloon guards who belonged to the garrison hastened to their post; they were not permitted to enter the citadel till night, by which time the French had secured themselves in possession of the place. Having been admitted, they ranged themselves in arms opposite the French, and in that menacing position the night was passed, and the following morning, till orders came to quarter themselves in the town; and the French were then left sole masters of the place.
?Seizure of Monjuic.?
While one division of these treacherous allies surprised the citadel, another advanced upon Monjuic, a fort upon a hill which commands the town. An Italian colonel, by name Floresti, commanded this latter division. Monjuic is one of the strongest fortresses in Spain: it had a sufficient garrison, and the commander, D. Mariano Alvarez, was a man of the highest and most heroic patriotism. When he was summoned to open the gate, he demurred, saying he must receive instructions from his government. Floresti insisted that his orders were peremptory, and must be executed. He and his men were standing upon ground which was undermined, and Alvarez was strongly inclined, instead of admitting them, to fire the train. Could he have foreseen what a spirit was about to display itself in the Peninsula, this he would undoubtedly have done; but the spirit of Spain was still overlaid by its old wretched government; and the responsibility at such a time of involving his country in direct hostilities with France was more than even the bravest man would venture to take upon himself.
?Seizure of St. Sebastian’s and Figuieras.?
At St. Sebastian’s General Thouvenot requested leave to place his hospital in the fort and in the Castle of S. Cruz, and to deposit there the baggage of the cavalry corps which was in his charge. Both the Spanish commanders did their duty by returning a refusal, and transmitting an account of their conduct to the court; ... the court returned for answer, that there was no inconvenience in acceding to the wishes of the French general; and this fortress was thus, by the imbecility of Charles and his ministers, delivered up to the French. ?March 3.? There still remained the strong and important fortress of Figuieras. Colonel Pie had been left in the town with 800 men, and with instructions to get possession of the fort. He attempted to win it by the same stratagem which had been practised at Barcelona; but the Spaniards also knew and remembered that example, and raised the drawbridge in time. Here however the governor seems to have acted with more facility than had been shown elsewhere; two days after the treacherous attempt had been frustrated, he consented to let Pie introduce two hundred conscripts, whom he pretended he wished to secure; ?March 18.? ... two hundred chosen men marched in under this pretext; the rest followed them, and the French then obtained from a government which dared deny them nothing, the keys of the magazines, and an order which removed the Spaniards from the garrison.
?Depots established at Barcelona.?
The government of Spain had not virtue enough to know the strength which it possessed in such a people as the Spaniards; feeling nothing but its own imbecility, it had not had courage to prevent these aggressions, and consequently dared not resent them; and as the French seized these places in the name of their Emperor as an ally, this wretched court consented to the occupation of them upon the same plea. Symptoms of a far different spirit appeared in Barcelona; ?Feb. 29.? and the Count of Espeleta, captain-general of Catalonia, found it necessary to issue a proclamation, calling upon all fathers of families, and heads of houses, to preserve tranquillity, and thus co-operate with the intentions of their rulers; and declaring that the late transactions did in no way obstruct or alter the system of government, neither did they disturb public nor private order. His proclamation was posted in all parts of the city. Duhesme, however, soon gave the inhabitants new cause for alarm, by calling upon the captain-general to fill the magazines, and establish depots for the subsistence of his troops. ?March 18.? The Count of Espeleta returned for answer to this requisition, “that the French general might consider the whole city as his magazine: that, as he had no enemy to dread, and was quartered there as an ally, the measures which he proposed to take could only serve to create suspicion and distrust: and that the Emperor would be ill pleased to hear that he had alarmed, with fearful forebodings, a city which had afforded him so hospitable a reception. Your Excellency,” he pursued, “will be pleased to request the opinion of his Imperial Majesty respecting your determination, before you carry it into effect, and to accompany your request with this explanation of mine; as I shall also lay the business before the King my master, without whose orders I cannot give to your Excellency what the forts in possession of the Spanish troops have not. Meanwhile I wish to impress upon your mind, that it will serve no good purpose to supply the forts with stores of provisions; that such an intention is pointed and offensive: and that it will neither be in the power of your Excellency, nor of myself, to remedy the consequences of the feeling which such a measure may excite among the inhabitants.”
?Alarm of the Spaniards.?
When the French troops first began to enter Spain, various reports were circulated to account for so extraordinary a measure. The occupation of Portugal had been the first pretext; and when Junot had taken possession of that country with one army, the possibility that the English would attack him there was a sufficient plea for having another near at hand to support him. An English expedition against Ceuta had been talked of; it was pretended that they meant to make a descent upon the southern coast of Spain, and therefore French troops were to occupy the whole of that coast. The recovery of Gibraltar was another project, and another one an invasion of the opposite shore, which would exclude the English from the ports of Barbary, and give France entire command of the Mediterranean. Buonaparte, in his dreams of ambition, had sometimes looked that way, and had inquired of those who were best able to answer the question, what force would be sufficient for the conquest of Morocco. But he was resolved first to be master of the Peninsula, and the measures which he had now taken were such as could no longer leave a doubt in any reasonable mind of his intention. The occupation of four important fortresses, which were considered as the keys of Spain, astonished the Spaniards. Never before had the public mind been so agitated, but they knew the weakness of the King and the incapacity of his counsellors; they had none to look to who should direct their willing hands; and though no people could be better disposed to stand forth in defence of their country, they remained in a state of helpless and hopeless astonishment.
?Fears and perplexities of the Spanish Court.?
Godoy is said to have been the first person about the court whose eyes were opened to the real designs of Buonaparte. They flashed upon him as soon as he learnt the seizure of Pamplona; and he ordered the Spanish General Laburia, who had been stationed at Irun that he might provide every thing for the French troops, to demand from the French commander in chief an explanation of his conduct in having taken possession of that fortress. An answer was returned, half mockery, half insult, that the citadel had been occupied in order to secure the public tranquillity. Godoy had been the tool of Buonaparte, not the accomplice: he might have foreseen such a reply; but no means were left him of resenting the aggression, or repairing the follies of which he had been guilty. Buonaparte seems at this time to have intended that the royal family should fly to their American empire; he might then take possession of the kingdom as left to him by their abdication; and there were no means of ultimately securing Spanish America also, so likely as by letting this family retire there; both countries would needs be desirous that the intercourse between them should continue; nor were there any Spaniards who would with less reluctance submit to hold it in dependence upon him, than those persons who had given so many proofs of abject submission to his will. For the purpose of increasing the fear of Charles and his ministers, he wrote an angry letter, complaining, in the severest terms of reproach, that no farther measures had been taken for negotiating the proposed marriage. The King replied, that he was willing it should take place immediately. He probably considered Buonaparte to be sincere in his intentions of forming this alliance, and never having been fit for business, and now, perhaps, for the first time really feeling its cares, a natural wish for repose began to be felt, and a thought of abdication passed across his mind. “Maria Louisa,” said he to the Queen, in the presence of Cevallos, and of all the other Ministers of State, “we will retire to one of the provinces, where we will pass our days in tranquillity, and Ferdinand, who is a young man, will take upon himself the burden of the government.” This was a thought which the example of his predecessors might readily suggest to a King of Spain. But it was not this which the Corsican desired; ... that tyrant perceived his victim was not yet sufficiently terrified, and therefore Izquierdo, who had been kept at Paris in a state of perpetual suspense and agitation, was now commanded to return to Spain. No written proposals were sent with him, neither was he to receive any; and he was ordered not to remain longer than three days. Under these circumstances he arrived at Aranjuez, and was immediately conducted by Godoy to the King and Queen. What passed in their conferences has never transpired; but, soon after his departure from Madrid, Charles began to manifest a disposition to abandon Spain, and emigrate to Mexico. If he were capable of feeling any compunctious visitations, how must he have felt at reflecting that he had assisted in driving his kinsman and son-in-law to a similar emigration; that he was now become the victim of his own misconduct; and, envying the security which that injured Prince had obtained, was himself preparing, in fear and in peril, to follow his example!
?Measures for protecting the intended emigration.?
But there was a wide difference between the circumstances of Spain and Portugal, making that a base action in the sovereign of the former kingdom, which for the last half century would have been the wisest measure that the House of Braganza could have adopted. This seems to have been felt, for the intention was neither avowed at the time, nor acknowledged afterwards. The ostensible intention was, that the royal family should remove to Seville, and that a camp should be formed at Talavera. Solano was summoned from his Utopian experiments in Portugal, and ordered to march to Badajoz without delay, that he might be ready to meet the court with a sufficient escort, and protect their embarkation; and Junot was requested to part with the Spanish troops who were at Lisbon, that they might be stationed in the southern provinces, which it was pretended were in danger from the English. This pretence did not impose upon Junot; neither could preparations for such a removal be made as easily at Madrid and Aranjuez as at Lisbon. Great agitation prevailed in the metropolis: the French were now rapidly advancing thither, and the intentions of the royal family were suspected; secretly perhaps divulged by those friends of Ferdinand in the ministry to whom they had necessarily been intrusted. Things were in this state when Godoy, as commander in chief, sent an order to Madrid for the Royal Guards, and all the other corps which were stationed there, to repair immediately to Aranjuez; at the same time he desired the Council of Castille would issue a proclamation to assure the people that this was merely a measure of precaution, for the purpose of preventing any disputes between the French and Spanish soldiery, and that the alliance between the King and the Emperor of the French remained unalterable. The Council demurred at this, and dreading the consequences of the intended flight, which they clearly perceived these troops were to protect, they sent a memorial to the King, representing the imminent danger to which, by such a measure, his royal person, his whole family, and the whole nation, would be exposed. This remonstrance produced no effect, but the Council escaped the infamy of asserting a direct falsehood to the people, which they had been instructed to do; and the troops obeying their orders left Madrid before a reply from Aranjuez could be received, and without any attempt being made to calm or to deceive the populace.
?Hopes of the Prince’s party.?
These movements revived the hopes of the Prince’s party, who were also strengthened by the natural course of events, for men who had hitherto fawned on the favourite were now ready to forsake him, and imagining that the Prince’s rise would be the consequence of Godoy’s fall, hastened to offer their servilities and services to the rising sun. They remonstrated with the King upon the extreme impolicy of his intentions; and observing to him that Buonaparte had left even his greatest enemies, the Emperor of Austria and the King of Prussia, upon their thrones, they represented how impossible it was to believe that he would think of dethroning a sovereign with whom he was in alliance, and with whose family he was about to connect his own by marriage. ?Vacillation of the King. Mar. 16.? With such men as Charles IV. the last counsellor will always have the most weight; yielding to arguments which might have staggered a stronger mind, he suddenly changed his purpose, and issued a proclamation to tranquillize the people, and to disclaim any intention of leaving the country. The army of his dear ally, he said, was traversing his kingdom in peace and friendship toward those points which were menaced by the enemy: and the junction of his life-guards was not to protect his person, nor to accompany him upon a journey, which had been mischievously represented to be necessary. Surrounded by his loyal and beloved vassals, what had he to fear? or if it were required, could he doubt of the strength which their generous hearts would offer him? But they had only to remain quiet, and conduct themselves still as they had hitherto done towards the troops of their good King’s ally. This paper was read by the people with delight; they crowded to the palace and to the gardens to manifest their joy: their loyal acclamations brought the King and his family to the balcony, and it is said that Charles was evidently affected by the marks of enthusiastic attachment which his subjects expressed, believing as they did, and as undoubtedly it was intended they should24 believe, that he engaged himself by this declaration, not to forsake the country. But the paper was hardly dry upon the walls of Aranjuez where it was posted up, before some fresh alarm produced a second change in this poor, perplexed, intimidated sovereign. ?Mar. 17.? On the morning of the 17th of March the emigration was finally resolved upon, and the hour of eleven that night was fixed for commencing their flight.
?Insurrection at Aranjuez.?
Ferdinand and his brother, the Infante D. Carlos, opposed this resolution, and entreated their parents to desist from what they called so rash and perilous a project. It is affirmed, that the former took an opportunity of saying to one of the body guards, the journey was to be that night, and that he was resolved not to go. His partizans meantime were not idle. Notwithstanding the proclamation of the preceding day, the people of Madrid were not satisfied; the proofs of the court’s intention were unequivocal; carriages and horses had been embargoed; loaded carts had set off; and relays of horses were stationed on the road to Seville. From the metropolis the populace flocked to Aranjuez; there the baggage was packed up for removal, and it was now beyond a doubt that their government was on the point of abandoning them. Godoy relied upon the soldiers; he had been accustomed to defy the opinion of the people, and it has been said, at this critical moment, when Ferdinand, trusting to his interest with Buonaparte, and perhaps still more to his favour with the mob, opposed with more vehemence his father’s intentions, that the favourite with a threatening gesture told him, if he would not go voluntarily he should be carried in bonds. But insolent as the favourite was, it is not credible that at such a time he should have dared to insult the Prince with such a menace; his wish would rather have been to get rid of Ferdinand by leaving him in Spain. Indeed these transactions are perplexed with various and contradictory relations, which it is impossible to reconcile; many persons had an interest in misrepresenting them; the circumstances themselves were confused and tumultuous, and the event resulted perhaps more from accident, than from any preconcerted scheme or intended purpose. An alarm was given late at night, whether wantonly or in design, by one25 of the body guards, who fired a pistol: others instantly assembled, and the mob gathered round Godoy’s house, and endeavoured to force their way in. His own soldiers were faithful to him, and some of the life-guards fell in this attempt. Don Diego Godoy, brother to the favourite, came with the regiment which he commanded to his assistance, and ordered them to fire upon the people; they refused to obey, and suffered their commander to be disarmed and bound hand and foot. The tumult increased, and some cries were uttered, by which it appeared that the dethronement of Charles was desired as well as the death of Godoy. Ferdinand was at that hour the idol of the unreflecting multitude, and not a thought was expressed or felt of effecting any other change than that of removing the one king to make room for another. When the house of the favourite was at length forced, he himself was not to be found. In their indignation the people committed his furniture to the flames; many valuable ornaments were destroyed, but nothing was pilfered; and the insignia of his various orders, rich with gold and jewels, were carefully preserved and delivered to the King. In the height of their fury also they had compassion upon the wife and daughter of Godoy, the former perhaps had been made an object of popular favour because of the scandalous life of her husband, and they were conducted safely to the palace with a kind of triumph, but in a state of feeling which may well be conceived. The uproar continued through the night. At the earliest break of day Ferdinand appeared in the balcony, and by his presence some degree of order was restored. The populace were weary, if they were not satisfied; the troops ranged themselves under their respective banners, guards were posted at the door of the house which had been ransacked, and quiet was apparently re-established. At seven in the morning the King issued a decree, saying, that as he intended to command his army and navy in person, he dismissed the Prince of the Peace from his rank of generalissimo and chief admiral, and permitted him to withdraw whithersoever he pleased. He also notified this in a letter to Buonaparte, wherein, as if the real cause of the dismission could possibly be concealed, it was said that leave had been granted to the minister to resign these offices because he had long and repeatedly requested it: “but,” the King added, “as I cannot forget the services the Prince has rendered me, and particularly that of having co-operated with my invariable desire to maintain the alliance and intimate friendship that unite me to your imperial and royal Majesty, I shall preserve my esteem for him.”
?Abdication of Charles IV.?
The people were not to be appeased by a measure so obviously designed to save the favourite from their hatred, and give him an opportunity of effecting his escape. There were no seditious movements during that day and the ensuing night; but the cause of alarm and agitation continued. Godoy, in the first moment of danger, had taken shelter in a garret, among a heap of mats, in one of which he wrapt himself. There he remained about two and thirty hours; till, unable longer to endure the intolerable thirst produced by the feverishness of fear, on the morning of the 19th he left his hiding-place, and came forth to meet his fate, whatever it might be. It would have been a dreadful one, if the soldiers had not first perceived him, and afforded him some protection against an infuriated populace. Notwithstanding the guard under which he was immediately placed, the raging mob fell upon him, and he was led away prisoner. He had pistols when he had hid himself, and he has been reproached for not using them either against himself or his assailants; but though at such a time he could have little hope of life, he had a Catholic sense of the value of what little interval might be granted him, and he cried out for a confessor when death appeared to be at hand. That cry may sometimes avail with a Catholic mob, when it would be vain to entreat for any other mercy. He was, however, beaten26 and wounded, and his escort would hardly have been able to have saved his life, if the King had not sent Ferdinand to save him. Under his protection ... under the protection of the man whom he had most injured, and whom he justly regarded as his greatest enemy, he was deposited safely in the guard-house; and the Prince then in the name of his father satisfied the people, by assuring them that the fallen minister should be brought to condign punishment, according to the laws. The hope of seeing him publicly executed induced them to forego the immediate fulfilment of their vengeance, which would have been an inferior gratification. They dispersed accordingly, and there was another interval in the storm.
It broke out with renewed violence about middle day, when a carriage with six mules drew up to the guard-house. A report immediately spread that the culprit was to be removed to Granada, for the purpose of screening him from justice: the mob presently collected; they cut the traces and broke the carriage to pieces. They were once more quieted by the presence of Ferdinand, who repeated in his father’s name a solemn promise that Godoy should be punished in due course of justice. How far these repeated commotions arose naturally from the strange circumstances of the kingdom and the court, or how far they may have been excited by intriguing men, who hoped for employment under a new reign, and by those who with warm hearts and heated imaginations promoted the work of revolution for its own sake, it is impossible to ascertain; even those who were present have not known what opinion to form. But whatever the moving causes of these tumults may have been, the effect was, that on the evening of that day Charles, in the presence of Ferdinand, his ministers, and the principal officers of the court, resigned the throne. One of the guards immediately spread the news, and never was any intelligence more rapidly diffused. The abdication was publicly announced by a proclamation from Charles, stating that the infirmities under which he laboured (for he suffered much from rheumatic pains) would not permit him longer to support the burthen of public affairs; and that as it was necessary for the recovery of his health that he should enjoy the tranquillity of a private life in a more temperate climate, he had, after the most serious deliberation, determined to abdicate the crown in favour of his very dear son. He therefore by this decree of “free and voluntary abdication” made known his royal will, that the Prince of Asturias should be acknowledged and obeyed as king and natural lord of all his kingdoms and dominions. The news of these events was received throughout the kingdom with the most enthusiastic delight. At Madrid the rabble manifested their joy by entirely destroying the houses of Godoy, of his brother, his mother, and his more conspicuous adherents; his portraits and his escutcheons were burnt wherever they could be found. In many places Te Deum was performed as a thanksgiving for the favourite’s fall; in others, bull-fights were given with all the barbarity of the Spanish custom, horses always, and men oftentimes, being sacrificed in those abominable pastimes. At Salamanca the monks and students danced in the market-place.