PROCEEDINGS OF THE FRENCH GOVERNMENT. CONFERENCE AT ERFURTH. PROPOSAL FOR PEACE. BUONAPARTE ENTERS SPAIN.

It had always been Buonaparte’s system, and therein it was that the strength and wisdom of his policy consisted, to ensure success, as far as the end can be rendered certain by the employment of adequate means. Having stripped Spain of its best troops, introduced his armies into the heart of the country, seized the most important fortresses, inveigled into captivity the whole Royal Family, and extorted from them a formal renunciation of the crown in his favour; the people, he thought, if they dared attempt any partial opposition, would be effectually intimidated by the first slaughter, and the military executions which should follow it. His calculation was erroneous, because the Spanish character, and the strength of good principles, had not been taken into the account. He had never dreamt of a national resistance; and the defeat of armies, till that time irresistible, affected him the more deeply, because he felt that the measures ?Marshal Gouvion St. Cyr, 18.? which had drawn on these disasters were as infamous as he now perceived that they were impolitic. The reverses which befell him in the latter part of his bloody career he bore with the coldest insensibility; but he was distressed by these, and all but cast down.

But it was too late to recede; the infamy was indelible, it remained only to secure the prize, and this he believed there would be no difficulty in effecting. His first care was to conceal from the French all knowledge of the mortifying failure his arms had experienced, till he should have secured the subserviency of the other continental powers, and collected fresh armies to pour into the peninsula. His system of government was founded upon falsehood as well as force. While all Spain was in arms, the French papers represented it as joyfully welcoming its new sovereign. “The disturbances,” they said, “which broke out in a few provinces were completely quelled: they had been occasioned only by the common people, who wished to pillage the rich: the disaffected had got together some bands of smugglers, opened the prisons, and put arms into the hands of the felons: these wretches had committed great excesses upon their peaceful countrymen, but every thing was now quiet. The captains-general, the magistrates, and the polished part of the nation, displayed the best sentiments, and the greatest repose and best state of mind prevailed. At Cadiz the public tranquillity did not experience a moment’s interruption; the inhabitants of that interesting city had resisted all the insidious offers of the English. Throughout the peninsula, indeed, only a few insignificant individuals had been led astray by the spies of England. But the Council of Castille, and the most respectable persons, had exerted their influence with all ranks, to crush the seeds of sedition before they should shoot forth; and their efforts had been completely successful.” Over great part of France and of the continent these accounts would be believed; wherever, indeed, a vigilant tyranny could keep out all information except its own. But at Bayonne it was not possible that the truth could be concealed; and by the falsehood which was officially circulated in that part of the country, it seems that the general opinion there was strongly against a war, provoked solely for the aggrandizement ?June 8.? of the Buonaparte family. M. Champagny addressed a note to the prefect of the Gironde, informing him, that the Emperor had just received advices from his brother the King of Holland, saying the King of England was dead, and that the first act of George IV. had been to make a total change of ministers. This was not given as a report, but as an authenticated fact, officially communicated: “and may this event,” it was added, “be the presage of a general peace, ... the object of the Emperor’s wishes, to the want of which Europe is so sensible, and which would be so advantageous to the commerce of Bourdeaux in particular!” The same falsehood was repeated in that number of the Madrid37 Gazette which contained Buonaparte’s proclamation of Joseph as King of Spain and the Indies. Buonaparte endeavoured also to keep his allies as well as his subjects ignorant of the real state of things. The Russian Ambassador at Madrid could find no means of communicating to his court an account of what was passing in Spain, all his letters being intercepted in France, till at the end of August, when some British officers were in Madrid, an opportunity was afforded him of sending his dispatches through England; he then confided to the honour of a hostile power what could no longer be trusted to an unprincipled ally.

It was not till two months after the capture of the ships at Cadiz, and five weeks after the flight of the Intruder from Madrid, that any account of the affairs of Spain appeared in the French ?Sept. 6.? papers, except assurances that all was well. A long narrative was then published, written with the usual falsehood of the French government, but not with its usual skill. The insurrection was ascribed entirely to the artifices and bribes of England, assisted by the monks and the Inquisition, ... the Inquisition, which had lent its whole authority to the usurpation! Great stress was laid upon the excesses which the patriots had committed; whereas the list of persons who were here claimed as martyrs in the Intruder’s cause did not equal in number the victims of one noyade in the Loire, scarcely exceeded that of one day’s allowance for the guillotine in Paris. The military detail, which was called a correct abstract of the events of the campaign, was composed with studied and inextricable confusion; all order of time and place was inverted and involved, and facts, exhibited thus piecemeal, were still farther disguised by suppression, exaggeration, and falsehood. At Valencia, it was said, French intrepidity overcame every obstacle: twenty pieces of artillery were taken; the suburbs were carried, and the streets strewed with dead bodies: ... this indeed was true; but they were the bodies of the French. At Zaragoza, fourteen cloisters, which had been fortified, three-fourths of the city, the arsenal, and all the magazines were in their possession. That unfortunate city was almost ruined by fire, the bombardment, and the explosion of mines. Not a hint was given of the event of that memorable siege. The loss of the fleet was not mentioned. Dupont was so spoken of, as to make it evident, that, if he returned to France, his life would atone for his failure. After a series of events which could not be described, because they ought to be a subject of judicial inquiry, he had committed the triple fault of suffering his communication with Madrid to be cut off, of letting himself be separated from two-thirds of his army, and then giving battle in a disadvantageous position, after a forced night-march; and, manifesting an equal deficiency of political as of military talent, he had allowed himself to be deceived in negotiations. This unexpected event, the numerous descents of the English upon the coast of Galicia, (where no English had landed, except a few officers,) and the excessive heat of the season, had induced the King to assemble his troops, and place them in a cooler climate than that of New Castille, and in a situation possessing a milder atmosphere, and better water: therefore, he left Madrid, and the army went into cooler cantonments. The bodies of insurgents scarcely deserved to be mentioned: they defended themselves behind a wall or a house; but a single squadron of cavalry, or a battalion of infantry, was sufficient to put many thousands of them to the rout. “All that the English papers have published,” said Buonaparte’s gazetteer, “is unfounded and false. England knows well the part that she is acting; she also knows well what she is to expect from all her efforts. Her only object is to involve Spain in confusion, that she may thereby make herself mistress of such of its possessions as best suit her purposes.”

At the same time, two reports from the minister of foreign affairs were laid before the French senate. The first of these bore date from Bayonne, so far back as the 24th of April. Hitherto the modern powers of Europe had always thought it necessary to hold forth some decent pretext for engaging in hostilities, however iniquitous might be the latent motives ... but the semblance of moral decorum was now contemptuously laid aside; and in this state-paper Buonaparte was advised to seize upon Spain, for the purpose of carrying on the war against England more effectually, every thing being legitimate which led to that end. No state in Europe was more necessarily connected with France than Spain: she must be either a useful friend, or a dangerous enemy; ... an intimate alliance must unite the two nations, or an implacable enmity separate them. Such an enmity had in old times become habitual: ... the wars of the 16th century proceeded as much from the rivalry of the nations as of the sovereigns: the troubles of the League and the Fronde had been excited and fomented by Spain; and the power of Louis XIV. did not begin to rise, till, having conquered Spain, he had formed that alliance with the royal family which ultimately placed his grandson on the throne. That act of provident policy gave to the two countries an age of peace, after three ages of war: but the French revolution broke this bond of union; and the Spanish Bourbons must always, through their affection, their recollections, and their fear, be the secret and perfidious enemies of France. It was for the interest of Spain, as well as of France, that a firm hand should re-establish order in her affairs, now when a feeble administration had led her to the brink of ruin. A king, the friend of France, having nothing to fear from her, and not being an object of distrust to her, would appropriate all the resources of Spain to her interest, and to the success of that common cause which united Spain to France and to the continent. Thus would the work of Louis XIV. be re-established. What policy suggests, said the report, justice authorises. The increase of the Spanish army before the battle of Jena was really a declaration of war: the laws of the customs were directed against French commerce: French merchants were aggrieved, while the ports were open to the contraband trade of England, and English merchandize was spread through Spain into the rest of Europe: Spain, therefore, was actually in a state of war with the Emperor.

Even M. Champagny, however, had not the effrontery to press this conclusion. Exclusive of this, he said, existing circumstances did not permit the Emperor to refrain from interfering in the affairs of Spain. He was called upon to judge between the father and the son. Which part would he take? Would he sacrifice the cause of sovereigns, and sanction an outrage against the majesty of the throne? Would he leave on the throne a prince who could not withdraw himself from the yoke of England? In that case, France must constantly keep a powerful army on foot in Spain. Would he reinstate Charles IV.? This could not be effected without overcoming a great resistance, and shedding French blood. And should that blood, of which France was prodigal for her own interests, be shed for a foreign king, whose fate was of no consequence to her? Lastly, would he abandon the Spanish nation to themselves, and while England was sowing the seeds of trouble and of anarchy, leave this new prey for England to devour? This was not to be thought of. The Emperor, therefore, occupied, of necessity, with the regeneration of Spain, in a manner useful to that kingdom and to France, ought neither to re-establish the dethroned king, nor to leave his son upon the throne; for in either case it would be delivering her to the English. Policy advised, and justice authorized him to provide for the security of the empire, and to save Spain from the influence of England.

Thus was the principle, that whatever is profitable is right, openly proclaimed by the French government, ... a principle which the very thief, on his career to the gallows, dares not avow to himself. The other report from the same minister ?Sept. 1.? was of four months later date, though the former had plainly not been written till it was thought expedient to publish it: for the Tyrant needed no adviser in his conduct at Bayonne; and if his usurpation had been passively submitted to by the Spaniards, Spain would have been represented as the brave and faithful ally of France, and the new dynasty exhibited as the reward of her loyalty, which was now to be the means of curbing her hostile disposition. This second report began by proposing to the Emperor that he should communicate to the Senate the treaties which had placed the crown of Spain in his hands, and the constitution, which, under his auspices, and enlightened by his advice, the Junta at Bayonne, after free and mature deliberation, had adopted, for the glory of the Spanish name, and the prosperity of Spain and its colonies. He had interfered with Spain, it said, as a mediator; but his persuasive means, and his measures of wise and humane policy, had not been successful. Individual interests, foreign intrigues, and the influence of foreign corruption had prevailed. The disturbances in Spain were occasioned by English gold. Would, then, his Majesty permit England to say, “Spain is one of my provinces! My flag, driven from the Baltic, the North sea, the Levant, and even from the shores of Persia, rules in the ports of France?” No, never! To prevent so much disgrace and misfortune, two millions of brave men were ready to scale the Pyrenees, and chase the English from the peninsula. If the French fought for the liberty of the seas, they must begin by wresting Spain from the influence of the tyrant of the ocean. If they fought for peace, they could not obtain it till they had driven the enemies of peace from Spain. If they fought for honour, they must promptly inflict vengeance for the outrages committed against the French name in Spain. The probability of meeting the English at last, of fighting them man to man, of making them feel the evils of war themselves, ... evils of which they were ignorant, having only caused them by their gold, was represented as no small advantage. They will be beaten, said M. Champagny, destroyed, dispersed, or, at least, they will make haste to fly, as they did at Toulon, at the Helder, at Dunkirk, in Sweden, ... wherever the French armies have been able to find them! But their expulsion from Spain would be the ruin of their cause; it would exhaust their means, and annihilate their last hope. In this contest the wishes of all Europe would be with France!

These reports, with the two mock treaties of Bayonne, were laid before the Senate, and, at the same time, a report of the war-minister was presented. France, it was said, had never possessed more numerous or better appointed armies, neither were they ever better kept up, or better provisioned. Nevertheless, the events which had taken place in Spain had occasioned a pretty considerable loss, in consequence of an operation, not less inconceivable than painful, of the division under General Dupont. His Majesty had notified his resolution of assembling more than 200,000 men beyond the Pyrenees, without weakening either the armies in Germany or that in Dalmatia. A levy of 80,000 was therefore indispensable, and these could only be taken from the four classes of the conscription of the years 1806, 7, 8, and 9, which, exclusive of the men who had married within those years, might furnish 600,000. In levying 80,000, only one conscript out of seven would be called out, and the vacancies in the armies would thus be filled up with soldiers of 21, 22, and 23 years of age, that is, with men fit to undergo the fatigues of war. “It is true, Sire,” said the war-minister, “that the custom observed of late years might, to a certain degree, induce a part of your subjects to consider themselves released from the duty of the conscription, as soon as they had furnished the contingent required for the year; and, under this point of view, what I propose might appear to require from your people a sacrifice. But, Sire, there is no one but knows, that, by the words of the law, your Majesty would be authorised to call to your standard the whole of the conscription, not only of the last four years, but even of the antecedent years: and even were there question of a real sacrifice, what sacrifice is it that your Majesty has not a right to expect from the love of your subjects? Who among us is ignorant that your Majesty wholly sacrifices yourself for the happiness of France, and that upon the speedy accomplishment of your high designs depend the repose of the world, the future safety, and the re-establishment of a maritime peace, without which France can never enjoy tranquillity? In proposing to your Majesty to declare, that henceforth no retrospective call shall take an antecedent conscription, I only participate, Sire, in your paternal wishes. I think it expedient, at the same time, to propose to your Majesty to order out the conscription of the year 1810, determining the amount of it, from the present instant, at 80,000 men ... to furnish the means, as occasion may require, of forming camps of reserve, and of protecting the coast in the spring time. This conscription would be raised only under the apprehension of a war with other powers, nor would it be called out before the month of January next.”

Thus, then, it appeared that those persons who had escaped from the conscriptions of four years were again to stand the hazard of this dreadful lottery, and that of the unmarried men, between the ages of 21 and 23, one in seven was to be sent to the armies! ... and this draught upon the morality, the happiness, the vital strength, the flesh and blood of the French people ... was required, because their Corsican master had thought proper to appoint his brother to be king of Spain! The promise that no retrospective conscription should again be called for, shows plainly what the feelings of the nation were at such a measure, when Buonaparte thought it necessary to soothe them, by declaring, that it was not to be repeated. This was not all: one year’s conscription had already been anticipated, another year was to be levied in advance, and 80,000 men, whose services, by these baleful laws, were not due till 1810, were now to be ?Suspicion of the views of Austria.? called forth. This was necessary, the report said, because England and Austria were increasing their armies; and it was an evil inseparable from the present state of Europe, that France must increase hers in the same proportion. A suspicion of the intentions of Austria was now intimated. Its armaments, the war-minister declared, had often excited his solicitude. He had been told by the minister for foreign affairs, that the best understanding prevailed with the court of Vienna; but though it did not belong to his department to dive into the views and interests of states, and explore the tortuous labyrinths of politics, it was his duty to neglect nothing for preserving to the French armies, at all points, that just superiority which they ought to possess. The plan which he had proposed would give the army of Spain 200,000 men, without weakening the other armies; and the conscription of 1810 would increase the armies of Germany, of the North, and of Italy, by more than 80,000. From such a force what could be expected but the speedy re-establishment of tranquillity in Spain, of a maritime peace, and of that general tranquillity which was the object of the Emperor’s wishes? Much blood would be spared, because so great a number of men would be ready to shed it.... Here the tyrant’s principle is right: and grievously was that parsimony of strength on the part of his mightiest enemy to be lamented, which, by never sending a force sufficient to insure its object, so often wasted what it sent.

A message from Buonaparte accompanied these reports, when they were laid before the Senate. He mentioned his firm alliance with Russia, and said, that he had no doubts of the peace of the continent, but that he ought not to rely upon the false calculations and errors of other courts; and since his neighbours increased their armies, it was a duty incumbent upon him to increase his: he therefore imposed fresh sacrifices upon his people, which were necessary to secure them from heavier, and to lead them to the grand result of a general peace. “I am determined,” said he, “to carry on the war with Spain with the utmost activity, and to destroy the armies which England has disembarked in that country. The future security of my subjects, a maritime peace, and the security of commerce, equally depend upon these important operations. Frenchmen, my projects have but one object in view ... your happiness, and the permanent well-being of your children; and if I know you right, you will hasten to comply with this new call, which is rendered necessary by the interests of the country.”

In the first of Buonaparte’s three constitutions for France, the affectation of Roman titles, and the false taste with which they were applied to offices essentially different, were equally to be remarked. The name of Senate, however, was well retained under his imperial government, just such a Senate having existed during those disgraceful ages of the Roman empire, when a despotism, similar to that which he had established in France, was degrading their country, and preparing the way for the universal barbarism and misery which ensued. The baseness of those wretches who sanctioned the iniquities and cruelties of Tiberius and Caligula was equalled by the obsequious senators of Buonaparte. On the day after his message had been presented, they voted an address, echoing the gross and palpable falsehoods of his assertions, applauding his measures, and appropriating to themselves, and, as far as the crimes of a government can be imputed to the people, to the French nation also, the guilt of his conduct towards Spain. “Your Majesty,” said they, “desires to defend solemn and voluntarily concluded treaties; to maintain a constitution freely discussed, adopted, and sworn to by a national junta; to suppress a barbarous anarchy, which now covers Spain with blood and mourning, and threatens our frontier; to rescue the true Spaniards from a shameful yoke, by which they are oppressed; to assure to them the happiness of being governed by a brother of your Majesty; to annihilate the English troops, who unite their arms with the daggers of the banditti; to avenge the French blood, so basely shed; to put out of all doubt the security of France, and the peace of our posterity; to restore and complete the work of Louis XIV.; to accomplish the wish of the most illustrious of your predecessors, and particularly of him who was by France most beloved; to extend your great power, in order to diminish the miseries of war, and to compel the enemy of the continent to a general peace, which is the sole object of all your measures, and the only means for the repose and prosperity of our country. The will of the French people is, therefore, Sire, the same as that of your Majesty. The war with Spain is politic, just, and necessary.”... If the transactions which are the subject of this history had passed in remote ages, and such a narrative as is here presented had been preserved to us, it would scarcely be possible, when we found the Senate of a great nation, like France, thus solemnly approving and ratifying the conduct of its Emperor, not to suspect that the history had been handed down in an imperfect state; that some facts had been suppressed, and others distorted; for, however credible the usurpation itself might appear, as the act of an individual tyrant, that it should, with its attendant circumstances of perfidy and cruelty, be thus represented as a just and necessary act, by a legislative assembly, and made the ground of a national war, is something so monstrous, that it would startle our belief; and, for the honour of human nature, we should hesitate before we trusted human testimony.

The conscription for which the tyrant called was decreed without one dissentient voice, by an assembly constituted for no other purpose than that of executing his will and pleasure. His other measures had already been taken. About the middle of August he had ordered General Gouvion Saint Cyr from Boulogne, to repair to Perpignan, and there collect an army, with which to enter Catalonia, as soon as Buonaparte himself should enter Spain on the other side. He gave him no other instructions than that he should use all efforts to preserve Barcelona: “if that place be lost,” said he, “to recover it will cost me eighty thousand men.” The troops from Prussia and Poland were recalled; they consisted not of Frenchmen alone, but of Germans and Italians, Poles, Swiss, and Dutch, Irish, and Mamalukes, men of all countries and languages, of all religions and of none, united into one efficient body by the bond of discipline. They cared not whither they were ordered, so it were only to a land which produced the grape, ... upon what service, or in what cause, was to them a matter of indifference; war was their element, and where-ever they went they expected to find free quarters, and no enemy who could resist them. Not a few of them when they heard, as they had so often heard before, that they were now to give the last blow to the tottering power of England, believed they were about to march to England by land through Spain; the desert, they said, had separated them from that country when they were in Egypt, and when they were at Boulogne there was the sea; but they should get there now. As soon as these troops had crossed the Rhine, they were received with public honours in every town along the line of their march. Deputations came out to welcome them, they were feasted at the expense of the municipality, and thanked at their departure for the honour they had conferred upon the place. This was Buonaparte’s policy. But the conduct of the soldiers showed what an enemy might expect from them, when their own countrymen, upon whom they were quartered, did not escape ill usage. They treated them as they had done the Germans; and the allied troops took the same licence which they had seen the French exercise among an ?Rocca, 9, 12.? allied and friendly people. Under the imperial government every thing was subject to the sword.

Buonaparte reviewed them at Paris. “Soldiers,” said he, “after having triumphed on the banks of the Danube and the Vistula, you have passed through Germany by forced marches. I shall now order you to march through France, without allowing you a moment’s rest. Soldiers, I have occasion for you! The hideous presence of the leopard contaminates the continent of Spain and Portugal. Let your aspect terrify and drive him from thence! Let us carry our conquering eagles even to the pillars of Hercules: there also we have an injury to avenge!” The capture of the French squadron at Cadiz had never been published in France, and this hint is the only notice that ever was publicly taken of it. “Soldiers,” he pursued, “you have exceeded the fame of all modern warriors. You have placed yourselves upon a level with the Roman legions, who, in one campaign, were conquerors on the Rhine, on the Euphrates, in Illyria, and on the Tagus. A durable peace and permanent prosperity shall be the fruits of your exertions. A true Frenchman can never enjoy any rest till the sea is open and free. Soldiers, all that you have already achieved, and that which remains to be done, will be for the happiness of the French people, and for my glory, and shall be for ever imprinted on my heart.”

The preparations for war were answerable to the arrogance of this harangue. All the roads to Spain were thronged with troops, marching from all parts of France and its dependencies toward the Pyrenees. While they were on their march, Buonaparte set out for Germany, to meet his dependent German princes, and the Emperor Alexander, at Erfurth. Some of the performers of the Theatre FranÇaise had orders to precede him, that these potentates might be provided with amusement. An opportunity was taken of giving Alexander a momentous hint of the superiority of his new friend: ... Buonaparte took him to the field of Jena: a temple, dedicated to Victory, was erected on the spot where the French Emperor had past the night previous to the battle: tents were pitched round it; and, after a sumptuous breakfast, he was led over every part of the ground which the two armies had occupied, and left to make his own reflections upon the spot where Prussia received the reward of its long subserviency to France, and of its neutrality when the fate of the continent was upon the hazard. The immediate consequence of the meeting was a proposal for peace to Great Britain.

These overtures were made in the customary diplomatic forms; but they were accompanied by a joint letter from the Emperors of France and Russia to the King of England. Having been brought together at Erfurth by the circumstances of the continent, their first thought, they said, had been to yield to the wishes and wants ?Oct. 12.? of every people, and to seek, in a speedy pacification, the remedy for the common miseries of Europe. The long and bloody continental war was at an end, and could not possibly be renewed. Many changes had taken place, many states had been overthrown. The cause was to be found in the evils arising from the stagnation of maritime commerce. Still greater changes might yet occur, and all of them contrary to the policy of the English nation. Peace was their interest, as well as the interest of the continent. We unite, therefore, said they, in intreating your Majesty to listen to the voice of humanity, silencing that of the passions; to seek, with the intention of arriving at that object, how to conciliate all interests, and by that means to preserve the powers which still exist; and to insure the happiness of Europe, and of this generation, at the head of which Providence has placed us. The official notes stated, that Russian plenipotentiaries would be sent to Paris, there to receive the answer of England; and that French plenipotentiaries would repair to any city on the continent, to which the King of Great Britain and his allies should send theirs. It was added, that the King of England must, without doubt, feel the grandeur and sincerity of this conduct on the part of the two Emperors; that their union was beyond the reach of change; and that it was formed for peace as well as for war.

In answer to the Russian minister, it was stated, that however desirous his Majesty might be to reply directly to the Emperor Alexander, the unusual manner in which his letter was drawn up deprived it entirely of the character of a private and personal communication, and it was impossible to adopt that mark of respect towards him, without, at the same time, recognizing titles which the King of England never had acknowledged. This was a needless demurral. We had sent ministers to treat with Buonaparte since he had been Emperor of France, ... surely this was, to all intents, an effectual recognition of his title. It was weakening the moral strength of our cause, to rest, even for a moment, upon a point of punctilio. In every other respect, the correspondence on the part of England was worthy of the cause. An immediate assurance that France acknowledged the government of Spain as party to any negotiation, was declared to be absolutely necessary: that such was the intention of the Emperor of Russia, it was added, his Majesty could not doubt. He recollected the lively interest which that Emperor had always manifested for the dignity and welfare of the Spanish monarchy, and wanted no other assurance that he could not have been induced to sanction, by his concurrence, or by his approbation, usurpations, the principles of which were not less unjust than their example was dangerous to all lawful sovereigns.

The letter of the two Emperors was fully and most ably answered in an official note. The King’s readiness and desire to negotiate a peace on terms consistent with his own honour, and with the permanent security of Europe, were again declared. If the condition of the continent were one of agitation and of wretchedness, if many states had been overthrown, and many more were still menaced with subversion, it was a consolation to the King to reflect, that no part of those convulsions could be in any degree imputable to him. Most willing was he to acknowledge that all such dreadful changes were indeed contrary to the policy of Great Britain. And if the cause of so much misery was to be found in the stagnation of commercial intercourse, although he could not be expected to hear with unqualified regret that the system devised for the destruction of the commerce of his subjects had recoiled upon its authors or its instruments, yet it was neither in his disposition, nor in the character of the people over whom he reigned, to rejoice in the privations and unhappiness even of the nations which were combined against him. He anxiously desired the termination of the sufferings of the continent. The war in which he was engaged was entered into for the immediate object of national safety; but, in its progress, new obligations had been imposed upon him, in behalf of powers whom the aggressions of a common enemy had compelled to make common cause with him, or who had solicited his assistance and support in the vindication of their national independence. The interests of Portugal and of Sicily were confided to his friendship and protection; and he was connected for peace, as well as for war, with the King of Sweden. To Spain he was not yet bound by any formal instrument, but he had, in the face of the world, contracted with that nation engagements not less sacred, and not less binding upon his mind than the most solemn treaties. He therefore assumed, that, in an overture made to him for entering into negotiations for a general peace, his relations subsisting with the Spanish monarchy had been distinctly taken into consideration, and that the government acting in the name of his Catholic Majesty, Ferdinand VII., was understood to be a party to any negotiation in which he was invited to engage.

The answer of the Russian minister was, that the admission of the sovereigns in alliance with England could not be a point of any difficulty; but this principle by no means extended to the necessity of admitting the plenipotentiaries of the Spanish insurgents, and the Emperor Alexander could not admit them. He had already acknowledged King Joseph Napoleon; he was united with the Emperor of the French; and he was resolved not to separate his interests from those of that monarch. But Count Romanzoff added, he saw, with pleasure, that, in this difference of opinion respecting the Spaniards, there was nothing which could either prevent or delay the opening of a congress; because his Britannic Majesty had himself admitted, that he was bound to no positive engagement with those who had taken up arms in Spain. Count Romanzoff did not intend to insult a British King, by telling him he might violate his word and honour, because he was not bound to keep them by any formal instrument; ... but M. Champagny’s reply was intentionally insulting. “How,” said he, “is it possible for the French government to entertain the proposal which has been made to it, of admitting the Spanish insurgents to the negotiation? What would the English government have said, had it been proposed to them to admit the Catholic insurgents of Ireland? France, without having any treaties with them, has been in communication with them, has made them promises, and has frequently sent them succours.” The writer did not perceive what warning this utterly irrelevant argument held out to the disaffected in Ireland, by thus plainly informing them, that however Buonaparte might promise them support, he was at all times ready to abandon them, whenever it might suit his views. Menacing language was then introduced. England, we were told, would find herself under a strange mistake, if, contrary to the experience of the past, she still entertained the idea of contending successfully, upon the continent, against the armies of France. What hope could she have, especially when France was irrevocably united with Russia? France and Russia could carry on the war till the court of London recurred to just and equitable dispositions; they were resolved to do so; and the English were admonished not to lose sight of the inevitable results of the force of states.

Mr. Canning’s replies were equally decided and dignified. To Count Romanzoff he expressed the King’s astonishment and regret, that it should be supposed he would consent to commence a negotiation by the previous abandonment of the cause of the Spanish nation, and of the legitimate monarchy of Spain, in deference to an usurpation which had no parallel in the history of the world. He had hoped that the participation of the Emperor Alexander in these overtures would have afforded a security to him against the proposal of a condition so unjust in its effect, and so fatal in its example. Nor could he conceive by what obligation of duty or of interest, or by what principle of Russian policy, his Imperial Majesty could have found himself compelled to acknowledge the right assumed by France, of deposing and imprisoning friendly Sovereigns, and forcibly transferring to herself the allegiance of loyal and independent nations. If these were indeed the principles to which the Emperor had inviolably attached himself, to which he had pledged the character and resources of his empire, and which he had united himself with France to establish by war, and to maintain in peace ... deeply did the King of England lament a determination by which the sufferings of Europe must be aggravated and prolonged: but not to him was to be attributed the continuance of the calamities of war, by the disappointment of all hope of such a peace as would be compatible with justice and with honour. To the French minister Mr. Canning said, he was especially commanded to abstain from noticing any of those topics and expressions insulting to his Majesty, to his allies, and to the Spanish nation, with which the official note of M. Champagny abounded. The King of England was desirous to have treated for a peace which might have arranged the respective interests of all the belligerent powers on principles of equal justice, but he was determined not to abandon the cause of the Spanish nation, and of the legitimate monarchy of Spain; and the pretension of France, to exclude from the negotiation the central and supreme government, acting in the name of his Catholic Majesty, Ferdinand VII., was one which he could not admit, without acquiescing in an usurpation unparalleled in the history of the world.

As soon as this correspondence was concluded, the rupture of the negotiation was made known in England, by a declaration which, while any sense of honour remains in the English nation, may always be recollected with pride and satisfaction. The continued appearance of a negotiation, it said, when peace was found to be utterly unattainable, could be advantageous only to the enemy. It might enable France to sow distrust and jealousy in the councils of those who were combined to resist her oppression; and if, among the nations which were groaning under the tyranny of French alliance, or among those which maintained against France a doubtful and precarious independence, there should be any who were balancing between the certain ruin of a prolonged inactivity and the contingent dangers of an effort to save themselves from that ruin ... to nations so situated, the delusive prospect of a peace between Great Britain and France could not fail to be peculiarly injurious. Their preparations might be relaxed, by the vain hope of returning tranquillity, or their purpose shaken, by the apprehension of being left to contend alone. That such was, in fact, the main object of France in the proposals transmitted from Erfurth, his Majesty entertained a strong persuasion. But at a moment when results, so awful from their importance, and so tremendous from their uncertainty, might be depending upon the decision of peace or war, he felt it due to himself to ascertain, beyond the possibility of doubt, the views and intentions of his enemies. It was difficult for him to believe that the Emperor of Russia had devoted himself so blindly and fatally to the violence and ambition of the power with which his Imperial Majesty had unfortunately become allied, as to be prepared openly to abet the usurpation of Spain. He therefore met the seeming fairness and moderation of the proposal with fairness and moderation on his part real and sincere, expressing his just confidence that the Spanish government, acting in the name of Ferdinand VII., was understood to be a party to this negotiation. The reply returned by France to this proposition cast off at once the thin disguise, which had been assumed for a momentary purpose, and displayed, with less than ordinary reserve, the arrogance and injustice of that government. The universal Spanish nation was described by the degrading appellation of the Spanish insurgents, and the demand for the admission of its government as a party to any negotiation was rejected, as inadmissible and insulting. With astonishment, as well as grief, he had received from the Emperor of Russia a reply similar in effect, although less indecorous in tone and manner. The King would readily have embraced an opportunity of negotiation which might have afforded any hope or prospect of a peace compatible with justice and with honour. He lamented an issue by which the sufferings of Europe were prolonged; but neither his honour nor the generosity of the British nation would admit of his consenting to commence a negotiation by the abandonment of a brave and loyal people, who were contending for the preservation of all that is dear to man, and whose exertions, in a cause so unquestionably just, he had solemnly pledged himself to sustain.

Such an answer was consistent with the honour, the principles, and the feelings of the British people. Buonaparte anticipated it: his ?Buonaparte departs for Spain.? proposals might have that effect which the English cabinet had foreseen, upon the powers which he oppressed, and they might deceive the French people; at least they gave a popular topic for his sycophants in the Senate, and those whose office it was to mislead the public mind. He himself knew what the result must be, and had not for a moment suspended or slackened his preparations. ?Oct. 25.? Before a reply could be made to the first overture, he returned to Paris, and, in his address to the legislative body, informed them that he should depart in a few days, to put himself in person at the head of his army, and, with God’s help (such was the expression of the blasphemer), to crown the King of Spain in Madrid, and plant his eagles on the forts of Spain. It was a distinguished favour of the providence, he said, which had constantly protected his army, that passion had so far blinded the English councils, as to have made them abandon the defence of the seas, and at last produce their army on the continent. His vaunts and his impieties were, of course, echoed by those whom he addressed: but their flattery was far exceeded by the language of some deputies from the new Italian departments, who had audience on the same day. The destinies of the whole world, they told him, were confided by the Almighty to his impenetrable views, to the supreme power of his genius, to the miraculous exploits of his arms. Hence a new order of things, already written in the books of the Eternal, was prepared for their country. In the necessity in which he was to overthrow, to destroy, to disperse all enemies, as the wind dissipates the dust, he was not an exterminating Angel; but he was the Being that extends his thoughts, and measures the face of the earth, to re-establish its happiness upon a better and surer basis. He was destined before all ages to be the Man of God’s right hand; the Sovereign Master of all things. Language of more idolatrous adoration was never listened to by the frantic Caligula, nor uttered by the infatuated followers of Sabatai Sevi. It was not, however, too gross for the tyrant to whom it was addressed; and he applauded it in his reply. Immediately after this scene he left Paris, reached Bayonne on the 3d of November, and, five days afterwards, put himself at the head of his army at Vitoria.