THE OVERTHROW OF GODOY
1804-1808
As Napoleon considered that Ferdinand was only fit to be a tool and
reign as a vassal of France, he suggested that the Prince should marry
the daughter of his brother Lucien, and this proposal was made quite
regardless of the aversion with which his niece regarded the proposed
bridegroom.
To the keen insight of the warrior who wielded the sceptre of France,
Charles IV. and his Ministers and Prince Ferdinand and his advisers
all seemed like a tree waiting for the axe. But the Prince of Asturias
represented the dawn of a new era to Spaniards. He was the centre of
popular enthusiasm, and to be one with his cause was to be one with the
majority of the nation.
Bonaparte, naturally, did not at once reveal his designs of gaining
supremacy on the Peninsula to the King, and to lull any doubts on his
part he gave him a magnificent pair of horses; and although Charles IV.
had written to him, after the settlement of the matter of the Escorial,
that he approved of his son’s union with the Imperial Family, Napoleon
said he could not proceed in the arrangements for such an advantageous
marriage without his son’s consent.
As the confiding Charles thought that his son’s demonstrations of
affection after being set free were sincere, and being anxious to
secure the peace of his household, he made up his mind to the great
sacrifice of parting with Godoy, if by so doing he could quench the
spirit of intrigue and jealousy in the palace.
With this view the King sent for the Prince of Asturias to explain to
him the course which he considered necessary in face of the constant
disturbances in the country and the absolute necessity of union within
the realm.
To the surprise of his father, Ferdinand opposed the idea of the
overthrow of the favourite. The Prince’s smiling countenance filled
the King’s heart with joy, and it was with no doubt of his sincerity
that he listened to his son’s opinion that Godoy should not be asked
to retire from the Court; the Prince of the Peace was himself pleased
when the heir-apparent gave him his hand with friendly looks, and bade
him sacrifice his own feelings to the welfare of the kingdom and remain
where he was appreciated. Neither King nor courtier could foresee that,
even whilst inspiring confidence by his open, friendly demeanour,
Ferdinand was preparing at Aranjuez the sequel to the plot at the
Escorial.
In the meanwhile the French invaded Portugal, the Spanish soldiers
materially aided them in the campaign, and Godoy began to see that the
way in which the forces of Napoleon took possession of San Sebastian
argued more the course of a conqueror than that of an ally. Barcelona,
moreover, was also occupied by the French, and Charles IV. and Maria
Luisa were filled with alarm at these signs of the supremacy of the
French. The Prince of the Peace tried to persuade Their Majesties to
repair to Andalusia, and sought to open their eyes to the astuteness of
the Corsican and the misfortunes which it augured. Carné declares that
Bonaparte only wished to be the regenerator of Spain by introducing, by
the aid of royalty, the required reforms which were afterwards insisted
on in the name of liberty, but the tumults and scandals of the Court
finally led him to fall into the temptation which was the origin of all
the misfortunes of the country.
It must be remembered that the Escorial matter had idealized the Prince
in the minds of the people. His innocence, his sufferings, and his
virtues, were all real in the eyes of the public; whilst Godoy was only
regarded as an atheist who sought to reform the friars through his
brother-in-law, the Archbishop of Toledo. The French and their leader
were therefore regarded as means for the assistance of the Prince of
Asturias, and this idea was circulated throughout the provinces by the
convents and the confessionals. The colossal power of the Church had
indeed imposed itself on the throne. Its influence spread throughout
all classes, and in the daring painting showing the world bound round
with a San Franciscan cord, the end is held by a brother with these
words, “We can do all.”
Murat, the Grand Duke of Berg, with whom Maria Luisa had so much
subsequent correspondence about her family affairs, now took up his
abode at Burgos as the Emperor’s lieutenant. Thus, poor Charles IV. was
not only exposed to the treacherous designs of his son, but they were
hatched under the wings of the Imperial Eagle.
The King and his wife were now in the Palace of Aranjuez, on the banks
of the Tagus, and thither went the Prince of the Peace to announce
the signs of disaster. The orders for the Madrid garrison to proceed
to Aranjuez confirmed the suspicions of the people of the terrible
crisis which was taking place in the Court, and it was thought that the
desire of Their Majesties to go to Seville meant the extension of their
journey to Mexico.
Then came the historic 17th of March, when the murmur of the Tagus was
drowned by the voices of the people surrounding the mansion.
Between eleven and twelve o’clock a carriage was seen to leave Godoy’s
mansion with his “friend” Josefa Tudo closely veiled. A shot was fired
by someone who sought to make the lady disclose her identity, and then
the Prince of Asturias put in his window the light which was the sign
for the commencement of the tumult. The trumpet sounded the call to
horse, and all ran to take possession of the different roads to the
palace by which it was possible Godoy might escape.
The King and Queen sent for Ferdinand, and the Queen told her son
that, as his poor father was suffering acute rheumatic pains, he was
unable to go himself to the window, so she begged her son to go and
tranquillize the people in his father’s name. This Fernando declined
to do, under the pretext that the sight of him would make the firing
commence.
The cries of the mob sacking Godoy’s dwelling were now audible, and the
furniture and pictures were all hurled from the windows. It was curious
that the people seemed to have little thought of appropriating the art
treasures of the favourite. Their one desire was to find the poor man,
and wreak their vengeance for his reported misdeeds; but no sign of him
was to be found. At last they gave up the search, and accompanied the
wife and son to the palace. To show that their hatred did not extend to
these personages, as the dissensions between Godoy and his wife were
public property, they took the horses out of the carriage and drew it
themselves.
On the following day Charles IV. signed the decree which removed Godoy
from his position as Generalissimo and Admiral, and he sent a letter to
Napoleon to acquaint him with the fact, adding that his rheumatic pains
prevented him doing more than dictate the letter.
But there was no peace for the poor King. The following morning (March
19) two officials of the Guard came with the utmost secrecy to acquaint
His Majesty with the news that a worse tumult was brewing than that
which had broken out the preceding evening, and that only the Prince of
Asturias could prevent it.
Ferdinand was then sent for, and his mother entreated him to prevent
the riot by sending his own people to calm the excitement of the
populace, and commanding the instigator of the disturbance to return to
Madrid.
But hardly were these requests complied with when fresh tumult was
heard. It seemed that Manuel Godoy was preparing to go to rest on the
night of March 17, when he heard the noise of the mob at his house. He
caught up a cloak, filled his pockets with gold, armed himself with
pistols, and strove to save himself by a secret passage which led into
the house of the widowed Duchess of Osuna. But the key was evidently
not there, so the wretched man lay in his hiding-place like a mouse in
a trap for thirty-six hours, suffering all the pains of fatigue and
hunger and thirst, and fearing every minute to be assassinated.
At last he returned into his own salon. A sentinel saw him, and he was
seized by those in possession of his house. Of course he might have
made use of his firearms, but, worn out with the sufferings of body
and mind during the last thirty-six hours, he gave himself up to his
persecutors.
Like wolves after their prey, the people hounded the wretched man, and
they tried to stop the Guard acting in his defence by putting poles
under the horses’ bellies to prevent their advance. At last, however,
the fugitive was bravely hoisted on to the saddle of the horse of one
of the Guard, and he was taken off at a quick trot from the scene of
his sufferings.
When the news reached Madrid of the imprisonment of the Prince de
la Paz on March 19, the mob flocked to the Plazuela del Almirante,
where his house adjoined that of the Dukes of Alba. There the scene of
Aranjuez was repeated: the furniture and treasures were cast out of
the windows, and were for the most part devoured by the flames of the
fire which was lighted close to the door. Then, drunk with vengeance,
the populace proceeded with burning torches to the houses of the
Prince’s relatives, and sacked that of his mother, his brother Don
Diego, the Marquis of Branciforte, his brother-in-law, and those of the
ex-Ministers Alvarez y Soler, of Don Manuel Sixto Espinosa, and Amoros.
The riding-school of the fallen favourite was converted into an altar
to St. Joseph.
It is from the pen of Maria Luisa that we have the most graphic
description of the events, for in a letter to her daughter she writes
thus:[2]
[2] “History of Ferdinand VII.,” 1843, and the correspondence of
Napoleon with the Bourbon family, published in the _Moniteur_ in 1808.
“MY BELOVED DAUGHTER,
“Tell the Grand Duke of Berg what is the situation of the King, myself,
and the poor Prince de la Paz.
“My son Ferdinand was at the head of the plot. He won the troops over
to himself; he had a light put in one of his windows as a sign for
its explosion. At that instant the Guards and the persons at the head
of the revolution had two shots fired. They have tried to show that
these shots were fired by the Guard of the Prince de la Paz, but it
is not the truth; for the Gardes de Corps and the soldiers came at the
people’s call, and went where they liked without receiving any orders
from their superior officers.
“The King and I sent for my son to tell him how trying it was for his
father not to be able to appear at the window, and that he was to go
himself to tranquillize the people in the name of the King; but he
replied very firmly that he could not do so, because it would be the
sign for the firing to begin, and that he did not wish to give.
“The next morning I begged him to put a stop to the tumult and
tranquillize the rebels, and he replied he would do so. Then he sent
for the second officers in command of the bodies of the royal horse,
commanding many people to return to Madrid who had come to increase the
revolution, and not to let any more come.
“When the King had given these orders, the Prince de la Paz was found,
and the King sent word to his son that the unhappy Prince, who was the
victim of his friendship for us and the French, and particularly of the
Grand Duke, was to be extricated from his position. My son went and
commanded them not to touch the Prince de la Paz, and to conduct him to
the barracks of the Royal Guards. He did it in his own name, although
it was at the instance of his father; and he said to the Prince de la
Paz, as if he were the King himself, ‘I grant you your life.’
“The Prince de la Paz, in spite of his great injuries, asked him if
he were King; and he returned that he thought of being so. This was
because the King, the Prince de la Paz, and I, intended to abdicate in
favour of Fernando, when we had seen the Emperor and arranged all the
matters, among which was the marriage. My son returned: ‘No, so far I
am not King, but I soon shall be.’
“Certainly my son commanded everything, as if he were King without
being so, or knowing if he would be. The orders given by the King my
husband were not obeyed.
“Then on the day of the 19th, when the abdication took place, there was
another worse tumult, threatening the life of the King, my husband, and
this obliged him to form the resolution of abdicating.
“From the moment of his abdication, the King was treated by Ferdinand
with all the contempt that can be used to a King, and without any
consideration for his parents.
“Then he sent for all the people concerned in his cause who had been
disloyal to his father, and did all he could to grieve him. He bade us
leave the place as soon as possible, and notified the town of Badajoz
for our residence. In the meantime he had no consideration for us
whatever, and he showed great pleasure at being King and that we were
withdrawn.
“As to the Prince de la Paz, he did not want anybody to think of him.
The Guards who had him in custody had orders not to reply to any
questions that were asked, and they treated him with the greatest
inhumanity.
“My son made the conspiracy to dethrone his father the King; our lives
have been in great danger, and that of the Prince de la Paz is so still.
“The King, my husband, and I are hoping that the Grand Duke will do
what he can in our favour, as we have always been faithful allies of
the Emperor and great friends of the Grand Duke, and the same can be
said of the poor Prince de la Paz. If he could speak, he could give
proofs of this, and even in the state in which he now is he does
nothing but call for his great friend, the Grand Duke.
“We beg the Grand Duke to save the Prince de la Paz, and that, whilst
saving us, he will always allow him to be with us, so that we can pass
the rest of our days quietly together in a warmer climate, without
intrigues and without commands, but with honour.
“This is what the King and I want, and the Prince de la Paz equally so.
He would be always ready to serve my son in everything. But my son has
no character whatever, and much less that of sincerity; he never liked
him, and he always declared war against him, as he has against the
King, his father, and me.
“His ambition is great, and he regards his parents as if they were not
so. What will he do to others? If the Grand Duke could see us, it would
give great pleasure to us, and also to his friend, the Prince de la
Paz, who suffers for having been always attached to the French and the
Emperor. All our hope is in the Grand Duke, to whom we also commend
our poor daughter Maria Luisa, who is not loved by her brother. With
this hope we are about to take our journey.
“LUISA.”[3]
[3] “Memorias de Don Juan Nellerto” (Llorente), tomo 2.
A few remarks on this favourite daughter of Queen Maria Luisa may not
be amiss. Maria Luisa of Bourbon, Queen of Etruria, was only fifteen
years of age when the eldest son of the Duke of Parma came to Madrid
and married her. The Prince had come to Spain for the purpose of
marrying her sister, Maria Amalia; but, as this Princess was silent and
reserved, the bridegroom-elect showed his preference for her sister,
and, as Godoy favoured this change of arrangements, Prince Louis wedded
Maria Luisa, although the originally destined bride had evidently been
favourably inclined to him.
In 1801 Napoleon Bonaparte arranged for Tuscany, under the name of
the kingdom of Etruria, to be given to the Spanish Princess and her
husband, who was called Louis I. But the people never took to their new
rulers, and the French did not evacuate the place.
In 1802 the King and Queen of Etruria went to Spain to be present at
the marriage of Ferdinand with Maria Antonia of Naples, and that of her
brother, the heir of the Two Sicilies, with the Infanta Maria Isabel;
and this sister of Prince Ferdinand became subsequently the mother of
his fourth wife, Queen Maria Cristina, mother of Isabella II.
[Illustration: MARIA ANTONIA, PRINCESS OF ASTURIAS, FIRST WIFE OF
FERDINAND VII.]
On this journey to Spain the young King of Etruria died of brain
disease, and the Queen became, by the will of her late husband, Regent
for her little son, who was crowned Louis II. of Etruria. But Napoleon
deprived the royal lady of her kingdom in virtue of the Treaty of
Fontainebleau in 1807; and when the Queen came to Spain and joined her
petitions to those of her mother in the correspondence to Murat and
Napoleon, she never returned to her kingdom, which was taken from her
with the promise of having Portugal in return.
When Napoleon heard of the revolution of Aranjuez, he said to the Duke
of Rovigo: “I never thought of such a thing; matters have taken an
unexpected turn. I know that the father is right in accusing the son of
conspiring against the throne; this fact will unmask the son, and it
will never be approved. When Charles V. abdicated, he was not contented
with a written declaration; he confirmed it with the ceremonies
customary for such occasions, he renewed it various times, and he did
not abandon the reins of the government until he had given solemn
assurance of his wish to do so.”[4]
[4] “Mémoires du Duc de Rovigo,” vol. iii., p. 250.
Once on the throne, Ferdinand VII. sent for the persons who had taken
part in the Escorial conspiracy. Don Miguel José de Azanza, the
ex-Viceroy of Mexico, was made Minister of the Interior instead of
Miguel Cartegano Soler, and Pedro Ceballos, who had married Godoy’s
cousin, and who had worked for the ruin of the dethroned King, was
retained in his position as Minister of Foreign Affairs by a special
royal decree.
The celebrated littérateur Gaspar Melchor de Jovellanos also returned
to Court.
But the man who was most triumphant was Ferdinand’s old tutor, Don Juan
Escoiquiz. His wish was fulfilled--he was a power at Court, and he was
decorated with the Cross of Carlos III.
Moreover, the Duke of San Carlos, spoken of by Maria Luisa in her
correspondence as the falsest of all, was made chief Mayordomo of
the palace. In fact, all who had played any part in the Escorial
affair were exalted, whereas those who had pleased Godoy by their
capacities or virtues were proscribed and persecuted. Among these were
the Duke of Almodovar, brother of the Prince de la Paz, Viguri the
Intendant, Norrega the Treasurer, Marquina the Corregidor of Madrid,
the littérateur Escala, and the Fiscal Viegas, who had demanded penal
punishment for criminals in the Escorial matter. The property of all
the above-mentioned men was confiscated, and Godoy himself was taken
from Aranjuez to the Castle of Villaviciosa.
The government was practically in the hands of the Dukes of Infantado
and San Carlos and the Councillor Escoiquiz. The opinions and character
of the latter are well known. He was utterly disingenuous, and he was
expert in the science of intrigue, which had played such a part in
the antechamber of the palace. But for really ruling the affairs of
a kingdom he was quite incompetent, and was only conspicuous for his
want of knowledge and his mean spirit. Apart from his artifice in
conspiracies, the character of this Archdeacon of Alcaraz was seen in
the pamphlet he published in defence of the Inquisition. San Carlos
shamefully maligned Maria Luisa and the Prince de la Paz, albeit he was
proud of being related to the favourite. Infantado was destitute of any
consistency in government except when it savoured of persecution and
oppression.
The three statesmen were united in one desire, and that was the
marriage of Ferdinand with one of the Bonaparte family; and they all
shared the people’s joy at the entrance of Murat, Grand Duke of Berg,
in Madrid on March 23. The townsfolk were mad with delight, for they
regarded the French as supporters of their idol Ferdinand, and sharers
of their joy in the state entry of the young King into the capital.
The function was indeed a brilliant sight, and the Sovereign, crowned
with the rich diadem of the two worlds, roused so much enthusiasm that
it took him six hours to pass from the Gate of Atocha to the palace.
The roar of the cannon, the peal of the bells, the clamour of the
cheers, were indeed deafening, and the men laid down their cloaks for
the King to pass over, and the women waved their pocket-handkerchiefs.
The Grand Duke of Berg unfortunately gave rein to his pride, and
wounded the Spaniards in their tenderest sensibility by sending French
troops to line part of the route of the royal entry, leaving his
house in the Buen Retiro for that of the Prince de la Paz, and taking
possession of the Casa de Campo.
Napoleon himself regretted this conduct, and we find him saying in the
“Memorial of St. Helena,” published in 1826:
“The plan more worthy of me, and the safest, would have been a sort of
mediation, like that of Switzerland. I ought to have given a liberal
constitution to the Spanish nation, and seen that Ferdinand put it
in practice. If that had been done in good faith, and if Spain had
prospered with our new customs, France would have gained a close ally,
and a truly formidable increase to its power. If Ferdinand, on the
contrary, failed in his new duties, the Spaniards themselves would soon
have come to beg for another King.”
Murat, with his misleading pictures of a country which he did not know,
tickled the conqueror’s ambition, and this resulted in Napoleon writing
to his brother Louis, who was then in Holland:
“Being concerned that I shall have no solid peace with England without
giving a great impulsion to the Continent, I have decided to put a
French Prince on the throne of Spain.”[5]
[5] “Des Documents Historiques publiés par Louis Bonaparte,” Paris,
1820.
Murat’s power was mainly due to the reports which had reached Spain of
his great feats of arms, and the priests had admired Napoleon as the
restorer of the churches in France; but Murat had not counted on the
revulsion of feeling which ensued when the Spaniards found that the
soldiers of their ally were impregnated with the doctrines of Voltaire
and Rousseau, and as the imprudence of the French fanned the flame of
suspicion it gradually worked up to a fire of fanaticism.
But the Emperor was quite firm in the idea of his imperial hand
wielding the Spanish sceptre, so he sent for Izquierdo, and asked him
if the Spaniards would not be glad to have him as their Sovereign.
“Very,” returned Izquierdo, “if Your Majesty will first renounce the
diadem of France.”
Bonaparte did not feel flattered at the Spaniard’s reply, but, anxious
to set the affairs straight in the Peninsula, he left Paris for
Bordeaux on April 2.
In the meanwhile Maria Luisa and her husband had been highly pleased
at the arrival of Murat at the Court. The unhappy Sovereigns had been
treated with the greatest disrespect by their son since his accession
to the throne. They were told to go to Badajoz, in spite of their
protestations of the unsuitability of the climate to their ailments.
They were full of fears that the people’s rage would lead any moment to
the death of their idolized Godoy. Misfortune seemed imminent at any
moment, and poor Charles, with his rheumatic pains, and unable even
to count upon his royal income, was in a sad state of depression when
the news of Murat’s installation in the palatial abode of the fallen
favourite inspired them with hope.
Neither the Grand Duke of Berg nor the Ambassador Beauharnais had
recognized the son as King, although all the rest of the diplomatic
corps had done so; so, encouraged by this fact, they wrote to Murat
through the medium of their daughter, the Queen of Etruria. The perusal
of this correspondence gives an idea of the humiliation of Charles IV.
and his Queen, for, as the Duke of Rovigo says:
“The letters of the royal parents show their consternation and
depression, and the violence must have been very great for them to be
in fear of their lives, and to implore a retreat which would suit their
health, and where they could spend the rest of their days in safety.”[6]
[6] “Mémoires du Duc de Rovigo.”
The picture of her son drawn by the Queen is worthy of the study of the
historian; for the remarks scattered through the various letters run
thus:
“From Ferdinand we have nothing to expect but misery and persecution.
He has formed this conspiracy to dethrone the King his father; he has
no character whatever, much less that of sincerity; he is false and
cruel; his ambition is limitless, and he does not treat his father and
mother like parents. Nothing affects him. He is unfeeling, and not
inclined to clemency; he promises, but he never fulfils his promises;
he does not care for the Grand Duke or the Emperor; he only cares for
despotism; he has a very bad heart; he has never professed affection
either for his father or for me; his councillors are bloodthirsty, and
love to do harm to everybody, not excepting the father and mother.”
These remarks of the Queen-mother are supported by that of the father,
who said in his letter to Napoleon that “he found himself in the
necessity of choosing between life and death.”
And it was in this state of affairs that Maria Luisa commenced her
correspondence with the Duke of Berg by the following note, sent
through her daughter, the Queen of Etruria:
“The King, my husband (who makes me write, as the pains in his hand
prevent his doing so), is anxious to know if the Grand Duke of Berg
will undertake to treat efficaciously with the Emperor for the
preservation of the life of the Prince de la Paz, with the assistance
of some of his employés or chaplains. He is anxious to know if the
Grand Duke can go and release him, or at least give him some counsel,
for he puts all his hope in the Grand Duke of Berg, his great friend.
He hopes all from His Highness, to whom he has always been attached.
“Therefore the Grand Duke will perhaps arrange with the Emperor for
sufficient supplies to be granted to the King, my husband, and me,
and the Prince de la Paz, for us to live together where it suits our
health, and where we have neither commands nor intrigues.
“The Emperor is generous, he is a hero, and he has always helped his
faithful allies, and even those that are persecuted; and nobody is so
much so as we are--and why? Because we have always been faithful to the
alliance.
“Of my son we can expect nothing but misery and persecutions. He began
by inventing, and he will go on by inventing all that he can to make
the Prince de la Paz (the innocent and attached friend of the Emperor,
the Grand Duke, and all the French) appear criminal in the eyes of the
public and the Emperor. You must believe nothing. Enemies have the
power and all the means of justifying as true all that is false.
“The King desires, as I do, to see and talk with the Grand Duke, and
make the protest which it is in his power to make. We are both grateful
to you for sending your troops, and for all the proofs you give us of
your friendship. Your Highness must well know the friendship we have
always had and have for yourself. We put ourselves in your hands and in
those of the Emperor, and trust that he will grant our request.
“These our desires we place in the hands of such a great and generous
ruler and hero.”
On March 22 the Queen of Etruria also wrote to Murat in intercession
for the unhappy prisoner, who, she says, “invoked incessantly the
terrible moment of his death.”
Charles IV. added to his daughter’s letter fresh pleas to be allowed
to go to a country which would suit him better, with the Prince de la
Paz, and his wife added her request to be allowed to finish her days
in tranquillity in a climate favourable to the delicate state of their
health.
On the 26th Maria Luisa sent her daughter the before-mentioned letter,
giving the account of the affair of Aranjuez, and this the Queen of
Etruria sent to Murat with this letter:
“SIR, MY BROTHER,
“My mother sends me the enclosed letter for me to forward to you to
keep. Do us the kindness, dear sir, not to abandon us. All our hopes
are in you. Give me the comfort of your going to see my parents. Reply
something to cheer me, and do not forget a friend who loves you from
her heart.
“MARIA LUISA.
“P.S.--I am ill in bed with a touch of fever, which prevents my leaving
my room.”
Murat then sent General Monthion, the head of the royal staff, to
Aranjuez to ascertain the truth about the King’s abdication, and it was
then that Charles sent his letter and protest to Napoleon.
In handing the letter to the French General, the King said:
“My position is of the saddest. They have taken off the Prince de la
Paz, and will, I believe, kill him.”
“SIRE, MY BROTHER,
“You will doubtless have heard with regret of the events at Aranjuez
and their results, and you will not view with indifference a King
forced to renounce his crown and put himself in the hands of the great
monarch, his ally, whilst placing himself entirely at the disposition
of the only person who can afford felicity to himself, his family, and
his faithful vassals.
“I have only abdicated in favour of my son by force of circumstances,
when the clash of arms and the clamours of an insurrected garrison
made me know what it was to choose between life and death, and my death
would have been followed by that of the Queen.
“I was forced to abdicate, but I was reassured by my complete
confidence in the magnanimity and genius of the great man who has
always shown himself my friend. I determined to conform to whatever the
same great man may demand of us--myself, the Queen, and the Prince de
la Paz.
“I therefore address to Your Imperial Majesty a protest against the
events of Aranjuez and against my abdication. I throw myself entirely
upon the heart and friendship of Your Majesty, trusting that God will
keep you in His safe and worthy keeping.
“I am, Your Imperial Majesty’s
“Most affectionate Brother and Friend,
“CHARLES.”
The Queen’s daughter also wrote to Murat:
“SIR, MY BROTHER,
“I have just seen your esteemed commander, who has given me your
letter, by which I regret to find that my father and mother have not
had the pleasure of seeing you, although they wish it so much, as
all their hope is placed in you, who they trust will restore them
tranquillity.
“The poor Prince de la Paz is covered with wounds and contusions, and
is cast into prison, where he constantly invokes the terrible moment
of his death. He thinks of nobody but his friend the Grand Duke of
Berg, and says he is the only person to whom he looks for his salvation.
“My father, mother, and I have talked with your respected commander.
He will tell you all. I trust in your friendship, and that by that you
will save us all three and the poor prisoner.
“I have not time to say more, but I trust in you. My father will add
two lines to this letter.
“I am, from my heart,
“Your most affectionate Sister and Friend,
“MARIA LUISA.”
To this letter Carlos IV. added a postscript:
“SIR AND VERY DEAR BROTHER,
“Having talked to your worthy commander, and informed him of all that
has happened, I beg you to tell the Emperor that I intreat him to set
free the poor Prince de la Paz, who only suffers from having been a
friend of France, and at the same time beg of him to let us go to a
place which will suit us, and take with us the same Prince. We are
going now to Badajoz. I beg your reply before then, in case we are
absolutely left without means of seeing each other, for my life is only
in you and in the Emperor. In the meanwhile I am,
“Your very affectionate Brother and Friend,
“CARLOS.”
The General was also given a letter from the Queen to Murat, which ran
thus:
“SIR, MY DEAR BROTHER,
“I have no friend but Your Highness. The King, my beloved husband,
writes to you imploring your friendship, for in that lies our only
hope. We both beg of you to prove you are our friend by informing the
Emperor of our sincere friendship, and of the affection we have always
professed for him, you, and all the French.
“Poor Prince de la Paz, who is wounded and imprisoned for being our
friend, is passionately attached to all France, and he is suffering now
for having desired the arrival of your troops, and for having been our
only permanent friend. He would have gone to see you had he been free,
and now he does not cease to speak of you and express his desire to see
the Emperor. Help us to end our days quietly in a place suitable to the
health of the King, which, like mine, is delicate, and let it be in
company with our friend, who is also that of Your Highness.
“My daughter will be my interpreter if I do not have the satisfaction
of knowing Your Highness personally and talking to you. Could you make
an effort to see us, if only for a minute, by night or when you like?
Your worthy officer will tell you all we have said.
“I hope you will be able to manage what we want, and that you will
pardon all the slips and omissions in the matter, for I do not know
where I am, and you must believe that this has been from no slight to
you nor lack.
“May you live many years!
“Your most affectionate
“LUISA.”
The Queen became quite desperate as the days went by, bringing no
definite help from the Grand Duke of Berg, and in one of her letters to
her daughter she writes:
“If the Grand Duke does not see that the Emperor gives orders for the
stoppage of the intrigues against his friend the Prince de la Paz,
against me and my daughter, none of us will be safe. All the malevolent
people get round my son, and he believes them like oracles, and on his
own part he is not very inclined to magnanimity and clemency. He must
expect sad results from all this. I and my husband think that, if my
son sees the Emperor before he has given his orders, he and those with
him will tell him so many lies that he will doubt the truth. For this
reason we would beg the Grand Duke to let the Emperor know that we are
absolutely in his hands, hoping he will give tranquillity to the King,
my husband, me, and the Prince de la Paz, whom we desire to have with
us, and end our days peacefully in a place suited to our health without
giving the least trouble to anybody. We urgently beg the Grand Duke
to let us have daily news of our mutual friend, the Prince de la Paz,
because we know absolutely nothing.”
The King added the following words in his own handwriting:
“I asked the Queen to write this, as my pains prevent my writing much.”
The next letter from the Queen of Spain to her daughter for the Grand
Duke of Berg is without a date:
“The King, my husband, and I do not wish to be importunate nor
troublesome to the Grand Duke, who has so much to do; but we have no
other friend but him and the Emperor, and in him rest the hopes of the
King, those of the Prince de la Paz, the friend of the Grand Duke and
our own intimate one, and those of my daughter and myself. My daughter
wrote me yesterday afternoon what the Grand Duke had said, and our
hearts are filled with gratitude and comfort, hoping for all that is
good from the sacred and incomparable personages of the Emperor and
Grand Duke. But we do not want him to be ignorant of what we know
in spite of nobody telling us anything or answering our questions,
important as it was for us to have a reply. However, we regard it all
with indifference, and the only thing which interests us is the welfare
of our only and innocent friend, the Prince de la Paz, who is also
the Grand Duke’s, as he exclaimed in his prison in the midst of the
horrible treatment to which he was exposed; for he always called the
Grand Duke his friend, as he did before the conspiracy, and he says
constantly: ‘If I could only have the good fortune for the Grand Duke
to come here, I should have nothing to fear.’
“He wanted you to come to the Court, and he was flattered by the
pleasure the Grand Duke showed in accepting his house as a dwelling. He
had some presents ready to give you, and he thought of nothing but the
moment when he could present himself to the Emperor and the Grand Duke
with all imaginable ardour. But now we are in continual fear that he
will take his life, or that he will be more closely imprisoned if his
enemies know that there is a question of his being saved. Would it not
be possible to take some precautionary measures before the definitive
resolution? The Grand Duke could send some troops without saying why.
Could they not come to the prison and disperse the guard over him,
without giving it time to fire a shot or do anything against the
Prince? For there is reason to fear that it would do so, as they all
know his wish to die, and they would glory in killing him. So the guard
could be absolutely under the command of the Grand Duke; and if not,
the Grand Duke can be sure that the Prince de la Paz will die if he
continue in the power of the worthless traitors and in the hands of my
son. Hence we repeat the plea that he should be removed from the power
of the bloodthirsty _gardes de corps_, my son, and his evil companions;
for we are in continual fear of his life, although the Emperor and the
Grand Duke wish to save him. We repeat, therefore, the entreaty that
the Grand Duke should take every measure for this object, because if
time be lost his life is not safe, as it would certainly be easier to
protect the Prince in the midst of carnivorous lions and tigers.
“After dinner yesterday, my son was with Infantado, Escoiquiz, who is
a malignant cleric, and San Carlos, who is worse than all; and this
makes us tremble, as the secret conference lasted from half-past one
till half-past three. The _gentil hombre_ who is with my son Charles
is a cousin of San Carlos; he has talent and some learning, but he is
a malignant American and a great enemy of ours, like his cousin San
Carlos, in spite of all they have received from the King, my husband,
at the request of the Prince de la Paz, to whom they say they are
related. All those who are with my son Charles are mixed up in the same
intrigue, and inclined to do all possible harm, and what is reported as
true is the greatest untruth.
“I hope the Grand Duke will pardon all my blunders and mistakes when
I write French, as it is forty-two years since I came to Spain at
thirteen and a half years of age, so, although I speak French, I do not
speak it well.
“The Grand Duke will know what helps me, and will pardon all my faults
of the language.
“LUISA.”
Ferdinand, in his blind belief in Escoiquiz, disregarded the counsel of
other men, and, as Escoiquiz only thought of conciliating the Corsican
so as to advance his plan of Ferdinand’s union with a member of the
House of Bonaparte, the power of the French increased daily.
It was believed that all the intrigues of Beauharnais were only to keep
the sceptre in the hand which held it, and the silly credulity on the
part of Escoiquiz was the chief cause of the consequent misfortunes.
To a genius like Napoleon the situation of Spain was an easy prey to
his ambition, and its state of submission to the French was seen in the
fact of Caballero conforming to Murat’s desire to become the possessor
of the sword which was surrendered to Charles V. by Francis I. of
France after the Battle of Pavia.
The function in which Spain lost this heirloom is described in the
_Gaceta de Madrid_ of April 5, 1808. The sword was borne in state to
the Grand Duke’s house. It was placed on a silver tray covered with a
puce-coloured silk cloth trimmed with a wide bright fringe, and Don
Carlos Montarges, the honorary Chief Armourer, and his attendant, Don
Manuel Trotier, went in the gala carriage with the trophy. The carriage
was drawn by mules in gala attire, and three royal lackeys in full
livery walked by the side of each. In the other carriage, also drawn by
four mules and accompanied by lackeys, came the Duke del Parque. The
sword was borne into Murat’s presence by the two armourers, and, after
giving him the King’s letter, they solemnly presented him with the
historic weapon, which was received with many expressions of thanks.
Murat now set no bounds to his ambitious aims, especially as he
knew that his brother-in-law had decided on the dethronement of the
Bourbons in Spain. So, dazzled by the brilliance of his position, he
precipitated matters by his intrigues. He suggested the advisability
of the Infante Don Carlos going to meet Napoleon as far as Burgos, so
this journey of the Spanish Prince was arranged, Pedro Macanáz and Don
Pascual Vallejo being in attendance.
As Napoleon did not trust entirely to the perceptions of Murat, he
sent the astute Savary to reconnoitre the state of affairs in Madrid.
The clever Frenchman was as successful in Spain as he had been in
Russia, and it was soon arranged for Ferdinand to take the undignified
course of going to meet Bonaparte at Burgos, for Escoiquiz thought that
it would gain the favour of the great Frenchman.
Before starting, Ferdinand wrote to his father begging for a letter in
which he would assure Napoleon that he (Ferdinand) professed the same
sentiments of friendship with the French as his father. The reply to
this request came from the Queen, and she said that the pains in the
King’s hand prevented his writing himself, but she had written to the
Grand Duke of Berg saying that the desired letter had not been sent
because they knew that Ferdinand had no love for France.