CHAPTER XIII.

While the people of the United States waited to see the effect of

the embargo on Europe, Europe watched with breathless interest the

death-throes of Spain.

The Emperor Napoleon, in December, 1807, hurried in triumphal progress

from one ancient city to another, through his Italian kingdom, while

his armies steadily crossed the Pyrenees, and spread over every road

between Bayonne and Lisbon. From Madrid, Godoy saw that the end was

near. Until that moment he had counted with certainty on the devotion

of the Spanish people to their old King. In the last months of 1807 he

learned that even Spanish loyalty could not survive the miseries of

such a reign. Conspiracy appeared in the Escorial itself. Ferdinand,

Prince of the Asturias, only son of Don Carlos IV., was discovered in

a plot for dethroning his father by aid of Napoleon. Ferdinand was

but twenty-three years old; yet even in the flower of youth he showed

no social quality. Dull, obstinate, sullen, just shrewd enough to

be suspicious, and with just enough passion to make him vindictive,

Ferdinand was destined to become the last and worst of the Spanish

Bourbon kings; yet in the year 1807 he had a strong bond of sympathy

with the people, for he hated and feared his father and mother and

the Prince of Peace. Public patience, exhausted by endless disaster,

and outraged by the King’s incompetence, the Queen’s supposed amours,

and Godoy’s parade of royal rank and power, vanished at the news that

Ferdinand shared in the popular disgust; and the Prince of Peace

suddenly woke to find the old King already dethroned in his subjects’

love, while the Prince of the Asturias, who was fitted only for

confinement in an asylum, had become the popular ideal of virtue and

reform.

Godoy stifled Ferdinand’s intrigue, and took from Napoleon that

pretext for interference; but he gained at most only a brief respite

for King Charles. The pardon of Ferdinand was issued Nov. 5, 1807;

December 23, Napoleon sent from Milan to his minister of war

orders[234] to concentrate armies for occupying the whole peninsula,

and to establish the magazines necessary for their support. He was

almost ready to act; and his return to Paris, Jan. 3, 1808, announced

to those who were in the secret that the new drama would soon begin.

Among the most interested of his audience was General Armstrong, who

had longed, since 1805, for a chance to meet the Emperor with his own

weapons, and who knew that Napoleon’s schemes required control of

North and South America, which would warrant Jefferson in imposing

rather than in receiving terms for Florida. Whatever these terms might

be, Napoleon must grant them, or must yield the Americas to England’s

naval supremacy. The plan as Armstrong saw it was both safe and sure.

Napoleon made no secret of his wants. Whatever finesse he may have

used in the earlier stage of his policy was flung aside after his

return to Paris, January 3. In reply to Armstrong’s remonstrances

against the Milan Decree, the Emperor ordered Champagny to use the

language of command:[235]--

“Answer Mr. Armstrong, that I am ashamed to discuss points of which

the injustice is so evident; but that in the position in which

England has put the Continent, I do not doubt of the United States

declaring war against her, especially on account of her decree of

November 11; that however great may be the evil resulting to America

from war, every man of sense will prefer it to a recognition of the

monstrous principles and of the anarchy which that Government wants

to establish on the seas; that in my mind I regard war as declared

between England and America from the day when England published her

decrees; that, for the rest, I have ordered that the American vessels

should remain sequestered, to be disposed of as shall be necessary

according to circumstances.”

No coarser methods were known to diplomacy than those which Napoleon

commonly took whenever the moment for action came. Not only did he

thus hold millions of American property sequestered as a pledge for

the obedience of America, but he also offered a bribe to the United

States government. January 28 he gave orders[236] for the occupation

of Barcelona and the Spanish frontier as far as the Ebro, and for

pushing a division from Burgos to Aranda on the direct road to Madrid.

These orders admitted of no disguise; they announced the annexation of

Spain to France. A few days afterward, February 2, the Emperor began

to dispose of Spanish territory as already his own.

“Let the American minister know verbally,” he wrote to

Champagny,[237] “that whenever war shall be declared between America

and England, and whenever in consequence of this war the Americans

shall send troops into the Floridas to help the Spaniards and

repulse the English, I shall much approve of it. You will even let

him perceive (_vous lui laisserez même entrevoir_) that in case

America should be disposed to enter into a treaty of alliance, and

make common cause with me, I shall not be unwilling (_éloigné_) to

intervene with the court of Spain to obtain the cession of these same

Floridas in favor of the Americans.”

The next day Champagny sent for Armstrong and gave him a verbal

message, which the American minister understood as follows:[238]--

“General, I have to communicate to you a message from the Emperor.

I am instructed to say that the measure of taking the Floridas, to

the exclusion of the British, meets entirely the approbation of his

Majesty. I understand that you wish to purchase the Floridas. If such

be your wish, I am further instructed to say that his Majesty will

interest himself with Spain in such way as to obtain for you the

Floridas, and, what is still more important, a convenient western

boundary for Louisiana, on condition that the United States will

enter into an alliance with France.”

Weary of verbal and semi-official advances, Armstrong determined to

put this overture on record, and in doing so, to tell the Emperor

plainly the price of American friendship. February 5 he wrote to

Champagny a note, embodying the message as he understood it, and

promising to convey it to the President.[239]

“I should little deserve,” he added, “and still less reciprocate

the frankness of this declaration, were I to withhold from your

Excellency my belief that the present conduct of France toward the

commerce of the United States, so far from promoting the views of

his Majesty, are directly calculated to contravene them. That the

United States are at this moment on the eve of a war with Great

Britain on account of certain outrages committed against their rights

as a neutral nation is a fact abundantly and even generally known.

Another fact, scarcely less known, is that under these circumstances

France also has proceeded, in many instances and by various means,

to violate these very rights. In both cases all the injunctions

of public law have been equally forgotten; but between the two we

cannot fail to remark a conspicuous difference. With Great Britain

the United States could invoke no particular treaty providing rights

supplementary to these injunctions; but such was not their situation

with France. With her a treaty did exist, ... a treaty sanctioned

with the name and guaranteed by the promise of the Emperor ‘that all

its obligations should be inviolably preserved.’”

This was hardly the reply which the Emperor expected; but, temper

for temper, Napoleon was not a man to be thus challenged by a mere

diplomatist.

“You must write to the American minister,” was his order to

Champagny,[240] “that France has taken engagements with America, has

made with her a treaty founded on the principle that the flag covers

the goods, and that if this sacred principle had not been solemnly

proclaimed, his Majesty would still proclaim it; that his Majesty

treated with America independent, and not with America enslaved

(_asservie_); that if she submits to the King of England’s Decree of

November 11, she renounces thereby the protection of her flag; but

that if the Americans, as his Majesty cannot doubt without wounding

their honor, regard this act as one of hostility, the Emperor is

ready to do justice in every respect.”

In forwarding these documents to Washington, Armstrong expressed

in plain language his opinion of Napoleon and Champagny. “With one

hand they offer us the blessings of equal alliance against Great

Britain; with the other they menace us with war if we do not accept

this kindness; and with both they pick our pockets with all imaginable

diligence, dexterity, and impudence.” Armstrong’s patience was

exhausted. He besought the Government to select its enemy, either

France or England; but “in either case do not suspend a moment the

seizure of the Floridas.”[241] A week afterward he wrote to Madison

that “in a council of Administration held a few days past, when it

was proposed to modify the operation of the Decrees of November,

1806, and December, 1807, though the proposition was supported by the

whole weight of the council, the Emperor became highly indignant, and

declared that these decrees should suffer no change, and that the

Americans should be compelled to take the positive character either of

allies or of enemies.”[242]

These letters from Armstrong, enclosing Champagny’s version of

Napoleon’s blunt words, were despatched to Washington during the

month of February; and, as the story has already shown, President

Jefferson roused a storm against France by communicating to Congress

the Emperor’s order that the United States government should regard

itself as at war with England. Turreau felt the publication as a

fatal blow to his influence; but even Turreau, soldier as he was,

could never appreciate the genius of his master’s audacity. Napoleon

knew his ground. From the moment England adopted the Orders in Council

the United States were necessarily a party in the war, and no process

of evasion or delay could more than disguise their position. Napoleon

told Jefferson this plain truth, and offered him the Floridas as a

bribe to declare himself on the side of France. These advances were

made before the embargo system was fairly known or fully understood at

Paris; and the policy of peaceable coercion, as applied to England,

had not been considered in the Emperor’s plans. Alliance or war seemed

to him the necessary alternative, and from that point of view America

had no reason or right to complain because he disregarded treaty

stipulations which had become a dead letter.

All this while the Emperor held Spain in suspense, but February 21

he gave orders for securing the royal family. Murat was to occupy

Madrid; Admiral Rosily, who commanded a French squadron at Cadiz,

was to bar the way “if the Spanish Court, owing to events or a folly

that can hardly be expected, should wish to renew the scene of

Lisbon.”[243] Godoy saw the impending blow, and ordered the Court to

Cadiz, intending to carry the King even to Mexico if no other resource

remained. He would perhaps have saved the King, and Admiral Rosily

himself would have been the prisoner, had not the people risen in

riot on hearing of the intended flight. March 17 a sudden mob sacked

Godoy’s house at Aranjuez, hunting him down like a wild beast, and

barely failing to take his life; while by sheer terror Don Carlos IV.

was made to abdicate the throne in favor of his son Ferdinand. March

19 the ancient Spanish empire crumbled away.

Owing to the skill with which Napoleon had sucked every drop of blood

from the veins, and paralyzed every nerve in the limbs of the Spanish

monarchy, the throne fell without apparent touch from him, and his

army entered Madrid as though called to protect Carlos IV. from

violence. When the news reached Paris the Emperor, April 2, hurried to

Bordeaux and Bayonne, where he remained until August, regulating his

new empire. To Bayonne were brought all the familiar figures of the

old Spanish _régime_,--Carlos IV., Queen Luisa, Ferdinand, the Prince

of Peace, Don Pedro Cevallos,--the last remnants of picturesque Spain;

and Napoleon passed them in review with the curiosity which he might

have shown in regarding a collection of rococo furniture. His victims

always interested him, except when, as in the case of Toussaint

Louverture, they were not of noble birth. King Charles, he said,[244]

looked a _bon et brave homme_.

“I do not know whether it is due to his position or to the

circumstances, but he has the air of a patriarch, frank and good.

The Queen carries her heart and history on her face; you need to

know nothing more of her. The Prince of Peace has the air of a bull;

something like Daru. He is beginning to recover his senses; he has

been treated with unexampled barbarity. It is well to discharge him

of every false imputation, but he must be left covered with a slight

tinge of contempt.”

This was a compliment to Godoy; for Napoleon made it his rule to throw

contempt only upon persons--like the Queen of Prussia, or Mme. de

Staël, or Toussaint--whose influence he feared. Of Ferdinand, Napoleon

could make nothing, and became almost humorous in attempting to

express the antipathy which this last Spanish Bourbon aroused.

“The King of Prussia is a hero in comparison with the Prince of the

Asturias. He has not yet said a word to me; he is indifferent to

everything; very material; eats four times a day, and has no ideas;

... sullen and stupid.”

Madrid and Aranjuez, the Escorial and La Granja were to know King

Charles and his court no more. After showing themselves for a few

days at Bayonne, these relics of the eighteenth century disappeared

to Compiègne, to Valençay, to one refuge after another, until in 1814

unhappy Spain welcomed back the sullen and stupid Ferdinand, only

to learn his true character; while old King Charles, beggared and

forgotten, dragged out a melancholy existence in Italy, served to the

last by Godoy with a loyalty that half excused his faults and vices.

The Bourbon rubbish was swept from Madrid; Don Carlos had already

abdicated; Ferdinand, entrapped and terrified, was set aside; the

old palaces were garnished for newcomers; and after Lucien and Louis

Bonaparte had refused the proffered throne, Napoleon sent to Naples

for Joseph, who was crowned, June 15, King of Spain at Bayonne.

Meanwhile the Spanish people woke to consciousness that their ancient

empire had become a province of France, and their exasperation broke

into acts of wild revenge. May 2 Madrid rose in an insurrection which

Murat suppressed by force. Several hundred lives on either side were

lost; and although the affair itself was one of no great importance,

it had results which made the day an epoch in modern history.

The gradual breaking up of the old European system of politics was

marked by an anniversary among each of the Western nations. The

English race dated from July 4, 1776, the beginning of a new era;

the French celebrated July 14, 1789, the capture of the Bastille, as

decisive of their destinies. For a time, Bonaparte’s _coup d’état_ of

the 18th Brumaire in 1799 forced both France and England back on their

steps; but the dethronement of Charles IV. began the process in a new

direction. The Second of May--or as the Spaniards called it, the Dos

de Maio--swept the vast Spanish empire into the vortex of dissolution.

Each of the other anniversaries--that of July 4, 1776, and of July

14, 1789--had been followed by a long and bloody convulsion which

ravaged large portions of the world; and the extent and violence

of the convulsion which was to ravage the Spanish empire could be

measured only by the vastness of Spanish dominion. So strangely had

political forces been entangled by Napoleon’s hand, that the explosion

at Madrid roused the most incongruous interests into active sympathy

and strange companionship. The Spaniards themselves, the least

progressive people in Europe, became by necessity democratic; not only

the people, but even the governments of Austria and Germany felt the

movement, and yielded to it; the Tories of England joined with the

Whigs and Democrats in cheering a revolution which could not but shake

the foundations of Tory principles; confusion became chaos, and while

all Europe, except France, joined hands in active or passive support

of Spanish freedom, America, the stronghold of free government, drew

back and threw her weight on the opposite side. The workings of human

development were never more strikingly shown than in the helplessness

with which the strongest political and social forces in the world

followed or resisted at haphazard the necessities of a movement

which they could not control or comprehend. Spain, France, Germany,

England, were swept into a vast and bloody torrent which dragged

America, from Montreal to Valparaiso, slowly into its movement; while

the familiar figures of famous men,--Napoleon, Alexander, Canning,

Godoy, Jefferson, Madison, Talleyrand; emperors, generals, presidents,

conspirators, patriots, tyrants, and martyrs by the thousand,--were

borne away by the stream, struggling, gesticulating, praying,

murdering, robbing; each blind to everything but a selfish interest,

and all helping more or less unconsciously to reach the new level

which society was obliged to seek. Half a century of disorder failed

to settle the problems raised by the Dos de Maio; but from the first

even a child could see that in the ruin of a world like the empire of

Spain, the only nation certain to find a splendid and inexhaustible

booty was the Republic of the United States. To President Jefferson

the Spanish revolution opened an endless vista of democratic ambition.

Yet at first the Dos de Maio seemed only to rivet Napoleon’s power,

and to strengthen the reaction begun on the 18th Brumaire. The Emperor

expected local resistance, and was ready to suppress it. He had

dealt effectually with such popular outbreaks in France, Italy, and

Germany; he had been overcome in St. Domingo not by the people, but,

as he believed, by the climate. If the Germans and Italians could

be made obedient to his orders, the Spaniards could certainly offer

no serious resistance. During the two or three months that followed

the dethronement of the Bourbons, Napoleon stood at the summit of

his hopes. If the letters he then wrote were not extant to prove

the plans he had in mind, common-sense would refuse to believe that

schemes so unsubstantial could have found lodgment in his brain.

The English navy and English commerce were to be driven from the

Mediterranean Sea, the Indian Ocean, and American waters, until the

ruin of England should be accomplished, and the empire of the world

should be secured. Order rapidly followed order for reconstructing

the navies of France, Spain, and Portugal. Great expeditions were to

occupy Ceuta, Egypt, Syria, Buenos Ayres, the Isle de France, and the

East Indies.

“The concurrence of these operations,” he wrote May 13,[245] “will

throw London into a panic. A single one of them, that of India, will

do horrible damage there. England will then have no means of annoying

us or of disturbing America. I am resolved on this expedition.”

For this purpose the Emperor required not only the submission of

Spain, but also the support of Spanish America and of the United

States. He acted as though he were already master of all these

countries, which were not yet within his reach. Continuing to treat

the United States as a dependent government, he issued April 17 a

new order directing the seizure of all American vessels which should

enter the ports of France, Italy, and the Hanse towns.[246] This

measure, which became famous as the Bayonne Decree, surpassed the

Decrees of Berlin and Milan in violence, and was gravely justified

by Napoleon on the ground that, since the embargo, no vessel of the

United States could navigate the seas without violating the law of

its own government, and furnishing a presumption that it did so with

false papers, on British account or in British connection. “This is

very ingenious,” wrote Armstrong in reporting the fact.[247] Yet it

was hardly more arbitrary or unreasonable than the British “Rule of

1756,” which declared that a neutral should practise no trade with a

belligerent which it had not practised with the same nation during

peace.

While these portentous events were passing rapidly before the eyes of

Europe, no undue haste marked Madison’s movements. Champagny’s letter

of Jan. 15, 1808, arrived and was sent to Congress toward the end of

March; but although the United States quickly knew by heart Napoleon’s

phrase, “War exists in fact between England and the United States, and

his Majesty considers it as declared from the day on which England

published her decrees;” although Rose departed March 22, and the

embargo was shaped into a system of coercion long before Rose’s actual

departure,--yet Congress waited until April 22 before authorizing the

President to suspend the embargo, if he could succeed in persuading or

compelling England or France to withdraw the belligerent decrees; and

not until May 2--the famous Dos de Maio--did Madison send to Armstrong

instructions which were to guide that minister through the dangers of

Napoleonic diplomacy.

The Secretary began by noticing Champagny’s letter of January 15,

which had assumed to declare war for the United States government.

“That [letter],” said Madison,[248] “... has, as you will see by

the papers herewith sent, produced all the sensations here which

the spirit and style of it were calculated to excite in minds alive

to the interests and honor of the nation. To present to the United

States the alternative of bending to the views of France against

her enemy, or of incurring a confiscation of all the property of

their citizens carried into the French prize courts, implied that

they were susceptible of impressions by which no independent and

honorable nation can be guided; and to prejudge and pronounce for

them the effect which the conduct of another nation ought to have

on their councils and course of proceeding, had the air at least

of an assumed authority not less irritating to the public feeling.

In these lights the President makes it your duty to present to the

French government the contents of Mr. Champagny’s letter; taking

care, as your discretion will doubtless suggest, that while you make

that Government sensible of the offensive tone employed, you leave

the way open for friendly and respectful explanations, if there be a

disposition to offer them, and for a decision here on any reply which

may be of a different character.”

While Armstrong waited for Napoleon’s “friendly and respectful

explanations,” he was to study the Act of Congress which vested in the

President an authority to suspend the embargo:--

“The conditions on which the suspending authority is to be exercised

will engage your particular attention. They appeal equally to the

justice and the policy of the two great belligerent Powers now

emulating each other in violations of both. The President counts on

your best endeavors to give to this appeal all the effect possible

with the French government. Mr. Pinkney will be doing the same with

that of Great Britain.”

The Florida affair remained to be discussed. The President courteously

acknowledged the Emperor’s wishes “for an accession of the United

States to the war against England, as an inducement to which his

interposition would be employed with Spain to obtain for them the

Floridas.” Armstrong was told to say in reply “that the United

States having chosen as the basis of their policy a fair and sincere

neutrality among the contending Powers, they are disposed to adhere

to it as long as their essential interests will permit, and are more

particularly disinclined to become a party to the complicated and

general warfare which agitates another quarter of the globe, for

the purpose of obtaining a separate and particular object, however

interesting to them; but,” Madison added, “should circumstances demand

from the United States a precautionary occupation against the hostile

designs of Great Britain, it will be recollected with satisfaction

that the measure has received his Majesty’s approbation.” Finally,

Armstrong’s advice to seize the Floridas without delay was answered

only by the singular remark that the Emperor had given no reason to

suppose he would approve the step. In private Jefferson gave other

explanations, but perhaps he most nearly expressed his true feeling

when he added that Armstrong wrote “so much in the buskin that he

cannot give a naked fact in an intelligible form.”[249]

Turreau, who stood nearer than any other man to the secrets of

American foreign politics, attempted to draw the President from this

defensive attitude. Turreau’s instructions were such as to warrant him

in using strong language. In a despatch dated February 15, Champagny

repeated to his minister at Washington in still plainer words the

substance of what had been said to Armstrong: “Some American ships

have been seized, but the Emperor contents himself for the moment

with holding them in sequestration. His conduct toward the Americans

will depend on the conduct of the United States toward England.” As

previously to Armstrong, so again to Turreau, the threat was supported

by the bribe:--

“The Emperor, wishing on this occasion to establish a still more

intimate union of interests between America and France, has

authorized me to notify Mr. Armstrong verbally that if England

should make any movement against the Floridas, he would not take

it ill if the United States should move troops there for defence.

You will be cautious in making use of this communication, which is

purely conditional, and can take effect only in case the Floridas are

attacked.”[250]

Not until late in the month of June did Turreau find an opportunity

to talk at his ease with the President and Secretary of State; but,

as usual, his account of the conversation was interesting.[251] He

began with Madison; and after listening with some impatience to the

Secretary’s long list of complaints, he brought forward the suggestion

of alliance:--

“I watched the Secretary of State, and the experience I have in

dealing with him made me easily perceive that my proposal embarrassed

him; so he replied in an evasive manner. At last, finding himself

too hard pressed, for a third time he said to me ‘that the intention

of the Federal government was to observe the most exact impartiality

between France and England.’ ‘You have departed from it,’ said I,

‘when you place the two Powers on the same line relatively to their

conduct toward you.’... ‘Well,’ said he, ‘we must wait the decision

of the next Congress with regard to the embargo; doubtless it will be

raised in favor of the Power which shall first recall the measures

that harass our commerce.’”

For three hours Turreau lectured the secretary on the iniquities

of England, while the secretary doggedly repeated his phrases.

Wearied but not satisfied, the French minister abandoned Madison and

attacked the President. Jefferson entertained him with a long list of

complaints against Spain, which Turreau had heard so often as to know

them by memory. When at last the conversation had been brought to the

subject of alliance against England, Jefferson took a new view of the

situation, which hardly agreed with that taken by the Secretary of

State.

“You have complained,” replied the President, “that in consequence

of our measures and of the proceedings of the last Congress, France

has been put on a level with England in regard to the wrongs we

allege against both Powers, while there was no kind of analogy either

in the date or the gravity of their wrongs toward the Americans. I

am going to prove to you generally that we never intended to admit

any comparison in the conduct of these two Powers, by recalling to

you the effect of the very measures you complain of. The embargo,

which seems to strike at France and Great Britain equally, is in

fact more prejudicial to the latter than to the former, by reason of

the greater number of colonies which England possesses, and their

inferiority in local resources.”

After pursuing this line of argument Jefferson reverted to his own

policy, and made an advance toward an understanding.

“It is possible,” he said, “that Congress may repeal the embargo, the

continuation of which would do us more harm than a state of war. For

us in the present situation all is loss; whereas, however powerful

the English may be, war would put us in a way of doing them much

harm, because our people are enterprising. Yet as it is probable that

Congress will favor raising the embargo if the Orders in Council

are withdrawn, it would be necessary for your interests, if you are

unwilling to withdraw your decrees, that at least you should promise

their withdrawal on condition that the embargo be withdrawn in your

favor. You will also observe that were the embargo withdrawn in

favor of the English, this will not close our differences with them,

because never--no, never--will there be an arrangement with them if

they do not renounce the impressment of our seamen on our ships.”

With this avowal, which Turreau understood as a sort of pledge

that Jefferson would lean toward war with England rather than with

France, the French minister was obliged to content himself; while he

pressed on his Government the assurance that both the President and

the secretary wished more than all else to obtain the Floridas. Such

reports were little calculated to change the Emperor’s course. Human

ingenuity discovered but one way to break Napoleon’s will, and this

single method was that of showing power to break his plans.

In due time Armstrong received his instructions of May 2, and wrote

June 10 to Champagny a note declining the proposed alliance, and

expressing the satisfaction which his Government felt at hearing the

Emperor’s approval of “a cautionary occupation of the Floridas.”

Napoleon, who was still at Bayonne in the flush of his power, no

sooner read this reply than he wrote to Champagny,[252]--

“Answer the American minister that you do not know what he means

about the occupation of the Floridas; and that the Americans, being

at peace with the Spaniards, cannot occupy the Floridas without the

permission or the request of the King of Spain.”

Armstrong, a few days afterward, was astonished by receiving from

Champagny a note[253] denying positively that any suggestion had ever

been made to warrant an American occupation of the Floridas without

an express request from the King of Spain: “The Emperor has neither

the right nor the wish to authorize an infraction of international

law, contrary to the interests of an independent Power, his ally and

his friend.” When Napoleon chose to deny a fact, argument was thrown

away; yet Armstrong could not do otherwise than recall Champagny’s

own words, which he did in a formal note, and there left the matter

at rest, writing to his Government that the change in tone had “no

doubt grown out of the new relations which the Floridas bear to this

government since the abdication of Charles IV.”[254]

For once Armstrong was too charitable. He might safely have assumed

that Napoleon was also continuing the same coarse game he had played

since April, 1803,--snatching away the lure he loved to dangle before

Jefferson’s eyes, punishing the Americans for refusing his offer of

alliance, and making them feel the constant pressure of his will.

They were fortunate if he did not at once confiscate the property

he had sequestered. Indeed, not only did his seizures of American

property continue even more rigorously than before,[255] but such

French frigates as could keep at sea actually burned and sunk American

ships that came in their way. The Bayonne Decree was enforced like a

declaration of war. The Emperor tolerated no remonstrance. At Bayonne,

July 6, he had an interview with one of the Livingstons, who was on

his way to America as bearer of despatches.

“We are obliged to embargo your ships,” said the Emperor;[256] “they

keep up a trade with England; they come to Holland and elsewhere with

English goods; England has made them tributary to her. This I will

not suffer. Tell the President from me when you see him in America

that if he can make a treaty with England, preserving his maritime

rights, it will be agreeable to me; but that I will make war upon the

universe, should it support her unjust pretensions. I will not abate

any part of my system.”

Yet in one respect he made a concession. He no longer required a

declaration of war from the United States. The embargo seemed to

him, as to Jefferson, an act of hostility to England which answered

the immediate wants of France. In the report on foreign relations,

dated Sept. 1, 1808, Napoleon expressed publicly his approval of the

embargo:--

“The Americans,--this people who placed their fortune, their

prosperity, and almost their existence in commerce,--have given the

example of a great and courageous sacrifice. By a general embargo

they have interdicted all commerce, all exchange, rather than

shamefully submit to that tribute which the English pretend to impose

on the shipping of all nations.”

Armstrong, finding that his advice was not even considered at home,

withdrew from affairs. After obeying his instructions of May 2,

and recording the conventional protest against Napoleon’s uncivil

tone,[257] he secluded himself, early in August, at the baths of

Bourbon l’Archambault, one hundred and fifty miles from Paris, and

nursed his rheumatism till autumn. Thither followed him instructions

from Madison, dated July 21,[258] directing him to present the case of

the burned vessels “in terms which may awaken the French government to

the nature of the injury and the demands of justice;” but the limit

of Armstrong’s patience was reached, and he flatly refused to obey.

Any new experiment made at that moment, he said, would certainly be

useless and perhaps injurious:--

“This opinion, formed with the utmost circumspection, is not only a

regular inference from the ill success of my past endeavors, which

have hitherto produced only palliations, and which have latterly

failed to produce these, but a direct consequence of the most

authentic information that the Emperor does not, on this subject and

at this time, exercise even the small degree of patience proper to

his character.”[259]

Finally Armstrong summed up the results of Jefferson’s policy so far

as France was concerned, in a letter[260] dated August 30, which

carried candor to the point of severity:--

“We have somewhat overrated our means of coercing the two great

belligerents to a course of justice. The embargo is a measure

calculated above any other to keep us whole and keep us in peace;

but beyond this you must not count upon it. Here it is not felt,

and in England ... it is forgotten. I hope that unless France shall

do us justice we will raise the embargo, and make in its stead the

experiment of an armed commerce. Should she adhere to her wicked and

foolish measures, we ought not to content ourselves with doing this.

There is much, very much, besides that we can do; and we ought not to

omit doing all we can, because it is believed here that we cannot do

much, and even that we will not do what we have the power of doing.”

Fortunately for Jefferson, the answer made by Spain, May 2, to

Napoleon’s orders was not couched in the terms which the United States

government used on the same day. Joseph Bonaparte, entering his new

kingdom, found himself a king without subjects. Arriving July 20 at

Madrid, Joseph heard nothing but news of rebellion and disaster. On

that day some twenty thousand French troops under General Dupont,

advancing on Seville and Cadiz, were surrounded in the Sierra Morena,

and laid down their arms to a patriot Spanish force. A few days

afterward the French fleet at Cadiz surrendered. A patriot Junta

assumed the government of Spain. Quick escape from Madrid became

Joseph’s most pressing necessity if he were to save his life. During

one July week he reigned over his gloomy capital, and fled, July 29,

with all the French forces still uncaptured, to the provinces beyond

the Ebro.

This disaster was quickly followed by another. Junot and his army, far

beyond support at Lisbon, suddenly learned that a British force under

Arthur Wellesley had landed, August 1, about one hundred miles to the

north of Lisbon, and was marching on that city. Junot had no choice

but to fight, and August 21 he lost the battle of Vimieiro. August 30,

at Cintra, he consented to evacuate Portugal, on condition that he and

his twenty-two thousand men should be conveyed by sea to France.

Never before in Napoleon’s career had he received two simultaneous

shocks so violent. The whole of Spain and Portugal, from Lisbon

to Saragossa, by a spasmodic effort freed itself from Bonaparte or

Bourbon; but this was nothing,--a single campaign would recover the

peninsula. The real blow was in the loss of Cadiz and Lisbon, of the

fleets and work-shops that were to restore French power on the ocean.

Most fatal stroke of all, the Spanish colonies were thenceforward

beyond reach, and the dream of universal empire was already dissolved

into ocean mist. Napoleon had found the limits of his range, and saw

the power of England rise, more defiant than ever, over the ruin and

desolation of Spain.

FOOTNOTES:

[234] Napoleon to General Clarke, Dec. 23, 1807; Correspondance, xvi.

212.

[235] Napoleon to Champagny, Jan. 12, 1808; Correspondance, xvi. 243.

[236] Napoleon to General Clarke, Jan. 28, 1808; Correspondance, xvi.

281, 282.

[237] Napoleon to Champagny, Feb. 2, 1808; Correspondance, xvi. 301.

[238] Armstrong to Madison, Feb. 15, 1808; MSS. State Department

Archives.

[239] Armstrong to Champagny, Feb. 5, 1808; MSS. State Department

Archives.

[240] Napoleon to Champagny, Feb. 11, 1808; Correspondance, xvi. 319.

[241] Armstrong to Madison, Feb. 15, 1808; MSS. State Department

Archives.

[242] Armstrong to Madison, Feb. 22, 1808; State Papers, iii. 250.

[243] Decrès to Rosily, Feb. 21, 1808; Thiers’s Empire, viii. 669.

[244] Napoleon to Talleyrand, Correspondance, xvii. 39, 49, 65.

[245] Napoleon to Decrès, May 13, 1808; Correspondance, xvii. 112.

[246] Napoleon to Gaudin, April 17, 1808; Correspondance, xvii. 16.

[247] Armstrong to Madison, April 25, 1808; MSS. State Department

Archives. Cf. State Papers, iii. 291.

[248] Madison to Armstrong, May 2, 1808; State Papers, iii. 252.

[249] Jefferson to Madison, Sept. 13, 1808; Writings, v. 367. Cf.

Jefferson to Armstrong, March 5, 1809; Works, v. 433.

[250] Champagny to Turreau, Feb. 15, 1808; Archives des Aff. Étr. MSS.

[251] Turreau to Champagny, June 28, 1808; Archives des Aff. Étr. MSS.

[252] Napoleon, to Champagny, June 21, 1808; Correspondance, xvii. 326.

[253] Champagny to Armstrong, June 22, 1808; MSS. State Department

Archives.

[254] Armstrong to Madison, July 8, 1808; MSS. State Department

Archives.

[255] Napoleon to Champagny, July 11, 1808; Correspondance, xvii. 364.

[256] Armstrong to Jefferson, July 28, 1808; Jefferson MSS.

[257] Armstrong to Champagny, July 4, 1808; State Papers, iii. 254.

[258] Madison to Armstrong, July 21, 1808; State Papers, iii. 254.

[259] Armstrong to Madison, Aug. 28, 1808; MSS. State Department

Archives.

[260] Armstrong to Madison, Aug. 30, 1808; State Papers, iii. 256.

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